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Who’s fucking sweater was she wearing? I didn’t talk to a single teammate after the game.
And all Coach said to me, “Mentally, you’re letting them beat you.” My head dropped into my chest. He slapped my bare shoulder and continued, “But we won because of you.”
It’s three in the morning. Students love these midnight games because it’s a party, but it’s the one part of Stallions hockey that I’m not in love with. My roommates can’t come because Harper is in med school and pregnant. Logan is training for the NFL and wants to be home with Harper in case something happens. Hagan’s in South Carolina for a three-game away series.
It’s Friday night, or Saturday morning, and the hockey complex will be hopping but instead of going there, I head home, wanting to forget this night ever happened. Better yet, erase the memory of kissing Brooke, tasting her, or knowing how her lips quiver during an orgasm.
Sinking into the couch, I can’t comprehend Brooke wearing one of my teammate’s jerseys. My puck bunny radar must be off.
After kissing her in the ballet studio, I got scared. Frightened of the feelings I was having for the ballet-loving, hair-in-a-bun Brooke. Women make it hard to understand them. I thought a responsible girl like Brooke would want to take it slow, but I guess that’s why I’ve never had a girlfriend, one that truly cared about me anyway.
Heavy footsteps come from the kitchen. “Hey. Heard you won,” Logan says.
“Yep.”
“Why aren’t you at the complex with your team?”
“Why aren’t you upstairs, cuddling Harper?” As soon as it slides off my tongue, I realize how snide it sounds. Expelling a huge breath, I say, “Sorry.”
I don’t lift my head, but he ignores my harsh words and tone. “Harper’s having some reflux, and it scared her. Roscoe is keeping her company while I grab a ginger ale.”
He hangs out for a minute more, but he stops under the archway. “Do you want to come up and talk with Harper?”
Logan has gotten used to my relationship with Harper, but I can still hear a twinge of uncertainty in his voice. He knows Harper loves him, but he’s still skeptical about where I fit in.
He takes a step, but I blurt out, “Wait. She doesn’t need me getting her riled up. And I don’t need her advice right now.”
He glances over his shoulder. “Let me take this up to my girl, and I’ll be back down once she’s settled.”
I nod. Hopefully, I’ll be asleep by the time he returns.
It sounds like a stampede as Logan runs back down the stairs and sits in the chair next to me. “You won. You hit the game winning goal. You fought. Sounds like par for the course, so why are you brooding?”
Lifting my head, my hands tent my nose as I sigh. “Brooke was there wearing a one of my teammates’ jerseys.”
“Are you a couple because…” He runs his hand through his shaggy blond hair. “Hagan and Harper say you’re not.”
“No. And she didn’t know until tonight that I was on the hockey team. I never even told her my last name.”
“So, who was she there to see?”
“Don’t know. I waited until everyone left because if I saw who she was with, I would be in jail, and you know that’s not something I can afford.”
Logan blows out a deep breath. “Hmm… I didn’t take her for a puck bunny.”
“Me either.”
“But wouldn’t you know if someone had a new girl? Even as big as the football team is, who’s dating who spreads like wildfire.”
I just shake my head.
“Why don’t you go to the café on Sunday. Maybe she’ll be working, and you can ask her. You’re welcome to Sunday brunch, but we’re having it at my sister’s house. I know you have practice in the morning, but of course, our families would love to see you.”
“Thanks, but brunch is a big no. I have her number, so maybe I’ll text her and feel her out.”
He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Reed, I’m in my first and only relationship, so take my advice with a grain of salt.” He pauses, rubbing his hands together. “Unless something major happened, she’s totally into you. She blushes when you look at her. But texting can be misconstrued, and it’s not a replacement for looking her in the eye and letting her know how much you care about her.”
“Fuck, it is way too late or too early for this conversation. I’m going to try to get some shuteye.” I stand and grab his hand, pulling him out of the chair, and we turn off the lights.
