“Mother…fucking…fuck!” I slam the car door before leaning through the open window, smiling at my Uber driver. “Thank you so much, Matthew. Have a great night.”
His smile is wobbly, eyes wide with fear. “Good night, ma’am.”
Closing my eyes and inhaling deeply, I turn toward the mini-mansion in front of me. With something like seven fireplaces, it’s not all that mini. Who needs that many fireplaces, you ask? My ostentatious-as-fuck brother, apparently.
The front door opens, revealing Olivia, hands on her belly as she bites her grin back. “Thought I heard my wonderful sister-in-law. Mouth of an angel, I swear.” She gestures at my foot as I hobble toward her. “Dancing injury?”
“Simon Syphilis inflicted.”
She pulls a face. “You need repellant.”
Fucking tell me about it.
Inside, I give her a squeeze. “Hey, Pip.”
Olivia frowns, crossing her arms over her chest when I release her. She’s so tiny. Paired with the pregnancy, it’s impossible for her to look as angry as Carter and I make her. She looks more adorable than anything.
“I’m not sure I’m a fan of this new nickname.”
“But it’s perfect. You’re everyone’s favorite pip-squeak.”
There’s a tall blonde sitting on the kitchen island, one long leg slung over the other. Cara hops down with a grin, swallowing me in her hold. “I called her a shrimp earlier and she tried to pull my hair. She’s a feisty mama with these pregnancy hormones. Threw a hissy fit when I kept her at bay with my hand on her forehead.”
“You gonna have those hormones soon or what? ’Cause I’m scared of you as it is. I need to mentally prepare myself.”
Cara laughs, then frowns, nibbling the tip of her thumbnail. She huffs, and that frown turns into a full-blown pout. “Not yet. Emmett says if I sit on his dick one more time without a break longer than twelve hours, it’s gonna fall off. Apparently, ‘I’ll kiss it better’ isn’t the correct response.”
“It’s early still,” Olivia reminds her gently. “Give it some time.”
Cara draws a pattern on the marble countertop. “I know. Guess it’s messing with my head that Carter knocked you up by accident and it hasn’t happened for us yet despite the endless sex and the fucking calendars.” She runs her teeth along her lower lip, eyes hooded. “Not that I mind all the trying. I’d ride that man into oblivion. He’s got a dick made of gold.”
“Thanks for the mental image,” I murmur, pouring myself a glass of water.
She grins. “When are you gonna get yourself your own golden dick? They’re magical, promise. Just ask Ollie.”
“No part of me wants to know about Ollie’s experience with whatever’s between my brother’s legs.”
“Agreed.” Olivia follows me to the couch, then starts painting her lips with the ends of her hair, a faraway look in her eyes. “But if we could, like, talk about it for one little minute…” She gives me puppy eyes, and before I can protest, she goes on. “It’s just that Carter’s been so gen—”
“Babe!” The front door slams open, voices pouring into the house, and three seconds later Carter’s sliding into the room, chest heaving in his three-piece suit. “Guess what I got!” He rips open a small shoe box, tosses it to the floor, and holds up the tiniest pair of hockey skates I’ve ever seen. “Look how cute these are!” His grin is so wide, and he’s nearly vibrating. “Cutest skates for the cutest baby!”
“I’m not sure Baby Beckett will be able to stand, let alone skate, when those fit.”
“That’s what I said, Ol,” Emmett says as he strolls in. He kisses Cara’s cheek and slaps a hand to her ass. “Told him not to bother wasting his money. He said he was rich and bought them anyway.”
Adam claps Carter’s shoulder. “Leave him alone. He’s a proud dad-to-be.” He smiles at me. “Hey, Jennie. How’s the new place? Too bad you got Garrett for a neighbor, huh?”
Before I can answer, the man in question comes inching down the hallway at the literal pace of a snail. Where I’m uneasy about seeing him after the dildo fiasco, he looks downright terrified, ears already bright red, throat bobbing, eyes wide as they pinball around the room, landing everywhere but on me.
He clears his throat, tugging on the wrist of his suit jacket. “We talkin’ ’bout the baby skates?”
“Actually, we were talking about the golden dicking Jennie needs.”
The teensy skates fall from Carter’s hands at Cara’s words, like the glass of water does from mine. I manage to catch it before it hits the ground, but not before soaking my top.
“No, we weren’t!” I yell at the same time Carter shrieks, “Jennie doesn’t need a dicking!”
Cara and Emmett cackle, and Adam’s busy patting Garrett’s back.
Because the man is keeled over, choking on his own damn spit, and I’m about to punch him right in the nuts if he doesn’t reel it the fuck in.
I hate him. I hate him so much. Him and his lopsided, happy smile, and his stupid blond hair, always a beautiful, perfect disaster.
When he finally remembers how to breathe, his frightened eyes land on me.
I wish they hadn’t. Why, you ask?
Ever had a box full of rubber dicks explode in front of a super-hot hockey player? Ever had one of them slap him right in the face? No? Just me?
Cool.
Well, anyway. That’s why.
“Jennie needs someone to roll around with,” Cara continues. “Have some fun and live it up while she’s young and single.”
“No fun!” Carter’s still screaming. “Jennie doesn’t need to have fun!”
“What about your dance partner?”
Carter gasps. “Not Steve.”
“Simon,” Olivia reminds him.
“I will break him, Jennie. Break his soul. Crush his balls.” Carter squeezes the air, or rather, Simon’s imaginary balls.
I check my nails while Carter finishes one of his overprotective dad-bro bullshit spiels. “Are you done?”
He leans close. “Twinkle Toes will never dance again.”
“Great.” Standing, I gesture at my soaked top. “Can I borrow a shirt, Ollie? I can’t go to the game with a see-through shirt and a black bra.”
“No, you cannot,” Carter agrees aggressively, still worked up about the casual fun I’m not even having.
With an eye roll, I follow Olivia out of the room.
“My eyes are on my face, Andersen,” I mutter as I brush by Garrett, noting the way his gaze is glued to my chest. Inwardly, I smile as his cheeks heat like a volcano before he drops his stare to his fancy shoes. He’s so damn awkward; teasing him is too easy.
Ninety percent of Olivia’s shirts are bordering on crop top length due to the several inches I have on her, so the Vipers tee I settle on elicits a glare from my brother loaded with a fuckton of disapproval when I meet him downstairs.
“Wanna borrow a sweater too?” he asks. “You can wear one of mine.”
“No thanks.”
“You might be cold.”
“It’s warm in the arena.”
“I can see your belly button.”
“I can see that your eyes work.”
“Fucking sisters,” Carter grumbles, adding something about wandering eyes and dead teammates as he yanks open the door to the garage. I think he was doomed to be this overprotective, that it came with the territory of trying to fill my dad’s shoes, making sure I never get hurt.
He doesn’t have much to worry about anyway. I never let anyone close enough.
Carter glances back at me as the boys start to filter out, and his gaze softens as Garrett approaches. “Garrett told me he helped you look for Princess Bubblegum.” He pecks my cheek. “We’ll keep looking.”
He steps into the garage, leaving Garrett standing there like a deer in headlights.
“Is that right?” I murmur, chin lifting. “What else did Garrett say?’
“Nothing,” Garrett promises hastily, hands up between us like he needs protection. “Nothing, Jennie, I swear. I wouldn’t—I would never tell him—”