Page 52 of Triple Power Play 3
REECE
It’s getting late, after midnight. Aurora is the first to abandon the couch and curl up on the mattress piled with pillows and blankets. She’s not asleep, but her eyelids are drooping. I’m sure she’s exhausted but holding out for the guys. I know she isn’t staying awake to watch the show because—surprise, surprise—it’s a five-hour documentary on hockey.
The only light is from the glow of the TV and my computer screen. My eyes are sore, screaming at me to take a break. You wouldn’t expect it, but an absurd amount of documentation is required in law enforcement. If it’s not documented, it didn’t happen, and I’m not provided the resources necessary to do my job.
“Hey, Viking. Shut it down and stop avoiding us.”
I’ll never admit when Jackson is right. Still, I save my progress, close the laptop, and flop into the armchair. “Don’t hate me for this, but I don’t watch hockey. I have more important shit to do.”
Jax gives me the side-eye. “Blasphemy. You watch my games. Don’t lie.”
“Because I’m forced to.”
“Liar,” he says under his breath.
Aurora glances at me, probably gauging the truth of my words. I shoot her a wink to let her know I’m joking. If she believes I’m obligated to go to his games and don’t enjoy it, she’ll find a reason for me to stay home. Honestly, I don’t mind. I’m not there for the game.
Ethan shifts to face me. “Did you play sports?”
Since his fit of jealousy, he’s been quiet, his eyes fixed on Aurora’s every move.
“I grew up in the South. Anybody who’s anybody plays football.”
I followed the script and did what was expected of me my entire life, including playing football from age five. Football is life, and I went along with it, since that’s what good ol’ Southern boys do—just like my father, his father, and every father before him, I’m sure. The same goes for joining the military.
Thinking back on my childhood is like watching a movie starring someone else. It doesn’t seem real. The last time I went home, it felt as though I woke in a complete stranger’s house. I didn’t belong, but they continued to treat me as family.
“What position did you play?”
I blink a few times to get my head straight. “Linebacker throughout high school. I didn’t play after that. I went to boot camp.”
He makes a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Were you any good?”
Jax throws his hands in the air, his nose scrunched in annoyance. “Oh my fucking God! Stop,” he blurts.
Ethan’s expression hardens. “What the fuck is your problem?”
Our girl sits up, legs crossed and arms outstretched behind her, to watch the drama unfold.
“Really?” Jackson deadpans, eyes squinted. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”
Aurora and I exchange puzzled glances. Ethan can’t be interested in me playing for him. I’m almost thirty, have never played hockey, can’t even balance on skates, and my list of injuries from the military is a mile long.
Technically, I’m disabled, per the Department of Veterans Affairs. Definitely not playing hockey.
Ethan leans in, narrowing the gap between them on the couch. “Oh, yeah? What am I doing, Jax?”
“You’re recruiting his kids before they even leave his balls.”
What?I have no idea what he’s suggesting, but I’m cracking up, laughter bursting from my chest. His thought process is truly remarkable.
They stare at each other, having some wordless conversation before Ethan says, “Every team needs an offense and a defense.”
Jackson stiffens. “Youplayed defense, dickhead.”
A smirk plays on Ethan’s lips, and his eyes shine with amusement. “Then there’s the goalie, who holds the key to the team’s success.”
Without warning, Jax lunges at his bestie, snarling, “You’re getting on my last fucking nerve.”
