Page 117 of Pucking Revenge

With a nod and a small smile, she leans out into the hall. “Ethan, time for lunch.” She shuffles to the fridge and pulls out a jug of lemonade, then returns to the table. “I’ll probably have to call him four more times before he’ll really hear me. He gets so lost in the game.”

As we’re plating the food a minute or two later, Brooks and Ethan appear. Of course this perfect man would turn off the game the moment he’s beckoned.

“This looks great,” he says, gripping my waist.

“You have a lot of work to do tonight, so eat up.” My mother motions for us to sit.

Brooks pulls out my chair and waits until I’m seated before pushing it closer to the table. Then he presses a kiss to the top of my head and settles beside me. He places his napkin on his lap, and with one hand wrapped around mine, he uses his fork to cut into his chicken with the other, as if he can’t possibly let me go.

It’s adorable.

“What’s it feel like out on the ice?” Ethan asks, his tone wistful and a little sad.

“Feel like?” Brooks scans the room for a moment, really considering the question. “It’s a lot like what I think flying feels like. If you close your eyes while you’re gliding.”

Ethan closes his eyes, almost as if he’s visualizing it, and Brooks squeezes my hand.

My little brother opens them again, picks up his fork, and gives Brooks a small smile. “Cool.”

“So, Brooks,” my mother says, “tell us about your family.”

Lennox: Did you ever leave the bathroom or should I summon your mother to come get you?

Me: Haha, you are so funny. We’re at the game now.

Lennox: Aw. How did Saint Brooks do when he met the family? I’m sure your mother loved him. He’s got a face a mother would love.

Me: He’s got a face everyone would love. Literally. He was the Bachelor of Hockey for Sports Illustrated last year.

Lennox: And now he’s all yours. Smoochie face.

Me: You know they have emojis for that, right? You don’t actually have to write out the word.

Lennox: Crying laughing you’re so funny.

Me: see? There’s one for that too.

Lennox: Go watch your boyfriend. I heard he’s pretty good on skates.

Me: Ha. Love you bye.

Lennox: Love YOU!

“Brooks really went all out, didn’t he?” my mother says, tugging on her blue Bolts toque. She’s also wearing a brand-new jersey.

My brother is decked out in a jersey emblazoned with the number 13 as well. He’s beaming so brightly I swear there’s a spotlight set on him. We’re standing behind the plexiglass, watching the guys warm up. His eyes are huge, and he hasn’t stopped bouncing since we stepped foot in the arena.

“Do you see the Leprechaun, Sar?” He tugs on my shirt and points at Aiden.

With a laugh, I wave at Aiden. He flashes me a grin and waves back, officially making my brother believe I’m the coolest girl he’s ever met.

“I can’t believe they all know you,” he says, his tone filled with awe.

I muss his hair. “I am the coolest.”

He shrugs me off and points to Brooks. “Look, he’s skating toward us.”

He sure is, and I can’t contain the smile that takes over as I watch him approach. I’m fan-girling just as badly as Ethan is. No matter how many times I see Brooks play hockey, I’m enamored by him. Captivated. That extends to his every move off the ice too. Though when he’s in this setting, his cockier side comes out, and damn, is it hot.

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