Page 38 of Pucking Revenge

Maybe he isn’t now, but he was. Before the game, when I bumped into him outside the locker room, he went from almost possessive to aloof in the blink of an eye. I want to know why. “You just seemed…I don’t know, put off by it.”

He shakes his head and blows out a breath, moving into my space. “The last thing I am is put off by the sight of you in my jersey, Pumpkin. It’s just…” He fingers the blue fabric, pulling at the bottom of it. “I’d prefer it if you were wearing it for me.”

Confused, I tilt my head and study his resigned expression. “Who else would I be wearing it for?”

“You said you were wearing it to upset my uncle.”

Ah, that’s what this is about. The worry gnawing at me eases as my stomach does a little flip. “Oh, Brookie baby.”

He glares at me. Apparently he doesn’t like that nickname either.

“I did wear it for you. Because you want to piss your uncle off.” Pressing closer so only he can hear me, I pop up onto my toes and whisper, “This revenge isn’t for me, Brooks. I wouldn’t be doing this if not for you.”

Any feelings I had for Seb dissipated before I found out he was married. The relationship was over the second he tried to tell me who I could be friends with. I don’t need revenge. What I need is for my best friend to be happy. If revenge will do that, then so be it.

“Really?” He watches me from beneath furrowed brows. Though his tone is guarded, he gently cuffs the back of my neck and holds me in place. I’m significantly shorter than my monster of a best friend, but like this, we’re practically nose to nose, like he’s holding me up by my neck. Or maybe he’s just leaning down into my space. It’s hard to tell when all the oxygen has left my brain with his lips this close to my own.

What the hell is happening right now, and why am I licking my lips wishing that I could be licking his instead?

“It’s you and me, Brooks. You’re all that matters.”

His green eyes bounce between mine, as if he’s searching for a lie. He won’t find one. I don’t tell them. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. I don’t do things unless I want to, and I’m honest to a fault.

There isn’t even a hint of sugarcoating going on here. Not when I’m in this state. Right now I’m too consumed with trying to figure out why the hell I’m literally aching for him to press closer.Why I crave his heat and the feel of his hard body against mine.

“You know what’s funny?”

The sound of Hannah’s voice so close sends a jolt of shock through me. Blinking rapidly, I suck in one heady breath, then another, willing my brain to come back online.

Brooks’s grip on the back of my neck eases incrementally, but he remains focused on me for a long moment before finally releasing me and turning to face Hannah. I feel the loss instantly. It’s like the power went out just as the best part of the movie began, and it’s one that I don’t know the name of, so I can’t cue it up again to discover how it ends.

It’s silly that I feel that way, but the panic of it almost claws at me.

“What’s funny, Han?” Brooks grasps my hips and tugs me so I’m standing directly in front of him.

It’s hard to focus on their words when his thumb has slipped just inside the waistband of my jeans. It’s not even moving, and I’m acutely aware of every indent in that damn piece of flesh.I have to focus on each breath in and back out to remain conscious of the conversation.

Hannah shakes her head. “For months, you’ve been getting texts from SL, so I assumed the man you were dating had those initials. But all along, it was Brooks. I never put the pieces together.”

My stomach knots, and I cough out an uncomfortable laugh. “Oh, that is funny.”

“It’s because I was her secret lover,” Brooks says without pause.

Fuck, he’s so good at thinking on his feet. Goalies really do work best under pressure, I guess. But I’m more impressed by the BS he just pulled out of thin air than I am by any of his saves tonight. Quite frankly, it’s tied with the moment he almost knocked Seb out in the middle of the game, and that’s saying something.

Hannah smacks my arm and grins. “Oh my God. You two are so adorable. Seriously, the cutest!”

For a moment, guilt over the lie swamps me. In general, I have little issue with what we’re doing because it makes Brooks happy. But watching as Hannah, a woman I consider a friend, turns practically giddy over our 100-percent fabricated romance sends a streak of unease down my spine.

And yet…as I burn up beneath my best friend’s thumb like this, I’m not sure I’ve felt more right in a long, long time.

“You guys want to play pool?” Hannah tips her head at the group behind us.

The Halls are here. They’ve settled in with Beckett and Gavin. Liv is stationed on a bar chair with a water in her hand. Beckett is hovering beside her, as if he’s protecting her from the crush of a mosh pit rather than the two dozen chill patrons in the not so crowded bar.

I nudge Brooks and nod in their direction so he can see what I’m seeing. His brother really can be so damn adorable when it comes to Liv. I can’t wait to see how much more aggressive that protectiveness becomes as her pregnancy progresses.

Brooks nudges me back gently. “Maybe in a bit. My body is kinda beat from the game. I might sit for a minute, but you should go play.”

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