Page 104 of My Brother's Teammates

The damage has been done.

I flank Roman’s other side, placing a hand on his shoulder as his entire body heaves with every single breath. Harrison looks up at the three of us, his jaw working back and forth. He spits blood on the floor, swiping at a trail trickling down his chin.

The guys around us are all slack-jawed, their eyes bulging. I’m sure none of them have ever seen their Captain get the fuck punched out of him by his goalie and best friend.

Harrison opens his mouth but doesn’t get a chance to say a word as Coach Finn flies out of his office. The rest of the team either hustle toward the showers or look extra busy, digging in their stall for God knows what.

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with the four of you, but you need to pull your heads out of your asses. We’re here to play hockey and win games. That door right there—” He comes to a stop next to us, his face beet red as he points toward the doors leading to the outside of the arena, “—that’s where you drop off your fucking problems and your fucking drama. Right at that goddamned door, and you come in here like professional athletes.”

“Sorry, Coach.” I hang my head, Roman allowing me to pull him back a couple steps. “It won’t happen again.”

And it won’t. Something has to give. We can’t continue on like this. We need to get our heads out of our asses, find Charlotte, and make Harrison talk to us.

Well, if there is an us anymore.

“Once was enough.” He looks around the room, his steely gaze resting on Roman. “Martinez, if you hit another player in my locker room again, I will bench you for the rest of the season. You’re not the only goalie I have, and you won’t see another second of play if you can’t act like an adult.” He glares around the room. “All of you, clean yourselves up and get the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, Coach,” we grumble simultaneously.

He spins on his heel and stomps halfway back to his office before he whips back around. “I want the four of you here an hour before practice for laps. I expect to see hockey players in the morning, not a group of children.”

We all stare at each other for what feels like several minutes—minutes filled with so much tension, it’s palpable.

Jace is the first one to leave, muttering a curse and heading down to his stall.

Harrison is next, storming off to the showers, not even sparing us another glance.

I stare after him for a long time, probably longer than I should, but I’m a little surprised our friendship has devolved this much. We can’t even be in the same room without bloodshed.

How are we ever going to fix this?

Roman comes up beside me, his hand wrapping around mine. “I punched him.” His tone is laced with such disbelief that I can’t help but laugh.

“You did.” I turn to face him, giving him a halfhearted smile, and squeeze his hand.

He turns to face me, his free hand sweeping the hair off my forehead. “You sure you’re okay? That was a bad hit.”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, but nothing couch cuddles and a romcom can’t fix.” I chuckle as he rolls his eyes. He can play a big game, but I know he’s warming up to Molly Ringwald. If he’s good, I’ll introduce him to Sandra Bullock. “Jace is coming home.”

“Good.” He drops my hand, taking a step away from me as Johnston comes back from the showers. “I… uh…” He scratches his head, his gaze dropping to the ground before lifting to meet mine. His eyes are warm, swimming with emotion. “When you hit the ice, I just…”

He looks at the floor, the ceiling, everywhere but me as he flounders to find words.

“Me too, Roman.” For the first time all day, my smile is genuine.

He loves me. Lucky for us, I love him too.

And Jace is coming home.

Now all we need is Charlotte.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Charlotte

What the actual fuck is going on down there on the ice?

It looks like nineteen thousand people showed up to a hockey game, but instead, we’re watching a goddamn calf scramble at the fucking rodeo. It’s like a bunch of strangers threw on some Phantoms shirts and decided they wanted to play NHL hockey for the night—having never skated before, or even watched a game.

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