Page 43 of Pucking Revenge

“Thank you, Eliza. Not so sure it’s a good morning for everyone in Boston, though.”

Eliza hums. “Yes, while our Boston Bolts pulled out a win last night, it was an ugly one.”

“And you aren’t just referring to the game,” Colton interjects.

“Nope. I think we’re all more interested in what was going on off the ice than on it. There’s a video trending this morning that shows a skirmish between Coach Lukov and Boston’s favorite goalie, Saint Brooks, who didn’t appear very saintlike.”

“No, Eliza, he did not. In fact, it appears he shoved Coach Lukov. It isn’t clear why or what was said, and he wasn’t benched for it.”

“You don’t bench Brooks Langfield,” Eliza deadpans.

“If he was in the wrong, any coach would be well within his rights to bench him. Though if Coach Lukov was in the wrong, that could explain why Brooks continued to play. We can only hope to get more insight into the reason behind the spat between uncle and nephew.”

“That’s the problem with working with family, Colton.”

“She’s my sister, ladies and gentlemen. She’s teasing. She loves working with me.”

“Sometimes,” Eliza jests.

FIFTEEN

BROOKS

“Dude. You couldn’t even bother to wait for me?” Aiden pulls up beside me, panting like he had to run to catch up to me.

War strolls in behind him, hands casually stuffed in his pockets and an easy expression on his face.

Tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear, Ava sighs and consults her clipboard as she steps closer. “Now that everyone is here,” she says, pointedly looking at War, “the goal is to get these babies adopted. Word that you’re here working the adoption event has been all over social media, so there will be a long line of people. Most of them will show up for a chance to meet you, so try to focus on the animals. The only people allowed in the building will be those who have filled out an application to adopt, so that should help keep things moving smoothly.” She taps her pen against her lip and bites down on it, surveying us. “Marginally, at least. Aiden,” she says, pointing her pen at my brother, “you’re with McGreevey. Parker, you’re with Warren, and that leaves you with me, Brooks.”

I head her way but pull up short when McGreevey whines. Our team captain earned his status and then some. He’s not a whiner. Yet when I turn to him, his face is puckered and he’s backing away from my brother.

“No fucking way am I dealing with this one. Why the fuck do you smell so bad?”

A rumbling laugh works its way out of me and echoes around the mostly empty space.

“Because,” Aiden groans, pointing at me, “that one locked me out of his bedroom.”

“You have your own apartment.” I scoff. “And if I’d left my door open, then you would have gone through my shit and taken one of my shirts.”

When we were kids, Aiden was notorious for stealing my clothes. I still don’t understand why. I’ve always been at least a couple of sizes bigger than him.

“Don’t know the story behind why you’re staying at Brooks’s place, and I don’t want to,” McGreevey mutters. “Brooks, he’s related to you. That makes him your problem. Parker, you’re with me.”

The two married men are always pairing up. Not that I blame them. If I had someone waiting for me at home, I’d ditch the single guys too.

Heck, I do it more often than not anyway so I can hang with Sara.

“Who the fuck am I with, then?” War grumbles.

Ava lets out another aggravated sigh. “Me, apparently. Just—don’t talk, and maybe we’ll make it through the day.”

I have to hold back a laugh at the sass coming from the normally sweet woman.

War, on the other hand, drops his head, lets out a string of curses, and follows behind her.

Aiden steps closer, and his rancid scent envelops me.

I throw an arm over my nose and mouth to keep myself from passing out and shoot him a glare. “Did you not shower after the game last night? You fucking reek. I’m going to have to have my couch power washed.”

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