Page 11 of Accidentally Checked By My Brother's Best Friend

“Then you won’t mind me making a move.” Wallace snickers. “She’s pretty hot.”

Red blurs my vision. There is no way that Wallace is doing anything with Ava. As I move my body forward, Spencer grabs the back of my jersey and stops me.

“Pull it together, Denier!” Spencer yells, shoving me back. “Ten. More. Minutes.”

Meeting his stare, I take a deep breath and give him a stiff nod. Positioning myself in front of the net, I stare at Thompson’s back and wait for the faceoff.

Ten minutes later, the Wolverines pull off the win by one. I did my job and kept my head in the game.

Before heading toward the locker room, I skate by David and Scarlett. I do it every game for my goddaughter, and I’m not skipping it tonight just because Ava is with them.

I see Scar’s palm pressed against the glass when I get close to their seats. I move closer to tap the glass with my fist. Ava is right behind her, smiling and clapping. My heart stutters. Her being at a game, cheering for me, has been a dream I gave up on when I started my NHL career.

Quickly turning away, I skate to the locker room. Only to come face to face with my teammates taunting me about Ava and my reaction to her on the Jumbotron.

“So,” Wallace shouts at me when I walk through the door. “You gonna introduce me to Ava? I hear she’s single.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw, but I don’t do anything except continue to my locker and get out of my uniform.

“I don’t need your help, Denier. I can get an introduction for myself.” Wallace scoffs.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not her type,” I throw over my shoulder, jaw clenched. “She likes men with substance.”

The laughter that rings out in the locker room has Levi mumbling on his way to the shower.

“Ava Norris, huh?” Thompson says quietly from behind me. “Everything makes sense now.”

“What makes sense?” I ask, keeping my voice calm and collected. It’s better if no one knows about my feelings for Ava. Things are already messy without the details.

“Your odd behavior on the plane last week and being off this past week with practices. Distracted, more irritable than usual. Your sloppy play.”

“I’m not more irritable than usual,” I growl at him. I can’t deny or defend anything else. It’s true.

“If you say so.” He slaps me on the shoulder and walks backward toward the shower. “But I’m here if you need an ear.”

“I don’t need an ear,” I grumble, then whisper. “I need a heart specialist.”

Chapter Six

Ava

Hockeygamesmovesofast, and the puck is like looking for a needle in a haystack that someone keeps kicking around. Thankfully, my niece is an encyclopedia of knowledge when it comes to the game. It was like having my own personal tutor on all things hockey. Her comprehension of the players' nicknames, statistics, penalties, and what player caused the penalty—the entirety of it—was key in helping me enjoy the game more.

Truthfully though, the only position I was interested in watching was the goalie, and lucky for me, that’s the most straightforward position on the ice to understand. Just defend the net from the puck. Or “biscuit”, as Scarlett calls it.

Watching Duncan play in person was more exciting than I could’ve imagined. His athleticism and flexibility aren’t something I would’ve ever guessed at. Not to mention the intensity with which he plays. There was a magnetism to him that made it impossible for me to drag my eyes away.

He’s always been intense and committed; it hasn’t mattered what he was doing. Once in, Duncan has always given one hundred percent. However, the version my memory shows me was him as a boy, but this version? This version is all man.

This man left me feeling like a teenager with her first crush. Heart pounding, mouth dry, and swarms of butterflies panicking to break free. My eyes were glued to him. When he skated by us at the end of the game, my stomach quivered, anticipating the possibility of him glancing in my direction.

When he only had eyes for Scarlett, disappointment filled me. I get it; she’s my favorite, too. But the desire for him to search me out was powerful and unnerving.

“Uncle Dunke—” Scarlett begins as we walk away from the bleachers toward the concourse. David looks down at his daughter and warns her with his eyes not to finish that word. A mischievous smile curves her lips as she continues. “Uncle Duncan was off today.”

“He was?” I ask, surprised. “I thought he did great.”

“Aunt Ava, you don’t know hockey,” she chastises me, her tone flabbergasted. I feel the corner of my lip lift. “That was mediocre play at best.”

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