Page 37 of My Brother's Teammates

Well, now I really do owe her a damn apology. I didn’t mean to make her cry, and I sure as hell didn’t mean to spill all her secrets to her family—especially since she’s protecting mine. Ours.

Dammit.

She’s protecting everyone, but who’s looking out for her? Mateo? Roman? They’re not going to give her everything she needs, and it sure as hell can’t be me. If I let her in, if I take down some of the walls I’ve built between us, we’ll end up exactly where we were all those years ago—with her dropping my heart on the floor and walking away.

She’ll break me, and she won’t even know.

That’s why I have to push her away. It’s safer for, well… me.

Not to mention we’re almost to the playoffs, so outside of hockey, none of us have much free time on our hands. We need to be knuckling down, getting more focused, not less. Charlotte is a distraction none of us can afford.

When I get to the ladies' room, I pause.

Am I supposed to just go in? Stand outside like a creeper? What if there’s a bunch of women in there? I’m sure that would be a great headline for the news. Jace Theriot, center for the Phantoms, caught spying on women while they use the bathroom. I’d be the newest New Orleans’ Peeping Tom. There’s no coming back from that.

Just when I’m about to turn around and wait for Charlotte at a distance that wouldn’t be considered indecent, I hear a slight sniffle at the back of the hall.

Hopefully, that’s Charlotte and not some waitress I’m about to scare the shit out of.

I make it a few steps down the hallway, and just as I’m about to turn the corner, Charlotte takes a step from her hiding spot. We both stop short. Her eyes widen and I reach out, gripping her hips to steady her. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

“Jace.” She blows out a breath and quickly swipes at the tear that’s rolling down her cheek. “What are you doing back here? You going to tell the rest of the bar what a loser I am, too?”

Fuck. “No.” My hands tighten on her hips, and I should stop touching her, but I can’t make myself let her go.

She’s always been the only one that calms the storm inside me, the one who can lessen the guilt that clings to my skin like armor. Ever since my parents died, I’ve been filled with so much anger, so much shame. It’s my fault they died, and it’s something I carry with me wherever I go. Charlotte is the only person who truly lets me breathe, who lets in even the tiniest rays of light to chase away the darkness surrounding my heart.

That’s why I kissed her all those years ago. I couldn’t help myself.

And I can’t stop myself from hurting her now.

So even though I should apologize for blabbing her secrets and just walk away, I can’t. She’s my weakness, and up until last week, I’ve been able to pretend she was in the Friend Zone, that I didn’t care.

“Then let me repeat the question. What the fuck are you doing back here? Dammit, Jace.” She shakes her head, those red curls dancing around her face before she glances at the floor. My fingers flex as I fight the urge to wrap her hair around my fist and force her to look at me. “Harrison wasn’t supposed to find out about the job. Not until I had something else going. Or about me not having my own place to live right now. And telling my mom? Really? She already thinks I’m the fuck-up of the family. You know how much that bothers me, and you’ve gone and proved how right they are. Charlotte the screwup. Charlotte the?—”

“You’re not a screwup, Charlotte.”

“Oh, yeah? You were right on the nose. Jobless, homeless, and single in the span of three days. It’s got to be a new record. I really should move back in with my parents. No excuse needed now that they know about my dumpster fire of a life.”

My insides seize, and I take a step forward, crowding her against the wall. I still can’t stop myself when it comes to her. I tip up her chin, bringing her gaze to mine. “You stay with us.”

“Why do you care? What I do has never mattered to you before. You don’t even talk to me when we’re in the same space.”

“I know.” My voice is tight, strained. She can’t know how much she affects me, how much I wish it were true that she doesn’t matter to me. She matters to me more than she’ll ever know. After being a dick for the better part of a decade and continuing the streak right to this minute, making sure she gets back on her feet is the least I can do.

Her bottom lip trembles, and as I slide my thumb across it, she lets out a soft whimper. “I can’t do this with you. You want me to stay, you want me to go, and now you want me to stay again. You hate me, I get it, but my whole life has just imploded, and you’re only making things worse.”

She tries to push past me, but I close the distance between us and tighten my grip on her hip. “I don’t hate you.”

Charlotte opens her mouth but quickly closes it. Her eyes scan my face, giving nothing away. I’d love to know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. If she’s indifferent, or if she’s a mess of rioting emotions like I am. Disappointment in myself, guilt, and self-loathing are all sprinkled with this undeniable attraction I’m trying so hard to ignore. I’ve managed it for the past decade—ever since the kiss that shouldn’t have happened—but I’m not sure why I can’t look away now.

“I don’t hate you at all,” I sigh, resting my forehead on hers. She feels so right in my arms, but fuck, this is so wrong. My best friend—her fucking brother and my team captain—is in the other room, and I can’t seem to stop myself.

I should, but I fucking can’t.

My hand trails down her neck and across her shoulder. Her breath mingles with mine, and while I can’t seem to tear myself away from her bright blue eyes, she seems just as affected. Her entire body is trembling, hopefully vibrating with the same need that’s coursing through my veins.

She grips the front of my shirt, and I lean just a little closer.

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