Page 21 of My Brother's Enemy
Shelly tilted his head, giving me a considering look. “I know Bruge. He just takes time to warm up to people. The team’s already rallying around you. I could tell. If you guys don’t get to playoffs, I’ll be shocked.”
“Maybe.” It felt good to hear that, especially from a friend who was on a different team. I wanted to make sure I was doing my job, that the reason they agreed to take me on was being fulfilled. I was here for my family, but my career couldn’t falter either.
“Was that what got into you tonight? About the team?”
I was still learning the ins and outs of being back in town, so Ray had suggested this place for a private drink. It was just down the block from where their team was staying.
I started to shrug off his question but stopped myself. He and I had done Juniors together. I couldn’t do that to a friend. My phone had been blowing up all night. Nolan had called once and left a text for me to call him. I was sure he was going to ask the same question.
“It’s my family.” I leaned back in the booth and raked a hand over my face. “That shit that came out this last weekend. Saturday, my head was a mess. Skylar broke down again Monday when there was a new wave of media that decided the weekend news shouldn’t die down. Tonight, you got the brunt of it.”
Shelly frowned, leaning forward. “I’m sorry, man. I heard the news. Everyone did, but I didn’t realize it was still going on. How’s your niece doing?”
“They have her in a coma.”
“What?” His eyes widened.
“They’re going to try to bring her out tomorrow.”
He shook his head and swore under his breath.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down.
Rain: Can we talk?
Jesus Christ. This woman. She ignored me all week, staying professional and polite and distant. She was good at her job. I could see it. But there was something odd on her face every time she looked at me and didn’t think anyone was watching—like an uncertainty. I didn’t know what that was about, and I didn’t have time for games either. But in a flash, I remembered her skating that night, how she felt in my arms, the sugar scent of her, and my cock was upright.
Tyler: You wanna fuck?
Rain: You can’t say that to me.
Tyler: Why not?
Rain: It’s unprofessional.
Tyler: I already had my tongue down your throat. We’re past that. Why do you want to talk?
Rain: It’s obvious something’s up with you from that game. I wanted to see if you needed anything.
Tyler: You know what I want from you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not my psychologist.
Tyler: Look. Do you really want me to stop? I will.
I waited, but she didn’t respond to that. That told me enough.
Tyler: Noting your silence. Unless it’s got something to do with you and me getting in all sorts of magical positions, we can keep the business chitchat to business hours in the future. Eh?
Rain: Eh? You’re suddenly Canadian.
Tyler: You Googled me? Is that how you know I’m not from up north?
Rain: No, dumbass. You were a bulldog.
I paused because yeah…if someone googled me, they could see where I went to high school and yeah, they could look up our mascot. That was possible, except fanatics did that sort of thing.
Slick wasn’t a fanatic.
She sure as shit wasn’t a fan of mine either.
