The Keeper (Playing to Win #1)

“I’m sorry” she whispers and crushes my heart with her words.

“Baby, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You were right last night. We skipped a couple of steps. I want to take you out and treat you like the princess you are. I want to romance you before I worship every inch of your body for the first time. You deserve that. You deserve everything.”

She drops her forehead to my chest and shakes. “I have to tell you something, Easton.”

I run my hands over her hair and cup the back of her head. “You can tell me anything.”

Her shoulders lift and fall with a strong breath—in and out—and I brace myself for whatever the hell she’s about to throw my way because it can’t be anything good.

Her Bermuda blue eyes lock on mine, and she runs her teeth over her lip. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?” I ask, confused.

“Any of this?” she whispers but doesn’t look away. “I mean, a little under the shirt action years ago. But that was all . . . before. I’ve never really trusted anyone enough since that night. Not enough to make myself that vulnerable,” she says softly as she shakes.

I cradle her head in my hands. “Breathe, Lindy,” I whisper against her lips. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” she tells me, and my chest swells.

“That’s all that matters. There’s no rush for everything else. I’ve got to woo you first, right?”

Lindy smiles and presses her lips to mine. “You’re going to make me regret using that word, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah, baby. But that’s gonna be the only regret. I promise.”

“Okay.” She rests her head on my chest, and I know I just made the biggest promise of my life. Now I’ve just got to make sure I can keep it.





LINDY





“Hey, trouble,” Maddox says with his head buried in our fridge while he looks for something.

This is what he and Callen do. They let themselves inside our place, eat our food, drink our coffee, and occasionally steal our toilet paper. Spoiled babies. I’m not sure why we gave them a key.

“What are you doing here?” I grumble and steal his coffee from the counter, then spit it back in the mug. “How do you drink this black?”

He turns with a plastic to-go container in one hand and tugs the coffee away from me with the other. “Whatever. Why are you home? Don’t you have lessons or some shit?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I’m here. In my own home.” I pull myself up to sit on the counter and pour my own cup of coffee, then shove him back toward the fridge with the toe of my sneaker. “Where is everybody?”

“What’s with the kick?”

“Grab the Christmas-cookie creamer for me, please,” I push, and at least the little mooch gets it for me without being a pain in the ass.

He adds a ton to my coffee, grumbling about how I’m gonna be a diabetic one day. “Where’s everyone else?” I ask again before I look at the clock and realize just how late it actually is. Damn. I’ve got to get moving or I’ll be late for the lessons I teach at the rink.

“Brynlee just left. The rest of the girls were gone before I got here.” Something must catch Maddox’s eye because he stops and leans back to look up the stairs. “Got something to tell the class, trouble?”

“Nope,” I answer and sip my coffee, acting completely oblivious to the sound of Easton coming down the stairs.

Maddox looks between us when E walks into the kitchen and drops his bag on a stool. He reaches around me for the coffee with a handsome smirk on his face, and I feel my cheeks pink.

“Dude, stop. You two might as well have cartoon birds flying around your heads. What the hell?” Maddox groans, and Easton and I both laugh.

“You into cartoon birds, Mad?” I taunt. “I mean, your dad calls your mom Snow White. Is that like a kink for you now?”

Maddox’s face turns bright red before he points at me. “You’re fucking gross, trouble. My mom’s a saint. She doesn’t have a kink,” he argues, and I can’t stop the ridiculous laughter bubbling up.

“Oh my God. First, your mother, who happens to be my sister, is no saint,” I practically double over, unable to breathe because I’m laughing so hard. “But even better, I was talking about you, you stooge. Not Amelia. I said you had a kink. But I mean, if you want to think about what your parents do in bed, you do you, boo.”

I hop off the counter and pat his back. “See you later, madman.”

“I hate you, trouble,” he calls after me as I grab Easton and walk him to the door.

“He loves me,” I tell E before I run a hand down the front of his hoodie. “It’s December in Kroydon Hills, hockey boy. You may need to get a coat. Maybe even a hat,” I add dramatically.

“Want to go shopping with me when I get back? I’ll need all sorts of stuff for the condo too.” He cups my face with his hand, and goosebumps break out over my skin. “Maybe you’ll even let me take you to dinner.”

“I’d like that.”

He kisses my forehead as his thumb caresses my jaw. “See you soon, princess.”

“Try not to kill my brother while you’re gone, please,” I whisper, half serious.

“As you wish,” he tells me, and then he’s gone.

Wow. I wasn’t expecting the wave of sadness that washes over me.

A week ago, I was furious with him, and now, I kinda don’t want him to go.

“As you wish,” Maddox snickers as he tries to sneak by me, and I smack the back of his head before he gets through the door. “Smart people are scared of me,” he taunts.

“They don’t know you peed the bed until you were six.” I slam the door shut behind him and giggle.

One day, he’s going to run the Philadelphia Mafia.

But right now, he’s just a pain in my ass.





Easton





I’m sitting on the team plane with my earbuds in and my eyes closed when I feel someone sit down in the seat beside me, so I crack an eye open, half expecting it to be Jace. It’s not him, but it’s not much better. His co-captain, Boone Dornan, is staring at me, waiting. For what, I’m not sure.

I lift my chin. “Boone.”

“Hayes. You feeling good about going against Atlanta?” he asks as he adjusts the seat.

“I’ve shut them down before. I’ll do it again.”

“We do things as a team in Philly. You’re not out there alone, you know.” I’m not sure if this guy is serious or if he’s giving me shit for being cocky.

“I hear you. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got no problem being a team player.”

“About that . . .” he drags out. “What the hell is going on with you and Kingston’s little sister? Because I’ve known him for a really long time, and he’s never been this big of a dick before.”

What the fuck?

“She’s my wife.”

Jace stands up from two rows in front of me and turns around, looking like he’s ready for round two. “She’s not your fucking wife, asshole. Drunken Vegas weddings don’t mean shit,” he yells as the guy next to him holds him back.

It’s gonna be a really fucking long week.



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