Page 14 of My Brother's Teammates

Our chests brush together as we both take a deep breath, her lemon scent wrapping around me, pulling me closer.

Just as I’m about to close that gap between us, a loud thumping echoes around the space.

“Are you fuckers ready for practice?” Harrison bangs on the front door like the building’s on fire.

Charlie and I both gasp, jumping apart. I’m glad for the space so she can’t feel how fast my heart is racing. Her elbow catches a pot handle, sending it crashing to the floor, and she scrambles to pick up several handfuls of cubed potatoes while the water from the pot spreads across the tiles.

I kneel beside her and cover her hand with mine. Instead of her eyes meeting my gaze, they linger on where our bodies connect. “Hide, Charlie. Your brother doesn’t know you’re here.”

She sucks in a breath as her eyes dart to mine, those baby blues widening with understanding before she jumps to her feet.

I don’t get up right away. I close my eyes and wallow in her lingering scent, remembering how soft her skin felt beneath my fingers.

Thump, thump, thump. “Where the hell are you, assholes? We’re going to be late.”

As she darts toward the bedrooms, she passes Jace who’s leaning against the kitchen doorframe. In true Jace fashion, his face is impassive, but as he reaches down to adjust himself in his joggers, I know he saw how close I was to Charlie, how close I was to kissing her.

We are so fucking screwed.

SIX

Jace

“Really, Roman?” I stroll into the kitchen, forcing myself to wear a bored expression, even though my heart is racing and my dick is so hard I could play hockey with it. “I’d expect this kind of shit from Mateo, but you? I thought you had more brain cells in that thick head of yours.”

“She needed help… chopping.” Roman’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he pushes himself up from the floor.

I run a hand down my face with a groan, my dick twitching with the memory of exactly what I saw. “Oh, I saw what you were trying to help her with, and that shit can’t happen again.”

As if we need a reminder, Harrison thumps the door a few more times.

“Do I need to explain who that is at the door?”

“Fuck off. I’m not an idiot.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

When it comes down to it, we’re both fucking idiots.

Instead of yelling at Roman to back away from the one girl we’ve marked as off-limits, I stood there like a statue, watching the two of them make goo-goo eyes at each other. Half of me wanted to see him claim her in a kiss that would’ve no doubt left them both breathless. The other half wanted to punch him out of the way and take his place.

Neither option makes any damn sense.

Not only am I not ‌the voyeuristic type—I’ll leave that to Mateo—but I don’t want anything to do with Charlotte. Okay, I shouldn’t want anything to do with Charlotte. Still, having her back in my orbit makes me feel all the things I shouldn’t.

Not when we’re so close to getting to the playoffs and my focus needs to remain on the ice.

“You heard Harrison, we’re going to be late.” Mateo pulls a T-shirt over his head and stops at the entryway to the kitchen. “Get your dicks out of your hands, and let’s go before Coach Finn has all our asses skating laps.”

I point between them, my gaze narrowing. “You two need to figure out who’s telling Harrison, and when, because none of this was my decision.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re too innocent either.” Roman points to my pants, his jaw flexing, and he scrubs a hand through his beard. “It’s early days. We’ve got time to figure things out.”

Yeah, early days, and Charlotte’s presence here is already fucking everything up.

Mateo is the first one to the front door, and instead of waiting for all of us to be ready, he flings it open and hovers in the doorway. “Hey, Harry. Sleep well?”

“Not as well as you, it seems.” Harrison looks past him, meeting my eyes and greeting me with a sly smile. “Which one of you assholes burned breakfast?”

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