Page 4 of Brutal Game

Hockey wasmine.Ruthlessness wasmine.Social status, and sponsorships, and likely being number one in the NHL draft…all of that was mine. But a person? After growing up inmyfamily, after having been betrayed and abandoned, first by my parents and then by my older brother, after watching all of my other siblings run away or drift off to do their own thing…it was clear a person would never be mine. That meant keeping them, and I didn’t want that. Not when everyone left. Not when I couldn’t trust anyone outside of the team.

No, I’d never had a mine.

Until right the fuck now.

She was still staring at me.

Go ahead, princess, stare all you want.

But her glare grew. I could feel loathing from where she stood in the doorway. Women rarely glared at me. Even the ones I kicked out of my bed post-orgasm didn’t get mad. I didn’t know who this girl was. I didn’t know why she was pissed at me. I didn’t care.

Especially when Noah Hawthorne, some douchebag in Sig Nu who hadn’t made the team and never would, approached her, leaning down to whisper something in her ear.

Mine.

With a growl I couldn’t control, I shoved my barely-touched beer at Judah, making my way toward them. If she wanted to flirt with someone, she could flirt with me. And if that jackass touched her, I was punching a hole through his head with my already clenched fist.

Halfway across the room, I stopped, and forced myself to inhale. I could hear my older brother, Micah, in my head, telling me to rein in my temper andthink.And the genius hacker was right. My temper got me into trouble a lot, a switch I was trying to control better.

Your emotions don’t help you control the situation. Other people’s do. If you’re too caught up in your anger, you won’t see the threads to pull.

A cool head is the head that wins. My half-brother, Marcus, the cold, emotionless billionaire.

Alright, I could play this situation better. I didn’t know this girl, but picking her up in my arms and carrying her upstairs like an unwilling bride most likely wouldn’t go over well.

I continued my way across the room, swaggering slowly without a care in the world, a half-smile on my face as I scouted my prey.

“…Never seen you at one of these parties before, cutie. I’m happy to show you around, show you the ropes,” Noah was saying as he handed Tovah Kaufman, senior sports editor at The Daily Queen, a beer.

The girl I’d locked onto immediately grabbed the beer out of Tovah’s hand, testing the cap to make sure it was properly sealed before handing it back to her.Damn. She was smart enough to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with—a good idea when Vice and Vixen ran rampant around campus, even if we didn’t allow it at hockey parties. Not only that, she clearly cared enough about her friend that ensuring her safety was second nature. What would it be like, to matter so much to someone that caring for you was like muscle memory to them?

Who was this girl? She had to be visiting Tovah from somewhere else. If she was a student here, there was no wayI would’ve missed her. Reaching them, I raised my chin at Noah.

He glared at me.

I jerked my head to the side.

Face turning a satisfying shade of red, Noah muttered, “asshole,” and walked away.

The girl had watched our mostly silent interaction, eyebrow raised. Once he was gone, her glare returned.

“What’s with the glare, princess?” I asked.

“Uh oh,” Tovah Kaufman said. Even though the rumor was that she got around, she stayed away from the team. So why was she here tonight?

“Don’t call me princess,” the girl said automatically.

“Aviva…” Tovah trailed off.

Aviva.

It was the perfect name for her. The three syllables settled themselves deep in my chest and made a home there.

“What’s wrong with princess, princess?” I asked, tugging on one of her curls.

Aviva shifted away from me, but the look in her eyes briefly shifted from loathing to lust. Eyes wide, lips parted, blush spreading across her cheeks—a rosy pink color I wanted to seeeveryfuckingwhereon her.

Capitalizing on the moment, I took her hand, slowly turning it so it was palm up and bending over it to drop a light kiss on her wrist. Her rosy skin was so soft and vulnerable here, and as I brushed my lips over it, I caught her scent: tart and sweet like apples and honey.

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