Page 91 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

"Nice of you to join us, Connolly," Coach says dryly as I jog onto the ice, five minutes late despite breaking several speed limits to get here.

"Sorry, Coach. Won't happen again."

He gives me a look that says he's heard that before but doesn't push it. "Get warmed up. We're running the power play in five."

Practice moves at a brutal pace, but I barely feel the burn in my legs, the strain in my lungs. I'm operating on pure adrenaline and whatever this new feeling is—this lightness that makes everything seem easier, more fluid.

"Someone got laid," Cory mutters as we line up for a drill.

I glare at him.

"Holy shit, you did!" He stares at me, then breaks into a grin. "Your brother’s ex…again?"

I ignore him, focusing on the drill, but the guys are like dogs with a bone, refusing to let it go. By the time we hit the showers, the entire team seems to be in on the bet about whether I spent the night with Hannah.

"Just tell us and put us out of our misery," Miller pleads as we change after practice. "Did you or didn't you?"

"None of your business," I say, pulling on a clean shirt.

"That's a yes," Peterson declares triumphantly. "Pay up, losers."

"It could be a no," Rodriguez argues. "Maybe he's just respecting her privacy."

"Have you met Sandy?" Cory laughs. "Since when does he respect anyone's privacy?"

"I'm right here, you know," I remind them.

"So?" Miller prompts. "Are we celebrating or consoling?"

I consider telling them to fuck off, to keep Hannah's name out of their locker room gossip. But I also know these guys—they'll just keep pushing until they get something.

"We're not discussing this," I say firmly. "But I will say yesterday went well."

A chorus of whoops and hollers follows this non-answer, echoing off the locker room walls. Coach sticks his head in, eyebrows raised.

"If y’all are done with your tea party, some of us have classes to teach."

"Yes, Coach," we chorus, like the well-trained athletes we occasionally are.

As we file out of the locker room, Miller falls into step beside me. "Seriously, though, you good?"

I glance at him. "I'm good. Really good, actually."

He studies me for a moment, then nods. "Glad to hear it. Just be careful, man. Brother's exes, man. I don’t know."

"I know," I sigh. "Trust me, I know."

Cade. In my Hannah-induced haze, I'd almost forgotten about my brother. Almost, but not quite. The guilt never fully disappears, just retreats temporarily when I'm with her.

"Have you talked to him?" Miller asks, reading my mind.

"No."

"Shit, bro," Miller says.

"What would I even say? 'Sorry I slept with your ex…again, but don't worry, I'm falling for her'?"

The words slip out before I can stop them, and Miller's eyes widen.

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