Page 33 of Pucking Off-Sides With My Brother's Best Friend

“How have things been going for you on the medical side? I heard we had a couple of guys who have to be on the bench for the next couple of weeks due to injuries.”

Mark nods. “Yeah. Just a couple of sprains. Thankfully nothing more serious. Those guys put their bodies throughhellthough.”

“Seriously.”

“Speaking of which, Iformallymet Your brother the other day. Let’s just say I now understand why opposing teams know to stay the hell out of his way.”

“Well, That’s for sure. Jax really knows how to make an impression. But once you get to know him, he’s a big teddy bear.” Mark chuckles a bit in disbelief.

“But it’s true, though they really take a beating—there’s always a part of me that holds my breath when Jax gets hit or when I see Aiden go down on the ice. I know they’ve got padding, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt or that they’re immune to injury. Hell, when he was in high school, Jax chipped his front tooth even with a helmet on. I was surprised when our mom let him continue playing. I thought for sure she’d make him give it up for something less physically demanding. Honestly, I’m surprised he even has front teeth at all at this point.”

“Hopefully things hold out with the next game. I’ve heard the other team plays are even more physical than the last. Though I guess, in all honesty, the injuries and stuff do keep me employed, so maybe wishing for less of them is counterintuitive.” Mark smiles, and I giggle.

The conversation continues, but even with the subject changing from our work to other things, Aiden is still in the back of my mind. When I walked into the kitchen earlier, his back was to me, and he was leaning over the counter, seemingly very tense. In the mess that was our conversation, I never got to revisit and ask what was wrong with him anyway.

I feel a little guilty about that, even though he acted like a complete ass questioning my decisions. What even was that? Just because he’s Jax’s best friend doesn’t mean he has to treat me like a little sister.

“Aurora?”

“Yes?” I look up. Mark is looking at me again with concern, and I realize that even with him being a nice guy, my head is just not in this date. I hate it, but I know we won’t be going out again.

Starter date or not, I don’t feel comfortable leading him on or making him think that a relationship between the two of us is in the cards.

“Is everything okay?”

I smile, feeling lighter now that I’ve realized that things won’t be going any further than they have tonight. Now I just need to find the right words to break it to him without hurting his feelings.

“I’m just tired,” I reply. It’s not a complete lie. I am tired. The past couple of nights, I’ve been up late coming up with some upcoming social media campaigns to continue trying to drum up excitement for the team in the face of their first away game.

I’m not going, unfortunately, but I still want to do what I can. Playing away games is hard enough without being a new team. I’m hoping we have some annual pass holders who decide to ride or die for the team in a different locale.

“This first away game is nerve-wracking, and I keep hoping that I’ve done enough to help build up a crowd on our side, you know?”

Mark nods, and I relax a little. It’s helpful that he understands some of the issues I’m talking about, and I can only hope that things won’t be weird when we get back to work.

*****

I sigh as I close my car door. The day has been long, and I’m ready to do a lot of nothing for the evening. The social media campaigns I presented didn’t get accepted, and I’m feeling a little defeated. Realistically, I know that not every proposal I put forward is going to be accepted. But I’ve been on a pretty great streak with turning things in and getting them approved on the first go.

I know I can probably tweak some things and submit again, but for now, I’m wallowing in self-pity.

It’s hot and muggier than it’s been in days. A hard rain swept through mid-afternoon, leaving the streets steaming. By the time I left work, it’s stopped but left the air thick with moisture.

My skin’s never looked better, but it’s annoying when your fabric keeps sticking to you and taking multiple showers a day is the only way to get through.

It’s either that or walk around feeling like I’m swimming in my own juices. That’s no way to live.

The house is quiet, except for some soft music when I open the front door, but the scent of roasted tomatoes has me breathing deeply.

My stomach growls, reminding me that I skipped lunch and only ate a few snacks here and there. I couldn’t wait to get home and cook something, but now that I know someone else has already started, I’m looking forward to eating even more.

“I’m home,” I call out, announcing my presence as I drop my bag in the foyer and toe off my sandals.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Jax replies as I move further into the house. The closer I get to the kitchen, the more complex the scent gets and the more my mouth waters. When they finally come into view, I’m surprised to see Jax sitting at the bar counter with a beer in his hand and Aiden bent over in front of the stove. “Welcome home, sis.”

I smile, a bit confused but appreciative of the welcome. If there’s food being cooked, it’s usually me or Jax who does it. Other than a sandwich or something light, I rarely see Aiden in the kitchen. I thought the man lived off protein bars or the blood of naïve virgins. Seeing him bent over inspecting a dish of what looks to be roast chicken and potatoes wasn’t on my bingo card of things to happen in my life.

“Thanks,” I say, trying to cover up my surprise. “Something smells amazing.”

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