Page 36 of Hart Breaker

“You’re gonna make one hell of a girl Dad, Hart.” He winks as he walks out of my room.

I turn and glare at Jillian. “Remind me never to pick you to be on my team for theapocalypse.”

“Oh please.” She turns her phone to me show me her screen and a text she sent …

“You told Mom and Marks!” I yell.

“Pfft, you really think I’m up in here, putting your laundry away?”

“Mom?” I gasp. “Mom is the one?—”

“You want privacy, do your own damn laundry.” She heads to the door. “And you’re welcome.”

I glare at her as she walks out and realize Nour hasn’t moved. I look over. “What?”

“The obvious is she may be your sister, but she’s my world, so go easy on her.” He shakes his head. “I was you once, but middle Hart, all I have to say is don’t stop at the dress; steal the girl.”

Standing in the bathroom mirror, looking at my blurry reflection, I realize it’s not the mirror. “This is so fucked.”

Laughter from the stall behind me alerts me that I am not alone. Sober me would have already known this, but no, I need liquid courage, so I pre-gamed like an off-season college athlete and did some shots … in season … here at Brooks Barn and Brew.

The bathroom stall swings open, and Jackson Brooks steps out. “You good?”

I answer the only way I know how—honestly—as I open the door to exit the bathroom. “Not sure, but I know I’m drunk … again.”

He smirks as he turns off the water after washing his hands. “Good thing you have drivers for tonight’s festivities.”

Tonight’s festivities? The final tournament of the season, and the winner gets the golden pitchfork until they start again after the holidays.

I’m not giving up on it that easily. I mean, we lost, so I have to, but they’ll have to pry it out of my cold dead hands.

“There you are, cupcake.” Boone smiles tightly and drags me away from Jackson.

“If you’re gonna handle me like one of your little playthings, Boone, you better at least give me a kiss when the night ends.”

“Yeah, okay, all Hart, no action. I’ll try my very best to”— he cringes as we step out of the hallway and back into the bar—“forget you ever said that shit to me. The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Fuck you, Big Daddy Boone. You big-spooned the hell out of me not too long ago, and what the hell does all Hart, no action mean? I get action.” I puff my chest out. “I get so much action I had to stop … getting action because my dick was pussy burned.”

“What the hell did he just say?” comes from one of the tables alongside the outer wall of the brewery.

I glance toward what I think is a familiar voice and see Ava Lane, who’s in charge of the legal team for the New York Knights. She has tears in her eyes she’s laughing so hard. Wonder if she’ll be laughing when she has to bail me out of BV jail for a home invasion, and then a robbery … Is there even a jail here, and why does Ava sound like that?

“Did you just talk to me in a man’s voice?”

Laughing harder now, she nods.

“Cool party trick, but I’m not so sure how I feel about that.” I scratch my head. “It wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t … not hot. Do it again so I can finger it out.”

“All right, Hart, line crossed.” Boone chuckles awkwardly as he attempts to move me, but I’m not having it.

“The hell are you doing?” I snarl at him, or slur, or slur-snarl.

“Saving a drunk Knight from getting a well-deserved ass kicking,” Ava does a repeat with her party trick.

I turn back, smile, and focus. That’s when I see Ava’s husband, Luke. “Hey man, your wife has you in her mouth. I mean, your voice in her mouth. I mean?—”

Luke leans forward, and Ava throws her hand across his middle. “Let Hart be; he’s harmless.”

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