Page 1 of Don't Puck Your Best Friend’s Girl

Chapter 1

Your dick isn't as big as your brother's.

Those imaginary words ring through my head while I'm jacking off, trying to get off to memories of my ex. Yeah, the ex who decided to sneak into my room and fuck my brother instead of me. My grip slows because it's fucking pointless. How the hell did that even happen?

I'll go to my grave wishing it had been me in that bed because this? This is some bullshit.

Can't even stroke myself without seeing Sandy balls deep in Hannah –– the girl who was supposed to be mine. My girl is now his girl, and every time I picture them together, I want to punch something.

Mom keeps pushing this forgiveness crap. "Cade, you need to make peace with your brother." Like hell I do. Hannah's living with him now, probably riding him every night in his bed while I'm stuck here remembering how she used to look at me like that.

We're brothers who compete at everything –– always have, always will. Yesterday, I told him we're cool. Biggest fucking lie of the century. I'm petty as hell and I'm not letting this slide. I am not letting this go.

So here I am, pre-game nerves making me grip myself harder, trying to get some release. Total failure by the way. But I've got a plan to get even with the golden boy. There's only one way to piss Sandy off: beat him at his own game.

I've convinced Coach Peterson to let me join the team mid-season. I'm worming my way into the one thing Sanderson loves more than anything––hockey.

My hockey now.

You heard that right.

Buckle up, ladies.

I'm about to turn this whole damn family upside down.

The locker room sits empty––just rows of steel lockers and that familiar smell that takes me right back to childhood. Coach Peterson's office door is open, casting a warm glow across the concrete floor. My heart's racing, but not from nerves. This is pure adrenaline. Finally.

I straighten my collar before knocking on the doorframe. "Coach Peterson? It's Cade. Thanks for meeting with me."

"Come in, Cade." He looks up from his clipboard with a half-smile. "Have a seat."

I sit in the chair across from his desk, trying not to seem too eager. Pictures of past teams cover the wall behind him––Sandy's face grinning from at least half of them. Classic. I can't wait to knock that smile from his face.

"So, here's the situation," Coach sets his clipboard down. "Lost our third-line center to a broken collarbone yesterday. We need someone who can skate, stick handle, and isn't afraid to mix it up. Your academic standing?"

"Three point eight, sir," I say, unable to hide my grin when his eyebrows shoot up. Yeah, this brother actually cracks books.

"Good." He stands, grabbing a bag from behind his desk. "Well then, let's see if you can back up that GPA on the ice. Gear up."

The equipment lands in my arms and I catch it with a laugh. That smell––leather, tape, quiet revenge––hits me like a puck to a net. Fucking satisfying.

Gear on piece by piece, the pads feel like a second skin I'd forgotten I owned. Last time I wore anything like this, I was twelve and watching my knee swell to the size of a grapefruit. Sandy had been right there on the bench, ready to sub in. He never subbed out after that.

The skates are snug in the best way. I lace them up, fingers flying through the motions like they never stopped. Coach stands by the rink door, checking his watch with an amused smirk.

"Ready when you are, sir!" I call out, grabbing the stick.

"Call me Coach," he says.

I nod. "Yes, Coach."

That first glide onto the ice? Pure magic. My blade catches perfectly, and even though my legs are a bit shaky after eight years off, I can't stop smiling. The ice welcomes me back like an old friend who's been waiting.

"Blue line drills," Coach directs, setting up cones. "Show me what you've got."

I tear across the ice, finding my rhythm quickly. Edges might not be as sharp as they once were, but the joy of flying across the surface? That never left. I'm panting by the end of the first set, but I flash Coach a thumbs up anyway.

"Alright, hotshot. Let's see that shot."

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