Page 25 of Pucking Revenge

“Okay, call me as soon as you get home so we can plot his murder.”

Leaning over the vanity, I use the damp paper towel to blot at the skin under my eyes. “You mean my job search.”

“No. I said what I said.”

I laugh. “I love you.”

“Love you too, babe. Remember: you did nothing wrong. You walk out of there with your head held high. We’ve got this.”

I hang up feeling decidedly like I don’t have this at all. With no other option but to face the Langfields, I toss the paper towel, determined to get this over with. But when I open the door and find Sebastian standing on the other side, blue eyes cold and angry, I wish I’d just stayed inside.

EIGHT

BROOKS

I adore my sister, I really do, and because I rarely see her, I tend to hang on her every word. But tonight, I’m not paying attention to a damn thing she’s saying. My focus is fixed solely on my best friend, whose got my head all sorts of fucked up. She disappeared in a rush and has been gone for too long, likely because I had to go and make things weird today.

Her comments about my status as Boston’s good boy—that because I’m a gentleman, I wouldn’t know what to do in the bedroom—hit a nerve.

Even if that insinuation isn’t totally off.

But I took it too far. Did I really tell Sara that if she ever heard me come, she’d be the one saying thank you?

My stomach sinks. Because yeah, I did.

What the fuck was I thinking?

The moment I pulled her close to introduce her to my aunt, she went rigid. I did that. I made an inappropriate comment, and in turn, I made my best friend uncomfortable with my touch. All because I have a goddamn crush that I can’t get over.

I have to fix it. Not that I know how, but I can’t handle knowing that my actions have caused her discomfort.

With my sister and aunt distracted by a story Aiden is telling, I head toward the back of the restaurant so I can find Sara and apologize.

When I step into the hallway and find Coach crowding her, his face a mask of anger and his chest puffed up like he’s doing his best to intimidate her, another emotion takes over.

Rage bubbles up, instantly threatening to spew out of me.

After our conversation at practice and the subsequent push-ups, I had no doubt that he’d be pissed when I showed up with her tonight. Maybe I should have told him she was coming, but honestly, we’re just friends. She can’t be my girlfriend, I get that, but I can damn well be her friend.

If he’s laying into her now, telling her to stay away from me, I’m going to lose it.He has no business saying anything to her. If he’s got an issue, then he and I can deal with it.

I move closer, ready to step between them and take the brunt of his anger.

With the way he’s crowding her personal space, neither of them notices my presence.

He’s looking down his nose at her, wearing a haughty sneer. As I take another step, I fist my hands at my sides, willing myself to keep my anger at bay. My blood boils.

My uncle’s tone is pompous. “So this is about Brooks?”

At the sound of my name, my heart lurches.

Sara scoffs and tips her chin up. Despite his stance, she doesn’t cower. “It’s certainly not about you. You made it clear this morning that we would always be a dirty little secret. Now I know why. So no, I don’t care who you do or don’t sleep with.”

My heart officially stops when her words register.

Sara said ‘we’. They’re a ‘we’? Sara and my uncle? No way. He wouldn’t do that to my aunt. To me. He’s Uncle Seb. The best man I know. The man who made me who I am today.

“She’s my wife,” he grits out.

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