Page 39 of My Brother's Teammates

I scrub my chin, taking her in from the kitchen as I jab buttons on the coffee maker at random, staying just out of sight like a fucking creeper.

The sun’s already up as I watch her out the window. She takes a deep inhale from the steaming mug cradled in her hands as the golden light bounces off her rich, red curls.

She’s a fucking goddess.

Dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her feet up on the patio table, she’s watching everything pass by on the street below like she doesn’t have a care in the world, when in actual fact, the weight of it is resting squarely on her shoulders.

Between the multitude of unanswered texts from her mom, the ice rolling off of Jace all evening, and the hushed conversation her brother had with her before she left, it was a rough night. She didn’t say anything at dinner, but I expected her to be waiting for us when we got home, ready to hash things out. But she was already in her room with the door closed when we got back.

Every instinct I had told me to go talk to her, to make sure she didn’t need something, but it was clear she wanted to be left alone. Not that she’d want to see me, either. I haven’t been the most friendly toward her the past couple days.

Dammit.

I can’t get anything right when it comes to her. She’s got me all tied up into knots, and I don’t know what to do. Except stare at her through a window, it seems.

How has she only been with us for five days?

Longest five days of my fucking life, yet it’s becoming harder to think back to a time when she wasn’t here.

That’s not healthy, right?

This deep feeling of comfort having her around our space can’t be a good thing when we’re all trying to keep up appearances for her brother.

When complacency happens, so do mistakes.

Like last fucking night. Jace opened his big, angry mouth and spilled Charlie’s lack of employment status to her mom and brother.

Fuck. My mouth dries up.

When he’d gotten back to the table, Harrison had asked if there were any other secrets about his sister he should know. Mateo flat-out said no, putting us all on the hook for when Harrison finds out his sister’s not only unemployed, but living with us as well.

It’s just a matter of time. If Jace can explode like that and share shit he shouldn’t, our vault of secrets isn’t as tightly locked up as it should be. Someone’s gonna fuck up and tell Harrison. From his point of view, we’ll have lied to him all over again.

And then where will we be? Probably fucking fighting each other on the ice—which would be a disaster.

My stomach lurches.

As a team, we’re known far and wide for being upstanding. The coaches don’t need to set curfews or babysit us because, as captain, Harrison takes no shit. Sure, like every team, we have the occasional very low-key PR mishap, like the time one of the rookies got a little too drunk in Texas after a game and ended up walking through the hotel lobby in his birthday suit.

But it’s never anything salacious, never anything dramatic or angsty.

Our team is above reproach.

Usually.

This… this is reproachful. If it got out—any of it, fighting amongst team members, unprofessional behavior—the scandal it would bring on the team is next level. The press would eat this shit up for fucking years.

I sweep away a bead of sweat from the back of my neck. This can’t get worse. It can’t. We need damage control, but since I keep messing up, I have no idea what that might look like.

I mean, most of the time, I leave her alone. I have to.

As much as I want to be around her, to fucking smell her goddamn hair like some kind of Shakespearean psychotic stalker-killer on a Netflix series, I can’t let myself get into a situation where it’s just the two of us because I know I’d fuck up. I’d let my feelings spill out of the hole in my face, and I’d probably end up kissing her, consequences be fucking damned.

And that’s the problem.

Consequences won’t be damned, we will.

It strikes me that even if Jace did break the house rules and kiss her last night, I’d still shoot my shot with her. Even if all I ever get is just one kiss. It might be worth the broken nose from my roommate.

---