Page 42 of Pucking Revenge

After another block or so, she speaks again. “So, what can we do to push your uncle over the edge?”

My brain is a jumbled mess of terrible ideas. Kissing her in the middle of the packed arena. Fucking her so he can hear us. They are neighbors, after all. They share a wall and everything. I mean, really, what will it take for him to disappear? Should I propose?

Sara interrupts my crazy. “Come over for dinner tomorrow. He’s right next door. We can play board games or have a karaoke competition. We both know how loud my singing gets. He’ll definitely know we’re hanging out.”

Right. Because those are normal ideas. Unlike mine. What kind of sane person comes up with things like fucking my best friend against the wall until I make her scream so loud my asshole uncle knows precisely who she’s with?

I clear my throat and nod. “That works.”

Once Sara is safely inside her apartment, I head back to the elevator, glaring at my uncle’s door as I go. I hate that his apartment is right next to hers. It used to be one more reason I looked up to the man. His choice to live here with his players during the season.

The building is beautiful, but the units are all relatively small. He could easily afford a condo or a brownstone like Beckett’s, yet an apartment here was good enough for him. I thought that was another thing the two of us had in common. Nice things are great, but I’m a simple guy. I don’t need a penthouse like Gavin’s. My love of the game and a healthy respect for the people in my life are what I’ve always strived for. Coach taught me that. It’s the image he always portrayed and the one I’ve worked my whole life to emulate.

Now I see his reasoning in a new light. Did he choose to stay in this building because it made it convenient to cheat on my aunt? They own a gorgeous house on the water in Florida, and that’s where Zoe lives year-round. Seb stays there often during the offseason and travels to visit her between games the rest of the year. I thought it showed dedication. To her and the team. Now I know better, and it only makes me hate him even more.

Part of me wants to move out of the building tonight. Leave all the memories behind. But that would be giving in. Giving up. And I don’t give up. Never have.

I’ve spent my life being expected to remain steady under the toughest conditions on the ice. I’ve perfected the ability to stay focused under any kind of pressure. If anyone has trained for the next few months, it’s me.

When my key turns in the lock too easily, I frown down at the doorknob. Why is my door unlocked? I’m meticulous in a lot of my routines, and I wouldn’t give Sara a hard time about always leaving her door open if I was in the habit of doing the same.

With a sigh, I push the door open. I can’t say I’m surprised when I find all the lights on and my younger brother bent over in front of my fridge.

“Don’t you live somewhere else?”

Aiden jumps, smacking the back of his head inside the open fridge. “You scared the shit out of me.” He rubs at his head and turns on me with a scowl.

I drop my bag beside the door and toe off my shoes. “Excuse me for scaring you in my own damn apartment. Why the hell are you here? You didn’t even come out for drinks after the game.”

If I had to label one of my teammates as the stereotypical partier, it would be Aiden. He’s always the fun one. The good time. Yet tonight, he skipped out on celebrating a win over New York, a win he definitely deserved praise for. And that makes zero sense.

He leans against the kitchen counter and takes a long swig of the beer he pulled from the fridge. It’s from a six-pack of a special malted brew I bought at a local brewery Sara and I had dinner at a few weeks ago. I grab one for myself and settle against the counter opposite him, then stare him down, waiting for an explanation.

“Jill and I got into a stupid fight. I rushed home after the game to talk to her, but she’d locked me out.”

I cross my free arm over my chest and tuck my hand under the opposite bicep, then take a pull off my beer. “It’s your apartment. Don’t you have a key?”

“She dead-bolted it.”

I hide my laughter with another swig. “Musta been a doozy of a fight.”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “That’s just it. I don’t even know what she’s mad about.”

Lose the girl. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but a comment like that will only add salt to his wounds. Aiden must see something in his girlfriend that the rest of us don’t, because from where I’m standing, she’s nothing but toxic.

“You can sleep on the couch.” I tap my beer against his, then wander toward my room. Now that I’m home, my exhaustion has hit like a freight train.

“Can’t you go stay at your girlfriend’s? Then I can sleep in your bed.”

My steps falter as I hit my bedroom door. The image of waking up with Sara has me smiling. That image quickly morphs into a memory, and I have to hold back a laugh. I did wake up with her yesterday. And then she acted like a complete psychopath. After that incident and the way she latched on to my thumb at the bar, I’m beginning to realize that’s her thing. She acts like a lunatic when she’s off-kilter. And she’s obsessed with my cock.

“No.” I leave it at that. I don’t have the mental energy to come up with an excuse as to why I won’t rush upstairs and sleep in Sara’s bed. I close the bedroom door, muting his whining, and chuckle.

Fucking Aiden.

THE HOCKEY REPORT

“Good Morning, Boston. Eliza here, with my co-host, Colton, ready to bring you the Hockey Report.”

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