His hair is wet and shiny like he’s come straight from practice. My fingers itch to run through the long strands. My eyes drop to his mouth. Gah…those lips. I’ve never met a man who knows how to use his lips the way he does. They’re sinful.
It’s only then that I notice how tightly clenched his jaw is. As if he’s pissed off about something. More often than not, Brody is laughing and joking around. There’s usually a perpetual smile curving his lips upward. Sometimes it’s more of a smirk. It used to get on my nerves. Now it makes my tummy tremble.
This time, there’s no smile in sight.
His whiskey-colored eyes normally dance with mischief. Unless they’re smoldering with heat. But neither of those emotions are present. Instead, they flash with barely-suppressed anger.
Unease prickles at the bottom of my gut. “What’s wrong?” I swing the door wide, allowing him inside. Zara isn’t home, so we have the place to ourselves.
His body vibrates with pent-up agitation as he stalks past me into the living room. Closing the door, I silently pad after him. For just a moment, he stands in front of the window overlooking the street before dragging a hand over his face.
“I’m sorry to just show up like this.” His shoulders are hunched. There’s a closed-off look about him. One that tells me to keep my distance.
“It’s fine.” Unsure what to do, I stay frozen in place. Something is coming, I’m just not sure what. Unconsciously, I hold my breath and wait.
“I was kicked out of practice today,” he mutters.
“What?” Out of all the things I was expecting to hear, that wasn’t one of them. Shock floods through me, and my eyes widen. Hockey means everything to Brody. I can’t imagine what could have happened to cause him to reach a breaking point.
His eyes fasten onto mine before he pulls them away. Heaving out a breath, he says, “I threw a punch.”
My head swims with confusion. “Why would you do that?” That kind of behavior doesn’t sound like the Brody I’ve gotten to know over the past month. My opinion of him has done a complete one-eighty.
His eyes become hooded. “It doesn’t matter.”
Ahhh. There’s only one person who could cause this kind of havoc.
I force the question through stiff lips, “Does Reed have something to do with this?”
Brody jerking his shoulders into a tight shrug is answer enough.
Why is Reed so intent on causing problems for me?
Needing to understand what happened, I push for answers. “What did he say?”
Brody’s expression turns stubborn. He closes the distance between us with four long strides. Reaching out, he sinks a hand into my hair. His thumb gently strokes over my cheek. I’m tempted to close my eyes and lean into his touch, but I don’t.
“It’s nothing worth repeating,” he bites out.
My shoulders fall. Whatever happened between them is my fault. And I hate that. “I’m sorry.”
His demeanor softens. I hadn’t realized just how rigidly he’d been holding himself until his entire body loosens. With his hand still in my hair, he pulls me against him. Once his arms are wrapped protectively around me, he drops a kiss on the top of my head.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs. “The guy is an asshole.”
I rest my head against his chest and squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t want to cause problems between you two.”
He chuckles, but it’s tinged with aggravation. “Collins and I have always had problems. That started way before you came into the picture.”
“How much trouble are you in with your coach?” The thought of it makes me sick.
“Other than getting my ass chewed out, it’s fine. I don’t want you to worry. There’s nothing to be concerned about.” He rubs light circles against my back as if I’m the one who needs to be consoled, which is ludicrous. His arms tighten around me, and I burrow into their comforting strength.
“Just do me a favor and stay away from Reed, okay?” Brody says.
I tilt my head until I can meet his eyes. Concern swims around within their golden depths. “I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“Good.” Again, he relaxes. “Keep it that way."