Page 40 of My Brother's Teammates

Unless, of course, they’re officially official. I’d never make a move on another man’s woman without permission. But if he’s just stepped over the admittedly wobbly lines we drew and kissed her… then I feel like Mateo and I should get a chance to, I dunno, at least take her out somewhere, or… something.

There’s something about her, a magnetism that spans beyond her auburn curls, her blue eyes, and her plush curves. A charm, a magic that shimmers around her, so I wouldn’t blame Jace for kissing her if he did. We all feel it. Hell, even the mail carrier and the barista at the coffee shop around the corner feel it.

Her douche nozzle ex, Shane, didn’t, but that’s more about his shortcomings than hers.

Fuck. I drag my hands through my hair. I’m starting to sound like one of those goddamn romance novels Mateo reads when he thinks no one is paying attention. Or a poet or some shit.

It’s how I know I’ve stared at her for long enough, when I start crafting poems in my head. It’s time to go, but when I try to back away, my movement catches her attention. Her face breaks out into a smile that makes my breath catch in my chest.

How can she still smile at me when I’ve been a bit of a dick to her the last couple days?

I give her a weak smile in return.

I rub my chest as it tightens, her eyes boring into me. Shit. That means I have to actually talk to her now. I can’t sneak back to my room without saying a quick hello.

So much for keeping my distance. And I don’t have it in me to be an ass to her today, for both our sakes I need to be cordial.

When she beckons me out onto the balcony, pointing at the carafe of coffee and the spare mug on the table, she grins like she knows she’s got me. Before she arrived, I spent every morning, rain, hail, or snow, out on the balcony with a Sudoku puzzle and coffee. It’s as if she knows what my routine was before she came and that she’s upended it. It’s no secret goalies can be contrary. Maybe she’s decided to try to rectify it somehow—or join me in it.

Probably wishful thinking there. The red-haired tornado wasn’t made to keep the peace, she was made to blaze like a bright beacon.

I need to keep my feelings in check. I need to not make this situation any worse than it already is. I need to not end up a missing person because my team captain tore me limb-from-limb and hid my body parts in the Louisiana swamp.

“Hey there.” When I step out onto the balcony, Charlotte’s gaze lingers on my bare chest for a beat more than it probably should. There isn’t so much as a chill in the still morning air, but I should’ve put on a shirt.

“Hey, yourself.”

“You sleep okay?” Instead of meeting her eyes, I pour myself a mug of coffee from the carafe she had ready as I pay attention to the early-morning bustle on the streets of New Orleans below.

One of her shoulders lifts. “I guess.”

“Yeah, me neither. Wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t think so.” She takes another sip. “But we probably should.”

I try to buy myself time by taking a sip of coffee, but it goes down the wrong way, and I end up watery-eyed with a burning chest instead.

“Did your mama never teach you how to drink?” Her voice is as warm as always, but she’s being too nice to me.

“I’m sorry I’ve been kind of an ass.”

She studies me over the rim of her mug as she demonstrates how to take a drink without inhaling it at the same time. “I wouldn’t say an ass.” She tips her head. “Not per se.” Another drink, and damn, I’d give nearly anything for her to wrap her lips around me the way that porcelain’s sitting pretty in her mouth.

Stop it. Don’t make things worse.

Be cordial and not a horny teenager.

“I think you’ve been a bit hot and cold, aloof… I’m sure there are other adjectives to describe your behavior. I had hoped it was just a goalie thing, not a me thing.” Her shoulder lifts again. “Denial.” Her smile is small, brittle, and doesn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s really hard keeping secrets from Harrison, that’s all.”

She nods, taking another drink. Maybe she’s buying time before she answers, too.

“We’ve played together for a long time. We’re best friends, and we usually know everything there is to know about each other. This… isn’t small.” I sip my drink, more carefully this time. “Don’t get me wrong, we all agreed to keep the secret, it’s just…”

She sighs. “Awful? Soul crushing?” She rubs her breastbone with the heel of her hand like it’s physically sore. “The guilt might kill me.”

I feel that deep in my bones. The guilt might kill all of us. At the very least it’s causing cracks to form in our friendships with Harrison, and when you rely on each other on the ice… we can’t afford cracks.

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