“It’s not horrible. He was protection against more pain.”

“Yes. Exactly. Like I know my brothers both mean well, especially RJ, but my whole life it’s been about him and his career and his life and his success. When our dad died, I think he felt like he needed to step up somehow, but it was a reminder that Dad was gone. I was struggling to cope, so when Joey came into my life, I used him as armor. He was my defense against the loss I couldn’t seem to deal with. Everyone thought I was fine because I was with him. He was safe because, while I liked him and was comfortable with him, I wasn’t ever in love with him.” It isn’t until I voice it that I realize it’s true. He was a convenient shield.

“I really hope your family appreciates you.” Bishop absently rubs the back of my neck; at least I think it’s absently.

“In another family my accomplishments might be celebrated more, but it’s hard to compete when you have a brother who’s a star NHL player. It’s not RJ’s fault, or my parents’, but when you have a kid who shows that much promise and potential, you do whatever you can to help them succeed. I’m proud of RJ, but when you have a light that bright beside you, it sort of forces you into the shadows. Not that I mind the shadows. I prefer them to the spotlight.”

“Is that why you avoid games and telling people Rook is your brother?”

“Sort of. I don’t want to get used because my brother is who he is. It’s happened before, and I’m sure it will happen again.”

“How do you mean?”

“Sometimes people would use the fact that I’m his sister to try to get to him. Especially when he went through his bunny phase.”

“He was pretty high profile for a while there. I wasn’t sure if any of it was taken out of context or not.”

“Kind of hard to take a threesome in a hot tub out of context,” I say derisively. “He made such bad decisions for a while, and my parents were so angry with him. I was almost . . . glad to see him fall from grace for a while, maybe?”

“Because the media wasn’t spinning him as a golden boy?”

I cringe and nod. “It’s not that I didn’t want him to be successful. I did, I still do, but he had no idea what kind of impact his choices had on me. We grew up in a rural town. The entire high school practically worshipped him. When he started sleeping around with puck bunnies, I was suddenly the most popular and hated girl in the school. For, like, half a second I enjoyed the attention. And then the catty, bitchy behavior came out. Girls can be horrible to each other.”

“You’re kind of the opposite of my brother. He uses my name to get women into bed with him and doesn’t feel bad about sending them packing, because he knows why they’re there.”

“That would make me feel . . . hollow.”

Bishop nods. “It’s his way of avoiding getting into an actual relationship. I think he’s afraid to settle down with any one person because his health is what it is. Even if he takes great care of himself, he’ll still face challenges, like your dad did. And knowing that he could potentially be leaving behind all these people who need him . . . I think he doesn’t like that possibility. Besides, we didn’t have the best role model with our dad.”

“How so?” I’m afraid to look directly at him, for fear he won’t answer. This is the most open he’s been with me, although I did pretty much spill my guts to him.

“He traveled for work often and left my mom to take care of us. My brother was a lot of work as a kid because of all the appointments, and they needed the health care benefits. I was a lot of work because, as you know, hockey is time consuming, and my mom was doing it alone, essentially.” Bishop stares out the windshield, and I wonder if he’s caught up in the memories of his childhood. It was a lot for my parents to run the farm and take RJ to all his practices and tournaments, and that was with both of them around. I couldn’t even imagine how difficult it would be as a mostly single parent.

“They fought a lot, and eventually their marriage dissolved. My dad bailed, and before the divorce papers were even signed, he was shacking up with one of his colleagues who he’d been taking trips with for years. My mom has never said as much, but I seriously doubt that relationship started after their marriage ended.”

I squeeze the hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard for all of you.”

“My dad wasn’t very present in our lives, so the divorce wasn’t as big a deal as it could’ve been. Not for me and Nolan, anyway. It was almost expected. But I guess it framed the way I dealt with relationships, which was to avoid them for the most part. I had one long-term girlfriend back when I got drafted out of college, but it didn’t last.”

“Because you have trust issues?” I would if that’s how my parents’ marriage ended.

He shrugs. “Not really. It was more that she wasn’t as interested in me as she was the attention being with me got her. I guess sort of the same thing you worry about with friends using you because of Rook’s fame. I’m not really interested in being with someone whose primary concern is whether their social media following is growing on account of our relationship status, you know? Besides, you’ve met me; I don’t have a shining personality that women fall for.”

“You’ve grown on me.”

“Like fungus.”

I chuckle quietly. “We’re quite the messed-up pair.”

“Everyone has a demon or two, Stevie. You just gotta learn how to live with them and find other people who think all your good parts outweigh the bad.” Bishop gives my neck a squeeze and drops his hand. “You ready to go home?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

When we get back to the apartment, I fully expect Bishop to come in so we can do his PT and deal with the decorations. But when we reach my door, he pulls me in to him. At first I don’t get what’s going on, and then I realize Bishop is hugging me.

I’m slow to react, but eventually I wrap my arms around his waist and settle my palms on his broad back, the muscles flexing under the skin. I rest my cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt, listening to his heart thumping steadily. He smells really good, like greasy takeout, but also faintly of cologne.

I realize that this is the first time Bishop has hugged me on purpose. It doesn’t escape me that it’s also the first time he’s really opened up to me about his life and who he is, or that it’s also been an emotional day and maybe that’s why he’s being all . . . affectionate.

Eventually he leans back, and I tip my chin up so I can see his face. His expression is serious and intense, although that’s fairly common for him. I’m pretty sure I have burger breath, so I make sure I exhale through my nose.

His gaze moves over my face like a gentle caress. “We need to talk about last night.” His arms are wrapped around me, and I’m still shocked by the hug, so it takes me several long seconds to process his words.

I let my palms settle on his forearms. “We can pretend it didn’t happen, can’t we?”

“Is that what you want?”

I shrug and stare at his Adam’s apple. What I want is for him to tip my chin up and press his lips to mine. But all I can think about is what Joey said about him being a rebound, how Bishop dismissed it, how I don’t want to use him, and how I should be focused on his rehab and not what dating him would be like.