Page 80 of Pucked Together

She sounds surprised.

"We've hung out quite a bit," I admit to her so that her dog's reaction to me does not entirely fluster her.

Though I am glad that somebody remembers me.

"My brother said you moved away. He made it sound like it was far away. Does he know you’re right around the corner?"

“Not yet. Speaking of your brother, does he know you’re here?”

She gives me a deadpan look that suggests 'she's grown,' and a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

"Would you like to sit, Izzy?” I motion to the empty lounge chair beside me, and she looks from me to Wednesday and then decides to accept my offer.

"So you and Keelan….such great friends that you had to stay in the same neighborhood, huh?" She pulls her legs under her and leans back into the lounge. I take my seat again, and Wednesday cuddles up to my side.

Izzy's eyes stay trained on her dog. "Looks like my dog is charmed by you, too." She says.

"Charmed, too?" I chuckle.

"You must be the guy everyone likes. The guy that babies stop crying when you hold them, and dogs drag their owners around to get to them."

Ha! She couldn't be further from the truth. But she doesn't know me. To Izzy, I'm not Ryker Balinger, her Goalie-zilla. I'm just her brother's best friend. Some guy she doesn't even know.

My brother walks up to us and holds out two bottles of water.

"That would be me, actually," Rowan says as Izzy takes one of the proffered bottles.

"Oh, thanks," she says, smiling at him.

Rowan throws her a wink and sits at the end of my lounge chair. I'm sure I can't hide my glare because he's raising a brow at me questioningly. "Aren't you going to introduce us, bro?"

I clear my throat, fully aware that my brother hasn't been in the presence of many females, let alone any that look like Isabella Landry, in quite some time...if ever.

"Izzy. This is my brother, Rowan Balinger. He just moved here, too."

"Nice to meet you," Izzy says, extending a hand. "I live just down the road, apparently."

Rowan laughs. "Apparently. Well, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Yeah, you too. Where'd you move from?" she asks.

Rowan gives me a quick look.

"Row just moved here from Oklahoma. But we were both born and raised here in Houston."

"Huh," Izzy studies us. "Just a couple of Texas cowboys."

"I hear you’re from Cali," Row says. "You miss it?"

Izzy scrunches her brows together as if trying to remember. "I think so. I love the ocean. And the sunsets over the water. It's one of my favorite things to photograph."

Her phone starts to ring in her jacket pocket. "Excuse me," she says as she fishes it out. She rolls her eyes and turns off the ringer. "And I miss not having a babysitter, twenty-four-seven,” she adds.

"Me too," says Rowan, and I shake my head, knowing he's referring to life before he landed behind bars.

Her phone vibrates, and she tries to pretend like she doesn’t hear it.

"You should probably answer that if it's Keelan.” I urge her. “He'll file a missing person's report.”