Page 5 of My Brother's Teammates

Charlotte fucking Fournier. Perfect in every way, from her wild red curls to her multicolored toenails. She’s the one I always wanted, but after an incident that resulted in my swift rejection, she’s always been the one I could never have. And now I live hockey. Doesn’t matter what I want, I don’t have time for anything else.

Plus, Harrison wouldn’t be too happy with me getting anywhere near his one and only baby sister.

Shane, on the other hand, is a waste of space. She could do better. He was always sniffing around her brother, begging us to come on his struggling podcast.

The guy knows dick about hockey and hasn’t played a sport a day in his life, yet he has a sports podcast he records from the corner of his bedroom. He thought having Harrison in his back pocket would make him big money.

He didn’t plan on Harrison and the rest of us dodging every request to make a guest appearance. Guess Charlotte wasn’t going to bring him the fame and fortune he wanted, so he moved on.

What a fucking moron.

Maybe he’d have better luck on the podcast if he found himself a personality and some common sense.

I blow out a breath and run a hand through my hair before grabbing my bag, but instead of going to my room, I open Roman’s door and linger in the doorway.

He’s lying face down on his light gray duvet, his bags already empty in the corner of the room. Not only is he the well-mannered one, but his room is always immaculate; something about needing his space Zen or it messes with his gameplay. Fucking goalies. Hockey players are notoriously superstitious, but goalies are the worst, and Roman is no exception.

“You can come in—and stop judging me,” he mumbles, rolling over and pushing himself up to sit.

“I’m not judging you. I’m shocked you would even think such a thing,” I scoff, dropping my bag outside the door and sitting down on the other side of his bed.

“I know you.”

“Rude.”

“I saw Harrison’s sister naked,” Roman groans into his palms.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“Do you think we need to tell him?”

My brows raise as I study him to see if he’s joking. Sadly, he’s dead serious. “That’s the last thing we need to do. We just need to make sure she gets the hell out of here, and we’ll never speak of this again.”

Roman opens his mouth to respond, but he stops as Mateo strolls into the room, tucking his wavy blond hair behind his ears and jumping in the middle of the bed. He sighs and flings his arms out, slapping my leg as he goes full starfish. “We should let her stay until she can get her own place. She clearly has nowhere else to go or she wouldn’t have come here. Did you see her ass? Damn, I’d like to sink my teeth into that thing.”

“That’s Harrison’s sister, dick.” I push his hand away with a grunt. “And no, we’re not letting her stay here. She needs to go. Immediately.”

Mateo rolls on his side so he’s facing me, props his head on his hand, and bats his lashes at me like I’m one of his many conquests. Too bad for him that shit doesn’t work on me. “Where’s she going to go? Harrison doesn’t have any extra room in that new place of his, plus his girl’s a bitch. We have the room. And she cleans. We all know how this guy feels about hiring a housekeeper.” He hikes a thumb over his shoulder, pointing it at Roman, who rolls his eyes. “It’s perfect.”

“I fail to see how it’s perfect.” I fail to see much of anything now that I’ve seen Charlotte’s naked body. It’s like she’s put me under some magic spell, and all I can think about are her perfectly pink lips, the lush curve of her hips… and burying my head between her thick thighs until she screams.

Which is why she needs to go.

Quickly.

“That’s because you’re an asshole. With Harrison moved out, we’re down a cook, and we all know you and I can’t cook for shit.”

“It’s not a terrible idea.” Roman runs a hand along his neatly trimmed beard as he stares intently at a blank spot on the wall. “And she could watch the place while we’re gone for games.”

I jump up and pace the length of the room, my hands clenching and flexing with each step. “We never needed someone to watch the place before. This is a terrible idea. No, a horrendous idea. I’m talking about the worst idea in existence. Roman, I can’t believe you’re supporting his shenanigans! Don’t cry to me when Harrison puts your asses in the hospital.”

“So no one sleeps with her,” Roman shrugs, his voice so damn casual, like it’s not a big deal. “She’s a grown-ass woman, and if she wants to stay here, I don’t have a problem with it.”

Mateo groans. “Fine. I won’t try to sleep with her. Does that make you happy, Mr. Grouch?”

“No,” I grit out, piercing him with a hardened look. It won’t make Harrison happy either. He knows what we’re like—especially after he walked in on Roman and me sharing a girl a time or two. Or four. It’s not like he never joined us. It’s been a while though. Hell, it’s been a while since I’ve slept with anyone at all.

Maybe that’s my problem.

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