Page 33 of My Brother's Teammates

“Drinks at Blades & Brews later?” Harrison skates back a few paces, making a drinking motion with his hand.

I guess there’s no better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else. “Count me in.”

FOURTEEN

Charlotte

The heavily buttered roll is already halfway to my mouth when Mateo, Roman, Jace, and Harrison stroll into the restaurant.

When Mateo texted to suggest we grab a bite after practice, I can say with absolute certainty I didn’t think he meant everybody. Silly me, I must’ve read too much into our interaction yesterday. When he asked me about food, I instantly thought it was a date. How stupid of me. Of course this super-sexy hockey player wouldn’t want to go on a date with me when he could have his pick of any woman in Louisiana.

It’s too bad getting scowled at by Jace isn’t on my bingo card for tonight—neither is getting my head bitten off by my brother if he finds out I’ve been fired. Or that I’m living with his best friends in secret. Or crushing on at least one of them.

Shit.

I drop the roll, acutely aware of the rolls on my belly as three carved-by-God-himself statues—and Harrison—search the room while they wait for the hostess. Do they all know I’m here? Or just Mateo?

I’d wipe my suddenly sweaty hands on my thighs, but I’m wearing my favorite little black dress, and if I get butter stains on it, I’ll cry my fucking eyes out. I can’t tell Harrison that I’m all dressed up for dinner with Mateo and maybe Roman—Teo said he’d ask Roman to join us at practice—so that’s another lie added to the leaning tower of secrets growing between my big brother and me. It’s like a terrible game of Jenga, blocks of truth being taken away, leaving a rickety pile of lies and deceit ready to come crashing down at any moment.

Double shit.

And of course, they all look great. Roman’s wearing light-blue jeans and a long-sleeved Henley. Mateo’s wearing dress pants and a black shirt with the top couple buttons open, dressed like he’s going on a date, and showing just enough of his chest to make my mouth water. But it’s Jace who has most of my attention. He’s in darker jeans than Roman, a plain black T-shirt that’s stretched across his broad chest and shoulders like it was painted on him, and he’s got a black leather jacket completing the bad boy look.

My breath catches, and my ovaries may have exploded on the spot.

Fuck, he’s stunning. The way the fabric pulls across his pecs is just… Jesus Christ, it should be illegal to be that hot.

There’s no way I can sit through dinner with them like a normal person.

Harrison spies me first, his eyebrows jumping when he catches me staring—hopefully I wasn’t drooling. He doesn’t need to know that I was openly ogling the three men he’s standing with.

Hell, I almost swallowed my tongue when they walked in.

Harrison elbows Jace and gestures in my direction. When Jace’s eyes meet mine, he scowls before his gaze drops to my cleavage. He spends an extra-long moment watching my boobs. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. Considering he’s glaring at me like he wishes he had laser beams ready to shoot from his eyeballs, I’m probably seeing things that aren’t there.

You know, like how I thought this might be a date.

My tits do look fantastic in this dress though, so I arch my back just a little, popping them out as I do. How do you like me now, Jace?

Harrison says something that draws Mateo and Roman’s attention to me, and I sit up straight as both men take me in. Roman’s face darkens, and now he’s scowling too. I didn’t expect only one out of four to be happy to see me, but Mateo’s blinding grin almost makes up for the fact he seems to be the only one not annoyed by my existence.

Almost.

What’s Roman’s deal? Last time I saw him, we were good. Right? What changed?

I swallow hard, tossing a casual wave as they make their way toward the table before squaring my shoulders. I’m not sure what to expect from this encounter, but I’m going to pretend I’m ready for everything. I’m prepared to fake it till I make it.

“What are you doing here?” Harrison grins, gesturing to the chair across from me. “Hot date?”

“Of course, dear brother. I got dumped and agreed to go on a date with the first man who asked me. Can’t you tell? Don’t be rude, say hello. His name is Casper the Friendly Ghost.” I plaster on a fake smile and gesture at the place setting directly across from me.

“You got stood up?” His voice drops, the overprotectiveness kicking in. And the assumption that I’m not just waiting for someone, but that someone hasn’t shown up. Oh, dear Harry, if only you knew.

Nailing Mateo with a long, hard look, I nod at Harry. “Yup. Stood up. Such a shame.” I gesture at the empty seats with the buttered roll before taking a healthy bite. “Feel free to join me.” The round table I’m sitting at isn’t big enough for four NHL-sized giants and me, but knowing my brother, he’d rather squeeze around this table than leave me here alone. Although I suppose there are worse things I can think of than being the filling in a Mateo and Roman sandwich.

Mateo doesn’t wait for me to ask again. He’s already halfway into the chair next to me, giving my knee what’s probably an apologetic squeeze under the table.

“It’s okay. We can eat over there.” Jace points at an empty table a few feet away. “We might be a little too crowded here.”

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