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“I’m not sure whether to be insulted or relieved.” The corner of my mouth tipped upward, and his mirrored mine.

“Definitely relieved. I’m shit at relationships.”

“Your former teammates speak highly of you.” When I’d talked with some of the guys from the Nashville Raccoons, they’d been nothing but complimentary. It made me wonder what my brother knew that Carson’s more recent teammates hadn’t. Or perhaps Carson wasn’t as terrible as my brother made him out to be. Or maybe, he’d grown up, he’d changed and evolved.

Levi wasn’t the same person he’d been when he’d played in the NTDP. I highly doubted Carson was either.

“Not all of them.” Carson gave me a pointed look.

“So…you want my number to get back at my brother?”

Carson rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m not that vindictive and petty.”

“Ah, okay. Just a little vindictive and petty, then,” I teased, holding up my thumb and forefinger.

“Me wanting your number has nothing to do with your brother.” He practically growled the words.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Mm. ’Kay. So we’ve established that you don’t want it to date me. You claim this isn’t about a vendetta against my brother. Are you trying to get in my pants?”

“I mean—” He swept his gaze over me, heat lingering on my skin. “I certainly wouldn’t be opposed, but no.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I might need more advice.”

I peered down my nose at him. “Really.”

“Yes, really.” He seemed sincere. I hesitated, and perhaps he could tell that I was on the fence because he said, “You want the Hawks to win the Cup next year, don’t you?”

I groaned. “Low blow, Kovalsky. Low blow.” I scowled at him.

He chuckled, but the cocky glint in his eyes told me he knew the Hawks were my weakness.

I held his gaze, and for some reason, I felt as if I could trust him. If it weren’t for my brother’s feelings toward Carson, I wouldn’t even be hesitating. Which was exactly why I needed to put some distance between us.

I stood, ready to return to the party before I could get myself into even more trouble. Because that’s what Carson was—trouble with a capital “T.”

“And maybe…maybe I could help you too.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Help me how exactly?”

Carson was silent, contemplative. I took the opportunity to study him and consider his words. If you took Levi out of the equation, Carson was someone I’d want to get to know. Our paths were bound to cross again at some point since all my closest friends lived in LA and were connected to the Hawks in some way. And he was killing it when it came to social media.

“Actually, there is something you can help me with.”

I wasn’t naïve enough to think that he wanted my number solely to seek my advice about his new teammates. Regardless of Carson’s ulterior motives, this was a good opportunity that could be mutually beneficial.

“Yeah?” He arched one brow, a teasing glint in his eye. “What’s that?”

“Text me tomorrow, and we can talk more about it.”

He whipped out his phone so fast, he nearly dropped it on the deck. I rolled my lips between my teeth, trying not to laugh at his eagerness. And then I rattled off my number.

“Good night.” I waved over my shoulder, not allowing myself to look back. Because I knew if I did, it would make it even harder to walk away.

I rolled over, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. It was the morning after Cece Golden’s birthday party, and I should have never let Zayn talk me into getting so wasted. But it was the off-season, and I’d gone from a team that had play-off potential to a team that was deep in the weeds of a rebuild cycle.

Fuck my life.

At this rate, I’m never going to hoist the Cup over my head.

I stared at my phone, squinting at the screen before grabbing my glasses. I couldn’t see shit without them or contacts. Unless something was right in front of my face, I had no idea what I was looking at.