Page 119 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

"What the fuck?" The words escape before I can stop them.

My brother stands on my doorstep looking like hell—hair uncombed, dark circles under his eyes, wearing the same clothes from last night's game. His expression shifts from determined to shocked as he takes in my appearance—the bruised face, the boxer-only attire, the clear signs that I just rolled out of bed.

"Nice look," he says, gesturing to my nearly-naked state. "Can I come in?"

I don't move from the doorway. "What are you doing here, Cade? After the shit you pulled last night, bringing Megan to the game, you've got a lot of nerve showing up unannounced."

He has the grace to look momentarily ashamed, but it quickly hardens into defensiveness. "I have no right to be mad? That's hilarious coming from the guy who fucked my girlfriend."

"It was an accident, a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, you accidentally stuck your dick in her." He shakes his head in disgust. "That excuse is ridiculous."

I clench my jaw, torn between slamming the door in his face and dragging him inside to keep this argument private. Before I can decide, I hear soft footsteps behind me. I turn to see Hannah approaching, wearing nothing but my team shirt that falls to mid-thigh, her hair a sleep-tousled mess, her makeup from last night smudged beneath her eyes.

She freezes when she sees Cade, her eyes widening in obvious panic. "Oh."

Cade's expression goes through a rapid series of transformations—shock, hurt, anger, finally settling on a bitter resignation. "Wow. You didn't waste any time, did you?"

"It's not what it looks like," Hannah starts, then stops herself with a grimace. "Actually, it's exactly what it looks like. But it's not like we planned this."

"Sure seems like you did." Cade's voice is hard, his eyes darting between us. "Was this your plan all along, Sandy? Get me out of the way so you could have her for yourself?"

"That's not fair," I snap, my temper flaring despite my best efforts to stay calm. "You know damn well that's not how it happened."

"Do I?" He takes a step forward, into my space. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like my brother—who always wants what I have—swooped in the moment I had something good going. Just like the scholarship. Just like with Mom."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" My voice rises, matching his intensity. "I earned that scholarship. And Mom? Jesus, Cade, just because she understood why I lost my shit over Megan doesn't mean—"

"Stop it, both of you!" Hannah intercepts, physically stepping between us despite being dwarfed by our heights. She places a hand on each of our chests, creating distance. "This isn't helping anything."

Cade looks down at her, his anger momentarily derailed by her intervention. "You shouldn't be in the middle of this, Hannah."

"Too late," she says with unexpected firmness. "I'm already in the middle. I've been in the middle since that night in your room."

I place my hand over hers where it rests on my chest, a silent show of support that doesn't escape Cade's notice. His jaw tightens, but to my surprise, he takes a deep breath and steps back.

"Look," he says after a moment, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I didn't come here to fight."

"Then why did you come?" I ask, my suspicion evident.

He gestures to my face. It’s aching like a bitch. "I saw what happened at the game. That high-stick was brutal. I wanted…I just needed to make sure you were okay."

His confession catches me off guard. After everything—the fight in the quad, bringing Megan to the game—the last thing I expected was concern.

"I'm fine," I say, more curtly than intended. "Takes more than that to keep me down."

Hannah shoots me a look that clearly says be nice, and I swallow the defensive retort that rises automatically. She's right. This olive branch, small as it is, deserves acknowledgment.

"Doctors say no permanent damage," I add, slightly less aggressively. "Just looks worse than it is."

Cade nods, seemingly satisfied with this assessment. His gaze shifts to Hannah, something complicated flashing in his eyes before he looks away. "I should go."

"Don't," Hannah says quickly, surprising both of us. "Please. Stay for a minute."

Cade hesitates, clearly caught between pride and something else—maybe curiosity, maybe the same nagging sense of unfinished business that's been hanging between us for too long.

"Fine," he says with obvious reluctance. "One minute."

---