Page 25 of My Brother's Teammates

For some reason, I want her to talk to me, to open up, to fucking trust me, and that feels foreign as hell. I’m not the guy that wants to connect to the women I date—yes, I know I’m using that term loosely—or really anyone at all. I’m not the guy that digs deeper, who wants to go beyond a few mutual orgasms and a friendly handshake. This isn’t me, but when it comes to Charlie and the lost, faraway look in her eyes, I want it to be.

She’s got me all twisted up, and fuck if I don’t want to unravel from her.

I spin around and drag us both against the front of the couch. She lets out a soft sigh, relaxing against the cool leather and resting her head on my shoulder. I want to pull her into my lap and wrap my arms around her. I want to kiss her fucking senseless and make her forget all about her shitty day. I just want her… but that’s something I’m going to have to fight.

At least for now.

After several more seconds of silence, she sighs again. “How did you know hockey was it for you?”

“Obviously, I’m insanely talented,” I chuckle, taking her hand and threading her fingers with mine. I might not be able to cross any lines yet, but that doesn’t mean I can’t stand close to them.

“Obviously.”

I clear my throat, tightening my hold on her hand. “It was the one place that always felt like home.” I pause and take a deep breath. “My dad had a heart attack and died when I was fourteen. It was tough. My mom fell apart, and I have two younger brothers and a sister who depended on me to hold the family together. I was their rock, but on the ice, I was just another punk-ass kid with more talent than sense. All my worries, my responsibilities, the grief I kept locked up, it all melted away. Playing hockey makes the world shrink. It lets me breathe. Everything else just kind of fades into the background.”

She lifts her head and meets my gaze, her eyes swimming with more tears. “Wow.”

I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, the lip I really want to take between my teeth and… shit, can’t go there right now. Poor girl just lost her job. And she’s off-limits. Pull it together, Mateo. “Yeah?”

“Seriously, I didn’t know you were so deep. Damn, Teo, I’m seeing a whole new side to you right now.”

“Just don’t go telling everyone. I don’t want to ruin my reputation.”

She straightens her shoulders, locks her lips with an imaginary key, and tosses it away. It’s fucking cute. “Your secret is safe with me. You can keep being a himbo, and no one will suspect a thing.”

“Ouch. Himbo? Really?”

This time when she looks at me, her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Would you prefer man-whore?”

“You wound me, Red.” I rub a hand over my heart and groan. “I think that’s worse than himbo.”

“If the condom fits.” She smirks, but as she glances down toward the bulge in my jeans, her cheeks burn a dark crimson. “Or in your case, maybe it doesn’t.”

Jesus.

I shift as my dick starts to harden, promising myself a romantic date with Rosie Palm later if it calms the hell down. It might be the right place, but this isn’t anywhere close to the right time.

“Not to imply you don’t wear condoms,” Charlie murmurs, keeping her gaze on my cock and testing all the damn self-control I have. “I’m sure you have to with the number of women you—” Her eyes widen and travel back up toward my face. “I’m so sorry. You’re letting me stay here, I shouldn’t be talking about your extracurricular activities.” This time her face falls, and she pulls her hand from mine. “And I’m probably interfering with your bunny fucks and?—”

“My bunny fucks?” I toss my head back and laugh. I know I’ve got a bit of a reputation as a playboy, but in truth, I haven’t messed around with the bunnies in a few months. They just didn’t… I don’t know, I guess I needed a break from the same old superficial bullshit. “Don’t worry about me, Red. I can take care of myself.”

Her cheeks darken once again, and she quickly glances away.

“Anyway.” I clear my throat and grab her hand again, sweeping my thumb across the backs of her fingers. “You were just about to spill all your deep, dark secrets.”

“Was I?” she muses, turning my hand over and tracing the lines on my palm. “Doesn’t sound like me.”

“Come on, Charlotte. What makes you happy? What makes the world fade away?”

She takes a deep breath, her gaze hesitant as it falls to the floor. “You can’t laugh.”

With my free hand, I run my fingers along her jaw and force her eyes to meet mine. “I promise.”

“I, uh, I make lingerie on the weekends. I love to sew and create things that make people feel sexy.” She pauses with a sigh. “It’s probably stupid, and my friends buy everything I make, but when I’m sketching designs or sewing the fabric together, I’m happy.”

She makes lingerie? Fuck. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a fucking boner. But then an image of Charlie hijacks all my brain cells. Her beautiful red hair is loose around her shoulders, a perfect contrast to the black lace corset her breasts are spilling out of… and then there’s the matching thong. And the thigh-highs. And the garter. Fuck. I’m hard as a goddamn rock.

There’s no way she’s not going to notice.

---