A Better Man(15)

"I'm not touching that after you've had your fingers all over it." She finally sat up. Unfortunately it was to turn her back on him and keep texting.

"Nicki. Could you please turn around so we can talk?"

"Nothing to say."

Accustomed to handling loud, obnoxious hockey players but highly unused to dealing with teenage girls in a snit, he wanted to groan.

Loudly.

"There's plenty to say." He bit into the cookie. "And these are really good. You're missing out."

She made a noise that fell somewhere between a scoff and a sniff.

Late afternoon sun beamed through the lace-­covered window and danced across her long dark chocolate curls. The stiffness in her shoulders might have frightened weaker men, but Jordan faced two-­hundred-­pound sneering opponents on a daily basis. One little bit of a girl wasn't going to scare him away.

"I'm trying to be nice here."

"Why?" She spun around; narrowed those dark blue eyes that snapped with anger, hurt, and confusion; and aimed her daggers in his direction. "Everyone knows you're leaving, so why bother?"

Whoa.

Tempted to take a step back from the force of her anger, he did just the opposite and stepped forward. "In case you didn't hear me, I said I was all in." 

"For as long as it gets you what you want. Then you're gone. You're always gone." Her eyes narrowed again. "You don't belong here. So why don't you just get the hell out now?"

Instead of turning her back on him as he'd expected, she glared so hard it burned a hole right through the center of his heart.

He had no experience at this kind of thing. This was something his mom and dad excelled at. They'd had six kids to practice on. They'd put their hearts and souls into always doing the right thing, making good points, and practicing what they preached. Jordan had none of the above. And unless angels came down from heaven to help him out, he was flying blind on this one.

"I'm not going anywhere." He pulled out the chair tucked beneath her vanity, spun it around, and straddled it backward. He folded his arms across the back and tried to soften the hard features he used to intimidate an adversary on the ice. "I understand you're hurt right now and probably a little scared too. Losing Mom and Dad has knocked the wind out of all of us. But I'm not the enemy, Nicki. I'm your brother and I care about you."

"Bullshit."

How was it that one little slip of a girl could hit so hard with only words?

"It's true. I'm sorry I haven't been around. That's all on me. And I know I'm the one who has to make changes. But you've got to give me the opportunity to make them."

"I don't have to do anything. You already proved yourself the last seventeen years of my life." She folded her arms and glared at him as though daring him to prove her wrong.

He couldn't.

"You're right."

She blinked.

Yeah, that one took her back a step.

"I've been a bad brother." He shrugged. "I figured you had Mom and Dad and plenty of other brothers and you wouldn't miss me."

"You don't know jack about what goes on around here." Dark, arched brows pulled together over her red-­rimmed eyes. "And by the way, if you're trying to convince me you're suddenly a good guy, that's not saying much for yourself."

"I'm not trying to convince you of anything. But one thing you'll learn about me is that I don't lie. It's a complete waste of time. When I've screwed up, I'll be the first one to admit it."

He didn't take her silence for submission. More than likely she was just loading up on more ammo to shoot in his direction.

"I talked to your teacher today."

"Which one. I've got seven. But then you wouldn't know that, would you. Because you haven't been home for almost a year."

"I get it, Nicole." His hands tightened on the back of the chair. "I've been a bad brother. I haven't been home for almost a year and you hate me. The problem is, none of that negative energy is going to help your grades or help you graduate with the rest of your class. So how about we save the I-­hate-­my-­brother venom for later and move the discussion to why it is you don't do your assignments? Or better yet, let's talk about why you choose to put the effort into whatever the hell you want to write about instead of what everyone else is doing?"

"Because everyone else is doing the same boring thing."

"And you don't want to be like everybody else?"



       
         
       
        

She gave him a look that silently screamed, Duh.