Page 51 of Pucking Revenge

Me: We’re dating.

War: So that’s why coach was pissed?

Me: I’m handling it.

War: We have a game tomorrow. You need to lock that shit down before then. You know I love Sara, but this is your career.

My stomach sinks. Dammit.

Outside my brothers, War is my best friend. We went to college together and roomed together while we played in the NCAA. After two years, we were both called up to the NHL. We’ve been playing hockey together for over twelve years. Other than Aiden, there isn’t a soul in the world who understands quite how much this game means to me.

If I could tell him the truth, he’d be devastated over my uncle’s betrayal, just like I was. He respects him as much as I used to. Looks up to him. While he probably deserves to know what’s going on, not only with Coach, but with me, Sara deserves her privacy more. She’s putting her ass on the line for me, and she’s mortified, because even though Seb lied to her, she was still the other woman.

And if the guys found out, they’d look at her differently. And then she’d probably start looking for another job. If she did that, I’d lose her. And I can’t lose her.

I don’t know how the fuck to respond to War, so I don’t. He doesn’t text again, thank fuck. He knows me well enough not to push it.

“C’mere.”

Sara’s soft voice startles me again. It’s becoming a habit, getting lost in thoughts of her.

She’s standing before me, Neosporin in hand. Still in my head, I let her take the lead.

“Lennox is coming to the game tomorrow. I kind of want to sit with her. Think Gavin would mind?”

I clear my throat and pull back so I can check on the chicken. It’s crisping up nicely, and this time I concentrate on my movements when I turn it over to keep the oil from splashing.

“Not a problem. We have family seats too, if you’d rather sit there.”

She ducks her head and blushes. “Yeah, I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“Why? You’re my girlfriend.”

Her eyes go wide then, so I rush on, hoping to smooth things over.

“At least to everyone else.”

“Yeah, but your mom sits there. I don’t—” She shakes her head and looks away from me. “I’d rather sit near the team. That way I can still do my job. I just thought I could have Lennox there too.”

“Whatever you prefer. Are you, uh…” My face goes hot, but I push through and ask the question. “Are you going to wear my jersey again?” This time I’m the one who looks away. I take the opportunity to slice into the cucumber I plan to add to the salad.

“If that’s okay with you. I could wear Aiden’s number if you’d prefer.”

Instinctively, I clutch the knife handle and squeeze. It slips when I press down a little too violently on the cucumber.

Sara lets out a light laugh beside me. “Jeez, you’re too easy to rile up.” She pokes me in the side, then holds out a hand, silently urging me to give her the knife. When I do, she bumps me out of the way with a hip and takes over. “Who knew Saint Brooks had a jealous streak? If I wore Aiden’s number, at least it would still be your last name on my back.”

I blow out a breath and fold my arms across my chest, watching the smooth way she slices the cucumber into chunks. “The only number you’ll wear is mine, understood?”

She peers over at me, batting her lashes dramatically. “Perfectly. Now, instead of worrying about which number will be emblazoned above my ass, how about you focus on those noodles? They’re boiling over.”

In the next instant, the telltale hiss of water dripping down the sides of the pot and onto the burner fills the kitchen. With a grunt, I spin and simultaneously turn down the heat and lift the lid off the pot.

I’m back to impersonating grumpy Beckett, but Sara is still laughing at my jealousy.

She’s right to laugh. I’ve never been a jealous man. Especially when it comes to my brothers. But Sara is the exception. For everything. And she’s the one person I won’t share.

“We’re playing in North Carolina next month. You going to visit your family while we’re there?”

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