Page 57 of My Brother's Teammates

“Even I could have saved that first one.” Alec’s smugness makes me want to elbow him in the face. Considering he just found out how the game works two seconds ago, he needs to calm his tits.

“Roman’s one of the top netminders in the league.” There. No broken teeth, and I combatted his criticism with facts. I should pat myself on the back for that one.

“Not for long if he keeps letting goals like that in.”

Oh. Hell no.

My dude has watched twenty-one minutes of hockey and now thinks himself a voice of experience on the game?

I think fucking not, my friend.

Glaring at him, I arch an eyebrow in challenge. “Those of us who have been around the game for more than twenty minutes know he’s reliable between the pipes. Kinda dickish to judge him based on sixty seconds of play.”

In turn, Alec levels me with a stare of his own. “Awfully defensive of the goaltender, Char. He a friend of yours?”

“Charlotte,” I snap, keeping my eyes on the giant goalie who has no idea I’m even staring at him. “Or Charlie.”

He’s right that I’m defensive of Roman, but Alec’s still being douchey.

“I’m defensive of my whole team. I’m not a fair-weather fan.” I roll my eyes like I’m done with this conversation, right as the whistle sounds to halt play in the game.

I fold my arms, angling my shoulder toward Alec as something plays on the jumbotron overhead. I don’t care about the screen, nor the date I’m on. I want my boys to find their mojo and get two goals back on the board.

Someone beside me nudges me, and when I jump, she points up at the screen.

My stomach sinks.

Right there, on the ginormous screen in the middle of the fucking game, is my scowling, now incredulous-looking face.

The words kiss cam are written across the top and there’s a giant bright-pink heart around Alec and me.

My face burns. I can’t risk looking on the ice or on the bench. I also don’t need to. I feel their accusing stares all over my body. So much so, a shiver passes up my spine.

The girl beside me nudges me against Alec. “Go on. Kiss him!”

Harrison is watching. If I don’t kiss Alec he’ll ask me why not. And if I do kiss him, I’ll have three very grumpy roommates that may or may not vent their displeasure at another man being near my lips… face… uh… in my general space.

Alec squeezes my knee, his voice next to my ear. “Let’s give them what they want.” He cups my chin with his fingers and turns me to him. Then, before I can think, react, or even breathe, he plants his lips firmly on mine.

TWENTY-ONE

Roman

Their extra skater hits the ice with fresh legs. Damn near every person in the nineteen-thousand-seater arena sucks in a collective breath as the Armadillos come across center ice on the attack. Harrison turns over the puck as they cross the blue line into my zone. The puck rattles around the boards, coming in my direction, so I skate to the right of my net to meet it.

I’ve been playing hockey since I could walk, and right now it looks like I haven’t played a day in my life.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Easy question. Harrison told us in the locker room during the first period break that he caught a glimpse of Charlie in the stands with the guy she met at his place last night, and now we’re all fucked up.

Two goals in under a minute.

They’re gonna have a special jersey customized just for me that says Sieve across my shoulders instead of Martinez.

Fucking sieve.

The three of us have betrayed both one of our best friends, and our captain. This is the one girl who’s off-limits. Not only because of who she is, but because we already stuck our toes across that line with her once, and all we fucking want is to do it again.

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