“Probably not a bad move. It’s not like he’s been with us for this stretch, but I’m sure he’s gonna hear about it if you show up tonight.” I run my hand down the smooth skin of her back and cup her perfect fucking ass. “Text me later and let me know how it goes.”
She skims her lips along my jaw, and my cock presses against the zipper of my jeans. “Baby, you keep doing that and your brother’s going to kick my ass when I get on the bus with a boner.”
She pulls back with such a sexy fucking pout on her lips. “Fine. But you know you don’t need to let him kick your ass though. You’re bigger, and I’m pretty sure you’re stronger than Jace.”
“You asked me not to hurt him, so I haven’t,” I admit. “Either he’ll get over it or he won’t. But for now, at least he can’t bitch that I hurt him. He’s your brother. How we handle him is up to you.”
Her face softens, and she grips my shirt. “Damn, you’re one sexy man, Easton Hayes. You’ve got this whole insanely hot balance of growly dominance and supportive strength going on, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen anything more seductive in my life.”
“Don’t say shit like that when you’re naked in front of me, baby. I’ve gotta go to work.” I lift her up by her ass and drop her back on the bed, then lean over her. “We leave tonight right from the game, then have one more game tomorrow night before we fly home. You gonna be waiting for me when I get back to Kroydon Hills, wife?”
“Oh, you bet your sweet ass I will, husband.”
I wrap her hair around my fist and tug her to me. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Lindy moans and presses her mouth to mine. “You better win for me tonight, hockey boy.”
I force myself to take a step back. “I’ll do my best.”
I’m sitting on my bench, lacing up my skates before our walk through when Jace comes around the corner and hits my boot with his hockey stick. “Where the fuck did you sleep last night, asshole?”
“Come on, man. Let it go,” Boone tells him and tries to move Jace away, but my brother-in-law has gotten himself way too worked up for that. He’s looking for a fight, and I’m so fucking over this shit.
I stand to my full height, which is about three inches and thirty pounds bigger than Jace Kingston, and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s your fucking problem, Kingston?”
“You’re my fucking problem, Hayes. You got Lindy drunk and took advantage of her in Vegas. Now you’re married without a prenup—pretty fucking convenient. And now it’s your first fucking away stretch, and you didn’t sleep in your room last night. So what, you already out fucking some whore?”
I see fucking red and swing at Jace’s jaw before I even realize what I’m doing.
Pretty sure I hear a crack too, as he takes a step back to steady himself, but I grab him by the front of his jersey and yank him toward me.
Boone grabs me as Malcom grabs Jace.
“You wanna do this here, man?” I reach out and shove him back, fighting to free myself from the bear-hold Boone’s got me in. “Fine. Let’s do it. I married your sister in Vegas, and I’d do it again. I don’t give a shit about a prenup because I don’t care about her money. If she asked me to sign something today, I’d do it in a fucking heartbeat. I’ve already got more money than I’ll ever need.”
He shoves Malcom off him and comes at me again. “Where the fuck did you sleep last night, Hayes?”
“In bed with your sister. She flew in yesterday. Now get the fuck out of my face.”
Coach Fitz walks into the room, and everyone takes a step back.
“What the hell is going on here?” Fitz booms, and everyone around us stops talking and moves. “You two. With me. Now.”
We follow Coach into the room Brynlee and Mason, our other physical therapist, are currently working in. “Can you guys give us the room, please?”
Fitz sounds calmer than I think he actually is.
But that’s yet to be seen.
He waits until the door closes, then his face turns purple. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? Jace. You’re a captain. Act like it. If you want to keep winning games, we need a goddamned goalie. Preferably one who can stop the puck. Max spun shit into gold and got me one of the best goalies in the whole fucking league. And you haven’t stopped fucking with him all goddamned fucking week.”
Jace looks at me and then back to Fitz, who I haven’t heard curse once in the week I’ve been with the team.
“Is this hazing? Because no team of mine is going to haze the rookies or the fucking trades. Even if they came from a rival team.”
“It’s a family thing, Coach,” Jace answers him, and I scoff.
“You got something to add, Hayes?” Fitz demands more than asks.
“I’m not your family, Kingston. I love my wife, and she’s your sister. You should try talking to her instead of making me your problem.” I turn back to Coach and mask the anger I can’t quite seem to shake. “I’m here to win games, Coach.”
“So help me God, if this shit spills over onto my ice, I’m benching both of you. Do you understand me?”
We both answer, “Yes, Coach.”
“Good. Now get out of here and warm up before I decide to bench you for good measure.” Then he starts mumbling about stupid fucking asshole players, and I start to wonder if maybe we broke Fitz.
Jace and I get the fuck out of the room and let the door slam shut behind us before he stops in front of me. “I want to tell you to stay the fuck away from me, and we’ll be fine on the ice. But you said something back there, and I gotta know.”
I brace myself for whatever bullshit he’s about to sling my way.
“You love her? Lindy? You love my sister?”
“More than my own fucking life, asshole,” I answer him and don’t stick around for him to say anything else. I’ve got a game to prep for, and this isn’t how I want to do it.
Lindy
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
I’m not sure I can accurately measure how much I don’t want to call Max. That’s the only reason I can come up with for waiting until I’m in the arena’s parking lot, thirty minutes before puck drop to make the call.
“Madeline,” he answers after one ring. “Are you okay?” Max always goes straight into protector mode. If any of my older brothers assumed the father role after our father died a few months before I was born, it was Max. He’s my oldest brother. My oldest sibling. He’s always taken it on his own shoulders to make sure all nine of us were okay. Me especially, considering Jace is my closest sibling in age, and he was in high school when our dad died.
“I’m fine. I’m great, actually,” I add, trying to sound cheerful instead of like I’m about to walk the plank. Which is kinda what this phone call feels like. “I decided to fly out for Easton’s game tonight and wanted to give you a heads-up that I was here. There were a few reporters at the hotel last night and today, so I’m sure it will end up somewhere.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I could have arranged a box for you. If you give me a few, I can get my assistant—”