Page 38 of My Brother's Teammates

My heart is pounding in my ears, drowning out every rational thought, every alarm bell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Then why did you?” she whispers, the words hanging heavy between us.

That’s the million-dollar question.

“I can’t fight you anymore.” I close my eyes, soaking in her lemon scent, letting myself relax, even if it’s just for a moment. “Please let me do this. Let us be there for you.”

“Jace.” Her voice cracks and her eyes swim with unshed tears. “Nothing has changed between us. I can’t forget the past. You say you don’t hate me, but your actions are a direct contradiction.”

I take a deep breath, dropping a few of my walls, the bullshit pretenses I have in place to protect myself. I’ve spent so many years trying to keep her from worming her way into my heart, but in truth, she’s been there the whole time. I don’t need to let her know how I feel, but I can at least give her something. “I want you to hate me like I hate myself. It would make things so much easier. You’re not the problem, Charlotte.”

Her eyes widen, her gaze flitting between mine and my lips. My lips that are getting closer and closer to hers. I’m walking a fine line between safety and total annihilation, but I can’t stop myself from taking another step closer to hell.

Closer to the heaven that is Charlotte.

I’m so close I can almost taste her, and there’s no way in hell I can back away without knowing if she tastes as good as I remember. It would only take the barest movement, the slightest brush of my lips across hers.

“The appetizers just got dropped off. Figure you two might want to come back before the food is gone.” The sound of Harrison’s voice, of his hardened tone, has me jumping back.

Charlotte murmurs a quick thanks and slips around us, no doubt to flee to safety.

What the hell was I doing? What was I thinking? I fucking wasn’t, that’s for damn sure.

This is why I can’t get close to her. I lose myself, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to lose Harrison. Our chance to get in the playoffs. The Cup. Fucking everything.

“Care to explain yourself, Theriot?” Harrison takes a step toward me, his eyes flashing with anger, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Are you fucking my sister?”

“It’s not what you think.” Oh, yeah, that sounds believable. “There’s nothing going on between your sister and me.”

Another lie to add to the pile of deception. I can only hope he’ll forgive me after all this.

“Sure didn’t look like nothing, Theriot. Looked like you were about to jam your tongue down her throat.”

“I promise, Harrison, I wouldn’t do something like that behind your back.” The dishonesty tastes bitter, and I struggle to swallow it down.

He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “You mean you wouldn’t do something like that at all. If I find out something different, I won’t hesitate to knock that scowl straight off your face. My sister is not a bunny, Jace, and I will not have her treated like one. She’s off-limits. I’d hate to lose a brother over a quick fuck.”

I am better than this. I’m the one in control of myself, of my emotions. I’m the one who can handle anything and everything. Harrison’s sister seems to be the only person who can worm herself under my skin and make me want to break every single promise I’ve ever made.

And it can’t happen again.

SIXTEEN

Roman

It’s no surprise that I find Charlotte out on the balcony Wednesday morning—the morning after the incident at the restaurant. Talk about what a fucking shit show that dinner was. For a minute there, I thought we’d be the next viral video all over social media.

The rage poured off Harrison in tangible waves, and when he and Jace got back from checking on Charlotte, it was even more awkward at the table instead of less—something I didn’t think was possible. We ate in the most uncomfortable silence I’ve ever had the misfortune of being surrounded by. And when anyone had the balls to actually speak, it was stilted, formal, and received glare after glare from Harrison.

He was pissed, angrier than I’ve ever seen, and I play hockey with the guy.

He’s onto us. He must be. Or at least Jace.

Not sure what happened between him and our redheaded houseguest when he went to apologize, but Harrison ground down a few of his molars while eating his blue-cheese-smothered, still-mooing steak.

A shiver snakes up my spine as a flare of jealousy spikes deep in my chest. Did Jace kiss her? That would explain why Harrison was so fucking pissed. But would he really break the most important rule he himself imposed on all of us when she moved in?

Would she let him?

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