I’m hoping it was just me being there that made it tense, and once they’re back together as a group, it’ll be better. Because it doesn’t feel like it could get much worse.
Apparently, Harrison’s answer to a superbly failed attempt at dinner together is to go to his house to hang with another man. Of course. That makes sense.
I’ve seen his friend’s picture on Harrison’s social media. And while Alec’s hot—in a nerdy kind of way—he’s not really my type, which, I think, might be Harrison’s plan with this whole blind date tonight—bringing me together with someone who isn’t athletic, broad-shouldered, or playing on the same team as him. Or any team, for that matter.
Alec is tall, skinny, and doesn’t play hockey. How the hell he’s never been to a game when he’s friends with my brother is anyone’s guess.
I didn’t tell the boys that Harrison also got us tickets for tomorrow’s game. I don’t need them sending us dagger-stares from the ice, or the bench. It’s best for everyone if they don’t know we’re there.
It says a lot about Alec’s character, too, that Harrison thinks he can handle me screaming at the refs during a hockey game and not be at all deterred.
Credit to Harry where credit is due, he wouldn’t send me out to a hockey game with just anyone.
We’ll see how tonight goes before I make any commitments to a follow-up, but I’m pretty sure Harry will strong-arm me into taking Alec to the game.
My phone vibrates in my purse. It’s Harrison, texting to say Alec is almost here and to hurry up. I guess I have been standing out here for an awfully long time like some kind of bunny stalker, but I’m not ready. I need to be ready, or Harry will take one look at me and know.
An early bird. I like that, though it makes my stomach flip. I really don’t want to be here. I’d much rather be upstairs with the guys, crowded around a pizza box. Sure, my body would be on fire from the close proximity to them, and sure, I’d want to take all my clothes off and do something stupid, but I want it all the same.
Another point to Alec, though. Despite being a hot mess, punctuality is a straight-up fetish of mine. Tardiness makes me murderous. There are only so many hours in a day, and I don’t have time to sit on my ass waiting for people. Harrison knows that too. Dammit. He’s like an interfering granny trying to matchmake me. He knows me best, and probably knows Alec best too.
Instead of opening the door, I lean my head against it and take some cleansing breaths, preparing myself for the fact I’m spending the night with my brother when I’d much rather spend the night with his teammates.
When he happened upon Jace and I at the restaurant the other night, he had a look in his eyes… a look that said over his dead body would Jace be allowed to look at me like that again. Hence the rush to set me up with someone new, I’d bet.
Part of me would love nothing more than to be able to walk through this door, throw myself at Alec, be happy and all the way away from my brother’s teammates, for the sake of their friendships with Harrison… and my relationship with him, too. It would be so much simpler.
But I can’t.
I can’t forget the heart-aching tenderness that Roman kissed me with, or the way Mateo’s lips against mine drew a deep hunger from inside me, or how Jace’s feral need possessed every cell in my body.
I think they’ve ruined me for anyone else.
I’m technically single as a Pringle, so kissing multiple guys is no big deal. But kissing best friends… that adds even more complexity I’m not ready to pick apart. Did I like one of them more than the other two?
Maybe.
I might need to kiss them all again before I can answer that question.
Is having them all together an option?
Maybe.
We haven’t really talked it through.
The quantity of men isn’t the problem for me, it’s the shitshow of a spider’s web we’ve found ourselves in with my brother.
A shiver rolls through me as a pained groan slips from my lips.
My heart stops, and for a moment I think no one heard, until the door I’m leaning on swings open to reveal my brother.
“You know you can’t open doors with just the power of your mind, right?” Harrison grins at me. The tension and awkwardness of the other night is gone, and my playful, annoying older brother is back.
“You always tell me I can do anything.” I throw my arms around him, sinking into his bear-hug. “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”
He playfully cuffs his fist against my jaw. “You’re right. You can do anything you put your mind to, Peanut.”
My stomach drops. His faith in me is unwavering, but his expectations are always set so damn high. Letting him down is the worst. I hate it. And the higher he builds me up, the greater the fall when I inevitably fuck up.