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I’m not up for rehashing all the reasons I know she won’t, so I clear my throat and get to what I came to say.
“Look, Quinn, I know I can be an asshole. I didn’t want to be in Chicago and I wasn’t much of a team player. But you were relentless and—” I clear my throat, hating what a pussy I sound like right now but knowing it has to be said. Especially because there is a very real possibility we won’t be playing together anymore. “Hell, thank you for that, because we played some fucking amazing hockey together. And if I screwed that up, then I’m sorry, man. You deserved better.”
Quinn rubs a hand over his mouth and nods, staring out at the lake. Then cutting me a sidelong look, he says, “So I’m thinking this is my window for guilting you into some of the kinky shit I get up to, right?”
I cough out a laugh. “Jesus.”
“Admit it, you’re dying for details.”
Not even close. But man, I’m hoping like hell I haven’t blown my chance to finish out the season with this guy.
Chapter 17
Natalie
Vaughn’s been gone for two hours already when I get up. I could have slept the whole day, but I need to see Greg and I want to do it before practice. After a quick shower, I pull on a pair of leggings and a Wisconsin sweatshirt, throw my hair back in a messy knot and head to Dunkin’ Donuts. Then, using my keycard and some sweet talk for Joe down in the lobby, I let myself into Greg’s place. Standing at his bedroom door, I take a donut hole from the bag and whip it at the lump in his bed.
“Ow!” he grunts as I flip on the lights. Eyes closed, of course. Julia’s out of town, but Greg sleeps naked and one of us being scarred for life is enough.
“What the fuck, Nat!” he coughs amid a shuffle of sheets.
“What? I thought we let ourselves in to each other’s places these days.”
“I thought you were sick.”
I pop a donut hole in my mouth and then wing another one in the direction of his voice.
“Fuck! Knock that shit off.”
I don’t think so. “Put your nuts and berries away. I want a word.”
He brushes past me, wearing a pair of Slayers sweats, and grabs the bag out of my hand.
“Hey, those aren’t for you to eat.”
The scowl he throws over his shoulder satisfies the little sister in me immensely, and I follow him back to the kitchen where I’ve left the coffees. He sweeps his off the counter and jerks a chair out from the table, dropping into it with a sour grunt.
Standing at the counter, I take a sip of my own. He looks up at me with that pissy, expectant stare, but I did my explaining last night. Besides, everyone knows the one to talk first loses.
My brother might be the hotshot NHL player, with three years and a hundred pounds on me, but I’m not his pushover.
The guy makes it about thirty seconds before slumping back into his chair.
“Fine, fuck it.” He throws a hand out to the side. “I shouldn’t have barged in there and beat the fuck out of your shady hookup.”
I raise a brow and take another sip. “Is that what happened?” Because I’m pretty sure Vaughn let him pop him twice as a courtesy. And while normal humans might need a trip to the ER after a blow from my brother, Vaughn didn’t bat an eye. And when I kissed him goodbye this morning, there wasn’t even a bruise.
Greg’s jaw tics, and I figure I’ve got as much of a victory as I’m going to get. Joining him at the table, I grab a donut hole. “You can’t go to your coach with this. You and Vaughn don’t have to get along, you never have before. But you need to be able to play on the same team, because like it or not, he’s really good.”
“Don’t turn this around on me, Nat. He’s the one who fucked our team when he started fuckingmylittle sister.”
He still can’t accept that Vaughn might be with me for any reason other than him. It’s an unfortunate side effect of so many years in the spotlight.
Only even as I think it, I realize that not all players are like that.
Vaughn isn’t.
Still, I need to work with what I have. “I understand that you’re upset. But look at what your team is doing this season. Look at what Quinn and Vaughn did in the game last night.”
