Page 36 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

Every car that drives by makes me look up, hoping it's her. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. The food's getting cold, and my confidence is taking a bigger hit than I'd like to admit.

At thirty minutes, I'm starting to feel like a fucking idiot. What did I expect? She broke up with my brother like five minutes ago. She's smart enough to know this is a bad idea. I'm the moron who thought I could charm my way into something more.

I push off the wall I've been leaning against, ready to pack up the embarrassing amount of food and go home. Maybe eat my feelings while watching game tape. Pathetic.

Chapter 11

I stare at the door long after Sanderson closes it, my heart pounding against my ribs like it's trying to escape. My hand still tingles where I touched him, and I can feel the ghost of his fingers between my legs. What the hell am I doing? What the hell is he doing to me?

I press my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the memory of his words, his touch. The way he looked at me like he could see right through me. The way my body betrayed me, responding to him instantly.

This is wrong on so many levels. It's been days—days—since I broke up with his brother. The same brother who called me a whore and stormed out of this very room. The brother who, despite his own betrayal, doesn't deserve this particular knife in the back.

And yet I’m considering meeting Sanderson at the rink.

What does that say about me?

I grab my phone and call the only person who won't judge me for the mess I've made of my life.

"Lennox? Can you come over? I need help."

Five minutes later, Lennox bursts into my room with an overnight bag and a gleam in her eye that tells me I've made a terrible mistake.

"Date night!" she announces, unpacking what appears to be her entire makeup collection onto my desk. "I knew you'd cave. I brought options."

"I didn't say I was going," I protest.

Lennox pauses, eyeing my workout clothes and the conflicted expression on my face. "But you want to."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is with you." She sits on my bed, patting the space beside her. "Talk to me. What's holding you back?"

I sink down next to her, drawing my knees to my chest. I don’t even know why she’s encouraging this so much. She knows how much I liked Cade, but maybe she has a weird fascination with Sanderson and can’t help herself. The girl is a little boy crazy if you know what I mean.

"He's Cade's brother. I slept with him by accident. He's a notorious player who probably sees me as some kind of conquest now."

"You shagged the wrong brother. I don't think he's going to leave you alone," Lennox points out. "He's not like Cade."

I open my mouth to disagree, but then I remember what Sanderson said before he left. About perfect moments and difficult circumstances. About how nothing is ever going to be ideal all the time. It was surprisingly insightful, especially coming from a guy who I assumed had the emotional depth of a puddle.

"He said something earlier," I admit. "About how sometimes we get perfect moments but difficult circumstances, or perfect circumstances but difficult moments. It was actually kind of…profound."

"Wow," Lennox raises her eyebrows. "Hidden depths in the hockey god."

"But what if that's just part of his game?" I say, voicing the fear that's been gnawing at me. "What if I'm just another girl? I keep saying no, and he’s not taking no for an answer. What if all of this—" I gesture around me, indicating our whole bizarre situation, "—is just him playing fetch, and I'm the bone? A Connolly bone?"

Lennox snorts at my metaphor but quickly sobers. "Clearly, there’s something about you that neither of them can ignore. Look, I can't promise you he doesn't have ulterior motives. But you won't know if you don't give it a shot."

"That's just it. If I go tonight, I'm opening a door that maybe should stay closed." I get up and pace the small space between my bed and the wall. "Do you have any idea how messed up it would be to date my ex's brother? To fall for him? What if it actually worked out? Can you imagine those family dinners? 'Pass the peas to the girl who dumped you for your brother after accidentally sleeping with him while you were cheating on her.'"

"Whoa, slow down," Lennox says, grabbing my shoulders to stop my pacing. "You're thinking way too far ahead. Nobody's talking about love or family dinners. You're nowhere near that. This is about tonight. Food. Maybe some flirting butfreefood. That's it."

"That's not how I operate, and you know it. I don't do casual."

"Maybe that's the problem," she says gently. "Sometimes we do things in life because they're fun, not because it's what we should do."

I sigh, leaning my shoulder against hers. "That sounds like a recipe for disaster."

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