Page 28 of Anti Player

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure if drafting straight out of high school was the right decision, but it all worked out in the end.”

I pass her a beer. Our fingers brush each other, and sparks light up inside me. Holy shit. What is happening? I think back to that kiss on the cheek with Taylor earlier. I had felt nothing and now from the slightest touch I want to ravish the woman in front of me. A woman who is my best friend’s sister. No, two of my best friends’ sister, since both Brett and Henry would want to castrate me.

Maddie takes a sip of the beer and watching her put that bottle to her mouth does things to me. It stirs my dick and . . . I blink to clear the thought. I take a sip of beer.

“Should we head out to the balcony?” I ask, sounding like I have a frog in my throat.

“Sure, I’m warm now. This hoodie is super comfortable,” she notes.

“Keep it.” I shrug.

Maddie laughs. “You were always very generous.”

We head out to the balcony. “Wow, it’s super pretty out here,” she says. I kind of invested in this small space. It has fake grass and tea lights with a long table and chairs. I like to sit out here in the warm months and take in the city lights.

“Thanks.”

We take a seat next to each other so we can look out onto the city.

“I need you to tell me what happened with Taylor,” I nudge, watching her. She has her knees pulled up to her chest and she looks cozy with my hoodie on. I feel like it should be me keeping her warm, and it’s weird that I’m jealous of a piece of clothing.

“Does it really matter?” she asks.

“It doesn’t because I won’t be seeing her again, but I need to know for me,” I explain, taking a gulp of beer.

She takes a sip of the beer and blows out a breath.

“You’ve got one heck of a view out here. It’s so relaxing.”

“Stop changing the subject,” I urge, looking into her eyes while trying hard not to drown in them.

“She knew you were a hockey player when she met you at Ellie’s wedding. She was hoping to snag herself a rich professional athlete. I wanted to vomit when I heard her talking about you. She also mentioned Brett, but she heard he was a big player so she thought you were the better option. Happy now?”

“No,” I say, taking a long swig of my beer. “I dodged a bullet with that one.”

“I’m sorry you even have to go through that with women. It must be exhausting,” she states looking out to the skyline, so I take in her profile. Her sleek jawline, her high cheekbones.

“It is,” I admit. “It screws with my head constantly.”

“I get that. I mean, relationships are hard enough as it is. I thought Nathan was all in, and bam, he’s screwing another woman. People aren’t straight forward. They should just say how they feel without any bullshit attached.” She looks at me. “What?” she asks because I am staring at her in awe.

“You’ve always been a straight shooter, Mad Pie.”

“I thought we agreed it would just be Maddie,” she insists.

“You’re right, but when your Maddie I forget you’re Henry and Brett’s sister,” I confess because my feelings are tied around this rope holding me together, and that rope feels like it’s about to snap because she is too beautiful, too kind, and too real.

“What do you mean?” she asks, watching me with curiosity or maybe confusion.

I blink and get a grip. “Nothing.” I grind my jaw. Do not confess your feelings to this woman. “You never did say what you did when you heard Taylor shit-talking me.”

“I lost it. I left the bathroom stall. She hadn’t realized I was there, and she tried explaining herself. Shit got real when I told her what my last name was and then I went on to call her a bitch. She’s a mean girl. I can’t even believe people like her exist. No human decency in that one.” She shakes her head and takes a long pull of the beer. “Then she had the nerve to say I was fired.”

“Damn, Maddie, I don’t need you losing your job because of me,” I say to her.

“I’m not losing my job. Taylor isn’t my boss and I told her as much,” she declares with a nod of her head. She’s a real spitfire.

“Well, thank you,” I say to her, and I reach my beer bottle over to hers and we clink bottles. Our fingers brush again, and our gazes connect.

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