Page 126 of My Brother's Teammates

“What happened?” I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I saw that coming from a mile away. She was a terrible person for Harrison. They were never going to work. And yeah, we could have told him, but he was so invested we didn’t want to ruin it for him. At the end of the day, I wasn’t the one that had to stick my dick in her. If she made him happy, I was happy. Even though I saw nothing appealing about her whatsoever.

“What?” Mateo draws out the word, opening his eyes wide and placing a hand over his heart. Always the drama. “She seemed so nice. Not Lydia.”

Harrison huffs a laugh, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Your sarcasm is noted. Although, not necessarily appreciated.”

“Are you okay?” Charlotte ushers us to the side of the room as the noise picks up around us. The DJ is playing a new song, some type of slow jazz I don’t care for, and since we haven’t caused a scene, most people have gone back to their conversations.

“Yeah.” He nods, and he looks like he’s telling the truth. Although, I wish he would have felt like he could talk to me about the breakup before now. “Kinda relieved actually. You guys think I could get my old room back?”

Roman chuckles nervously, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, and I know he’s thinking of a tactful way to say ‘no way in hell.’

But after a slightly awkward stare down between the five of us, with Charlotte turning a nice shade of pink, we all erupt into laughter.

“You should have seen your face.” Harrison points to Roman. “It was the same look you had when you were pulling out those fake intestines.”

Charlotte’s brows scrunch together as she peers between the two of them. Harrison is still chuckling while Roman’s face is getting redder by the second.

Mateo slings his arm around Charlotte, but before we can get a word out, there’s a scoff behind us. “Don’t you guys look cozy?”

Shane, Charlotte’s piece of shit ex-boyfriend. He must not have an ounce of self- preservation. Especially since he’s still standing there, a smarmy grin on his face, oblivious to the fact that there are four hockey players ready to rip him in half.

And we’ve all taken a step forward, sheltering Charlotte behind us. Harrison is flexing his fists at his sides. Roman glares at him, placing a hand on a very pissed off Mateo.

I cross my arms, clenching my jaw as I wait for him to dig his own fucking grave. This guy is an arrogant cocksucker, and there’s no way he came over here to be polite.

“Always knew your sister was easy, Harrison, but didn’t know she had it in her to fuck the whole hockey team. Bravo, Charlotte.” The bastard smacks his hands together, the slow clap of his imminent death. “Didn’t know hockey players were such chubby chasers. So, how does it work? Do you take turns? Do?—?”

We all move at once, trying to get to him, but he doesn’t get another word out. He doesn’t get a chance. Not when Charlotte pushes through us and punches him right in the mouth.

She doesn’t do much damage, but her message is clear.

Shane stares at her, his mouth opening and closing like the bloated fish he is.

I couldn’t be prouder of our girl standing up for herself. She deserves so much better than this dick. It’s a little fucked up I didn’t get to punch him first, but I’ll be okay.

Charlotte takes a step back, her gaze hot as she watches him, shaking out her fist. “Not another word. Walk away, Shane.”

She grabs Roman and Mateo, who both look close to combusting, and forces them to turn and start walking away. Harrison and I exchange a glance, and whatever he sees on my face—probably the rage simmering inside my bones—causes him to shake his head.

With a sigh, I turn and follow him to the bar. Or at least I was going to.

“That’s it, Charlotte. Run away. I’m sure the team is ready for you to open your legs, any?—”

I don’t hold back, whipping around and sucker punching him right in his smug face.

His nose crunches under my fist and he flies backwards, landing on his ass with a cry. His hands cover his nose and there’s a small trail of blood dribbling down his chin.

Let’s see if he’s still grinning after that.

My fingers flex as I stare down at him, daring him to get back up and say something else, but he just squirms around on the ground, bitching and moaning about how I punched him.

A hand squeezes my shoulder and I shrug it off, thinking it’s Harrison, but turn to find Coach Finn watching me with a raised brow. He looks around the room, and that’s when I notice everyone is now one hundred percent staring at me.

Well, fuck.

“This man bothering you?” He points down to Shane, his gaze never leaving mine.

I shake my head, taking a deep breath. “Not anymore, Coach.”

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