Page 62 of My Brother's Teammates

Jace’s scowl deepens, Roman looks like he might puke, and Mateo’s doing a terrible job of not smirking as mirth dances in his eyes.

“It’s not fucking funny, Charlotte!” The underlying growl in Jace’s voice should probably not make me horny. It’s likely he’s trying to make me back down, but he just makes me angrier, and my gut tightens.

“Oh, but it is. Because the whole fucking Phantoms Fandom now thinks I’m your girl. How long before it hits the gossip forums? Hmm? And what if someone out there,” I hook a thumb over my shoulder, “heard this?” I circle my finger around the four of us. “None of you will get slut-shamed by the outside world for all banging the same girl. No, you’ll get fucking glorified. There’ll be songs written about you, while I’ll be Fournier’s slutty little sister who couldn’t keep her legs shut.”

Roman’s mouth falls open, his eyes popping wide. Jace moves to step toward me, but Teo smacks the back of his hand on Jace’s chest. I try to walk past Jace but he doesn’t let me, so I try to walk between him and Mateo, but again, he doesn’t move.

“Jace, move. Just forget it. Go back to your little Pussy Party. When you figure out what’s best for everyone, be sure to send a group text so we’re all on the same page. I’m going to my room.”

TWENTY-THREE

Jace

I’ll be damned if Charlotte thinks she’s going to go to her room right now. She’s going to have to knock me out if she wants to get rid of me, and judging the size of her tiny fist, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

She wants a goddamned Beaver Rally, I’ll give her one.

“Sit the fuck down, Charlotte.” I take a step toward her, and her glare intensifies, but it’s the tiny twitch at the corner of her lips that gives her away. “I’d hate to have to redden that ass before you plant it on the couch.”

A pretty pink blush spreads across her face, and she rests her hands on her hips, giving me an irritated stare that has my dick hard. “Since when do I take orders from you? Please, continue to plan my entire sexual future.”

“Jesus Christ, it’s like living with toddlers sometimes.” Mateo lets out a sigh to rival all sighs and ushers us to the couch. “I need everyone to sit the fuck down.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as we reluctantly turn and sit.

I’m sandwiched between Roman, who side-eyes me like I owe him money, and Charlotte, still simmering with displeasure. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Mateo deadpans.

Charlotte crosses her arms with a huff. “Well, we’re sitting.”

“Congratulations, you can follow one simple direction.” I blow out a breath, running a hand through my hair. “Fuck.”

It’s not her fault we’re in this dumpster fire, not entirely. That honor goes to me. She may have danced her naked ass into this apartment, hoping we’d give her a place to say, but we’re the ones that put our hands on her. At least Mateo and Roman just kissed her. I had to go the extra distance and make her come with my tongue. It’s been years since I kissed her, so I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t on my list.

And let's not forget about the hockey game.

Or rather, the kiss-cam at the hockey game.

She went along with it, kissing that dickhead like she had no reason not to, because she literally had no reason not to. I should’ve shrugged it off. I told myself to shrug it off. And what did I do? I banged on the glass like a damned neanderthal with only half a working brain.

I didn’t think about her, or Harrison, or any of the other guys. Just my own selfish desire to keep her to myself. You know, in front of nineteen thousand people… including her brother.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, leaning back against the couch, my gaze trained on the floor.

Mateo leans over, a hand cupped around his ear. “What did you say? I don’t think the rest of us heard you.”

I grit my teeth, my narrowed glare trained on him. “I’m sorry I overreacted at the game. I was pissed.”

“Well, that’s an understatement.” Charlotte snorts. “I’m not sure why it matters to you anyway. You hate me, you don’t hate me. You’re giving me whiplash.”

I flinch, her words slicing right through me. If only she knew how wrong she was. I don’t hate her, not even close. The only person I’ve ever come close to hating is myself. “Sorry about that, too. I’m not good with feelings—or admitting that I have them.”

Years. Years I’ve pined for her when I should’ve been able to let go, but I can never seem to get her out of my head. I tried to keep my distance, only allowing myself to see her when she’d come to games to support Harrison. When she’d come over to the apartment, I’d either miraculously have plans or disappear into my room just to stare at my ceiling for hours, berating myself for wanting to spend time with her. The few times she’d join us at the bar, I’d flirt with women, trying to do whatever I could to stop thinking about her, but it never worked.

She was the one I wanted, but the only one I could never have. It’s been a prison of my own making for years, and I deserved it.

Still do.

What kind of guy lusts after his best friend’s sister? A shit one, because not only am I a shit friend, I’m a terrible human being.

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