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I finish cleaning up the kitchen, stuffing the pizza box in the garbage and setting it by the door to throw in the dumpster when I leave. I wash the two plates we used and wipe down the counter as Bria sleeps soundly on the couch.
We were only fifteen minutes into startingYellowstonewhen she began nodding off. I knew she was trying to hide the fact that she was falling asleep, but eventually, her body gave up.
Judging by this apartment, she’s a minimalist. A no-fuss sort of girl. Which is probably why she’s a natural beauty without having to apply makeup or mess with her hair.
Her blonde waves flow around her face as her hand rests on her chest. Somehow, in a matter of days, this girl has become sort of a security blanket for me. A friendship I didn’t even know I needed, and now, I want to fight to keep it.
Sliding my hand under her back, I lift her into my arms and walk toward her bedroom.
Carefully, I pull the covers back and drop her onto the bed. She wiggles around, her eyes barely cracking open.
“Thank you.” She yawns, making the cutest squeaking noise through her nose. “Sorry I was such shitty company and fell asleep.”
“It’s okay.” I kiss her forehead without even realizing what I’m doing. “Sleep tight. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Night,” she mutters and flips over onto her stomach, instantly falling back asleep.
As I walk out, I realize I’m never this soft. I don’t do nice things, like kiss girls on the forehead. I bury my cock inside of them when they ask and nothing more. But with her, I actually like talking to her.Beingwith her. Making her laugh.
What is Bria Collins doing to me?
8
Bria
“Another round of beers?” I ask the group of guys propped up at the bar before grabbing their empties. As they all nod, I smile. “You got it.”
The entire place is buzzing with energy from the hockey game on all the TVs. I’ve heard the announcer mention Brody’s name countless times. I’ve also seen him being an absolute savage on defense. Each blow he gives creates an instant eruption of cheers throughout Club 83.
Once I’ve refilled everyone’s drinks, I gaze up at the TV screen.
How could the sweet guy who tucked me in a few nights ago be so wild on the ice?
It’s like watching a whole other person. Even his body language drips of anger. His shoulders look tense, and he’s no longer that gentle giant I’ve hung out with basically every night since we made our pact. Even when I was working last night, he stopped in and sat at the bar, sipping on a Sprite.
His teammates have been in at the same time as him but have been too caught up in their own shit to notice us talking. And I think Brody is kind of glad that they don’t know how much time we’ve been spending together because he knows once they know, they’ll automatically think we’re hooking up. And I highly doubt he wants to tell them about our pact.
Even though this friendship is so new and I laugh when he calls us best friends, he’s becoming just that. We get each other. He doesn’t have to say he’s fighting demons because I can see it in his eyes.
Getting back to work, I make my rounds again, making sure everyone has a fresh drink. The place is still packed. Which means it’s going to be another late night.
Brody
“It’s all over, dipshit. The game, I mean. But if you take any more cheap shots at my boys, I’ll be seeing you after the clock runs out.”
“Fuck off, O’Brien. Still plenty of time to whoop your asses,” an annoying douchebag on the opposing team growls, pushing against me.
“I know you’re dense, but I didn’t realize you couldn’t read clocks.” I jerk my chin upward. “There’s less than two minutes, big guy. Ain’t happening. Call your mama and tell her to get the titty milk warm and ready for you.”
That pisses him off. And, yeah, it probably wasn’t the best thing to say. I mean, for all I know, he might not have a mom. Still, when it comes to trash-talking, I’m giving myself an A-plus.
When he shoves me harder, I grab him by the face shield and pull him toward me. “What are you gonna do, pretty boy?”
Grabbing the back of my jersey, the ref growls, “Enough, O’Brien.”
Moments later, the puck is back in play, and I’m ready to protect Cam and my boys and finish this game strong. I don’t play defense just because I’m big. The truth is, sometimes, it feels good to just smash someone into a wall. Especially when that someone has been fucking with my teammates all night.
Sweat runs down my face as I watch Cam and Link skate toward the opposing goal. The clock runs down as they make their move, and when Link sends Cam the puck and Cam heads right to the center before snapshotting it in…I smirk at Donovan Jepson before pretending my hand is a phone.
