Page 92 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

"Falling for her? Shit, Sandy, that's not in the playbook."

"Tell me about it," I mutter, already regretting the admission.

"So, it's serious? Not just a hookup?"

I hesitate, then nod. "Yeah. It's pretty serious. For me."

"Wow." He lets out a low whistle. "Never thought I'd see the day. Sanderson Connolly, whipped."

"Not whipped," I protest, though without conviction. "Just…invested."

"Uh-huh." His grin is insufferable. "Well, if she's got you saying words like 'invested,' she must be pretty special."

"She is," I say simply.

He claps me on the shoulder. "Then maybe it's worth making things right with Cade. Not for his sake, but for yours. And hers. If he wants to stay mad, that’s on him, but you can’t hide it forever."

I know he's right. If Hannah and I are going to have any chance at a real relationship, the situation with Cade will always be the elephant in the room until I address it without a fight. But the thought of reaching out to my brother, of trying to explain feelings I'm just beginning to understand myself, is daunting.

"I'll think about it," I promise, which is more than I was willing to consider a day ago.

Miller nods, satisfied for now. "That's a start. Now go get educated, you degenerate. I'll see you at film review later."

We part ways, he heads for the engineering building, me toward the business school for my Sports Management class. As I walk, I pull out my phone, ignoring the team chat notifications to send a quick text to Hannah:

Still thinking about this morning. Can't wait for tonight.

Her reply comes quickly:

Focus on your classes, Connolly. Not all of us can coast on our athletic skills.

I grin, typing back:

Is that what you think I do? Coast?

Prove me wrong. What's your GPA?

3.7, actually. Surprised?

There's a pause, then:

Impressed. Maybe there's more to you than just a pretty face and hockey skills.

So, you think I'm pretty?

I think you're fishing for compliments when you should be paying attention in class.

Class doesn't start for 10 minutes. Plenty of time for you to tell me how pretty I am.

Your ego is big enough without my help. Focus on your education, James. I'll see you tonight.

Just like that, my name again. Two syllables that feel different coming from her. Special. I'm smiling as I pocket my phone and head into class, not even caring that I probably look like an idiot.

James Sanderson Connolly is hooked. Who would have thought?

Chapter 25

The library clock reads 6:45 when my phone buzzes with a text.

---