Page 29 of A Little Complicated

“Only because he doesn’t want to get his ass kicked by Mav or Archer,” Griffin returns.

“And why would they kick Reeves’ ass?” I ask.

Griffin squeezes the back of his neck. “Because you’re dating Archer, and Maverick is…”

“Maverick,” Everett finishes for him.

My brows bunch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he isn’t going to let anyone come near you when you’ve already been claimed by his brother.”

“We’re dating, but it doesn’t mean I’m claimed or”—I wave my glove around—“whatever the hell it means.”

“That’s exactly what it means,” Griffin argues.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” he returns.

Reeves interrupts us, calling out, “Since when does Lia play? And why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because it isn’t any of your business,” Everett replies. He tucks me behind him like he’s my personal bodyguard.

“Someone’s overprotective,” Reeves mutters from the bench.

I lean around Everett’s back and quip, “You should see him with his little sister.”

The guys exchange glances as whispered, “Everett has a little sister?” comments echo around the arena.

I grimace, peeking up at a very unamused Everett in front of me. “Oops.”

With a quick glare over his shoulder at me, Everett turns back to the rest of his team. “Ophelia’s the Lady Hawks’ goalie.”

The blonde asshole laughs. “Hope you like playing in an empty arena, Ophelia.”

My nostrils flare, but before I can defend myself, an almost-amused Maverick tsks, “Careful, Cameron, or you might get your ass handed to you.”

“By who?” Cameron challenges. “You?”

“We both know that’s a given, but…” Maverick doesn’t bother looking at me as he tilts his head in my direction. “I actually meant her.”

My heart flutters to life, and I gnash my lips together while another scoff erupts from Cameron’s throat as he checks me out from skates to helmet. “This little thing? Doubtful.”

Griffin smirks beneath his glove and offers, “Wearehere to play a friendly game. Lia, you in?”

“I mean…only if Trevor says it’s okay.” I bat my lashes back at Cameron, giving him my best doe-eyed impression.

“I like it when my women ask permission,” he muses, pushing off from the bench and skating toward me.

Maverick skates into his path, folding his arms. “Don’t get me wrong. I can see the appeal. Opie’s cute in a girl-next-door kind of way, but she’s Archer’s girl. Something you might want to remember.”

“Archer isn’t here right now.”

“Yeah, but I am,” Maverick replies.

“What? Is she your girl too?” Cameron approaches Maverick now, only stopping when the toes of their skates are practically touching. “It’s kind of fucked-up if you share with your brother, Buchanan.”

Maverick chuckles darkly and scratches the scruff along his jaw. “Don’t I know it.”

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