Page 15 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)

LOGAN

H appy stands over me as I work my way through my last rep on the bench press. I told him everything that happened over the weekend since I saw him at Ned’s. And he hasn’t wiped the stupid grin off his face because, yes, he was right; I am well and truly fucked over my teammate’s sister.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Happy asks.

“Fucked if I know,” I heave, pushing through the burn.

“Can I ask you a question?” Happy takes the load, placing the bar onto the rack when I’m done.

I sit up, wiping my face with my towel. “Sure,” I say with an eye roll, because I know he will anyway.

“Do you think maybe you should just—I dunno—tell her the truth?” He shrugs a shoulder, removing the weights for me and placing them back onto the weight rack.

I shake my head, taking a long pull from my bottle of water.

Happy looks down at me, his gaze dubious, one eye narrowed. “And there’s definitely nothing going on with you and—” His eyes flits side to side, like he’s checking for anyone within ear shot. “Hannah, right?”

My jaw clenches. “No,” I say vehemently because there isn’t. Not now. Not ever. “She’s just a friend. ”

I can tell by the look in his eyes, the hint of the smirk tugging at his lips, and the way his brow quirks, that he doesn’t fully believe me. But he knows better than to piss me off by pressing me, especially after a workout.

Happy mutters something under his breath, shaking his head.

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“I mean, if you just told her the truth, none of this would even be an issue,” he says with a scoff. “She’d probably be sucking your?—”

“Don’t.” I stand, fronting up to him with a warning glower.

Happy flashes me that carefree grin, the one that could get him off a murder charge, and I can’t help but sniff a laugh.

Because that’s the thing about Happy Slater; even when he says dumb shit and your fist clenches with the need to knock him out, you can’t help but love the guy.

Instead of punching him, I shove him in his chest before heading for a shower.

“So, what you’re saying is baby Draper’s single…” he muses.

I glance at him over my shoulder, noticing the conspiratorial look his eyes.

“Don’t even go there, Hap,” I warn, shaking my head. “Trust me.”

“You know me, brother.” He grins. “I love a challenge.”

I roll my eyes at him as we walk into the locker rooms.

“So now Goldie wants to schedule sex,” Dallas yells over the steady spray of water echoing through the tiled bathroom. “Put it in the calendar and everything! Like a fucking therapy appointment.”

My brows knit together as I move into the stall next to Robbie, glancing curiously between the two as I turn on the water.

“What?” Happy laughs from the stall next to Dallas .

“My fiancée and I can’t have sex whenever we fucking want to anymore.”

“Millie,” Robbie says with a smirk, as if that answers that.

My ears prick at the mention of my girl. I mean… Millie.

“What does your sister have to do with your sex life?” I ask, confused, while trying to sound casual.

“She walked in on us—” Dallas considers his words. “Indisposed.”

“She hardly walked in on you,” Robbie guffaws. “She walked into the kitchen to get a drink, and you guys were fucking against the countertop.”

“It’s our home!” Dallas throws his hands in the air with an exasperated huff. He glances at Happy and then at me. “Now Emily wants to schedule sex for when Millie’s not there.”

“Why don’t you just tell Millie to find a place of her own?” Robbie asks with a shrug, shampooing his hair.

My hackles rise at that. Millie living on her own in the city? I don’t like the sound of that one bit.

“I tried,” Dallas groans. “I told her I’ll find the place. It’ll be secure. I’ll cover everything. She doesn’t need to worry about a damn thing. But she refuses to take a handout.” He shakes his head. “She’s fucking stubborn like that.”

I can’t help but smile to myself because she sure is stubborn. But just as I’m pouring some cleanser between my palms, lathering it into a foam and massaging it into my face, Happy suddenly says, “What about Logan?”

“Huh?” My eyes fly open and bubbles infiltrate, burning like a bitch. “Ah, fuck!” I hiss, splashing my face with water and rubbing my stinging eyes. Blinking hard, I can barely even see straight as I gape across at Happy to find the asshole smirking. “What about me ?”

“You have a spare room.” Happy shrugs, smirk lingering as his head falls back into the stream of water.

“You have two spare rooms!” I counter, my voice at least a few octaves higher than its usual register .

“Yeah.” Happy shrugs again, pushing his wet hair back from his face, grin lingering. “But I can’t guarantee I won’t try to fuck her…” He winks at me behind Dallas’s back, grin lingering.

“Like hell I’d let my sweet, innocent sister live within five blocks of either of your slutty asses.” Dallas barks a laugh, shutting off his shower. “I’ve vetoed the entire Upper East Side because of y’all.”

My spine stiffens with offense, because he’s one to fucking talk. Before Emily, Dallas Shaw was the biggest man-whore in the NHL, maybe even professional sports as an industry. He had an entire roster of women in every city that we played. I’m nothing like him, and even less like Happy.

“It’s not a bad idea. We’re away a lot. And at least you know she’s not living with some random,” Robbie says, turning off his shower and wrapping his towel around his waist. “I mean, obviously not Happy. I wouldn’t let a stray fuckin’ dog live with him.”

“You guys know I’m literally right here, huh?” Happy chortles, openly soaping his balls.

Ignoring him, Robbie continues, “I’d say she could stay with us, but Keller’s a wildcat, and I can’t be sure Millie wouldn’t stumble across us going at it in the kitchen either.”

“Loges?”

I release the breath I’ve been holding, glancing over my shoulder to find Dallas looking at me long and hard.

“Would you be okay with my sister staying with you?” He shrugs a shoulder. “Just until she’s earning enough to pay for her own place.”

With all eyes on me, I swallow hard, glancing at Happy over Dallas’s shoulder to find him watching me with a shit-eating grin, and I swear, it takes all I have not to throw my shampoo bottle at his stupid head.

“Yeah.” I offer a nonchalant shrug, trying so hard to act like I don’t care, when deep down, I absolutely do care. “Whatever.”

Turning back to my shower, I mutter a curse because what the fuck did I just agree to? Millie living with me. In my apartment. Surely this can only lead to trouble.

“Thanks, man,” Dallas says behind me. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”

Closing my eyes, I heave a sigh, my forehead falling against the wet tile with a thud.

Happy chuckles from over my shoulder, but I don’t look at him. I can’t. If I do, I might very well punch him.

“You’re welcome ,” he sings, teasingly.

I turn, watching him strut out of the showers with his bare ass on full display, and I shake my head. Happy fucking Slater.

Red: What the hell are you playing at?

Groaning, I stare down at my phone, at Millie’s message, pulling me from the Toronto versus Chicago game I’m watching. I’m not surprised. It was only a matter of time. Frankly, I’m shocked it’s taken this long to hear from her. I decide to play dumb.

Me: What are you talking about?

Red: I am NOT living with you!

Me: You know, I’m not entirely jazzed at the prospect myself, Red.

Red: Oh, yeah, like it wasn’t your idea.

Me: Trust me, it wasn’t. It was fucking Happy’s.

Red: So… you don’t want me there?

Sure, I could be honest, but I can be a brat too.

Me: Honestly, I can’t think of anything worse.

It’s a half-truth. Because I honestly can’t think of anything worse.

Millie in my apartment, leaving her intoxicating scent right here on my sofa.

Millie sleeping on literally the other side of the wall from me.

Millie naked and wet in the guest room shower, just a few feet away from me.

Having her here and not being able to touch her?

The definition of hell on earth. I’d rather live with Jeffrey fucking Dahmer.

Red: Fine then! Forget it.

I roll my eyes, chuckling at her response because my God, she’s a brat.

Me: You actually want to live here? With me?

Red: Please. I’d rather tweeze every single one of my eyebrow hairs. But it sure beats walking in on my brother and Emily having sex in the kitchen.

I laugh.

Me: Look, if you want some place to stay until you find your own apartment, you’re welcome. But there would be rules.

Red: Rules?

Me: Of course.

Red: What kind of rules?

I pinch my lip between my thumb and forefinger, considering my response.

Me: I haven’t thought that far yet. But definitely no guys.

Red: Well, there goes my social life…

I chuckle, imagining her rolling her eyes as she typed that.

Me: Roommate dinner once a week.

Red: Roommate dinner? That’s so not a thing.

Me: Sure it is.

Red: You mean you and me having dinner once a week?

Me: Yes.

Red: Smooth…

I grin.

Me: You can make a rule if you like.

Red: Fine. No women.

I bite down on my bottom lip, smirking, because she has no fucking idea how redundant that rule is.

Me: Sigh… whatever.

Red: No “accidentally” walking around naked.

I throw my head back, laughing out loud.

Me: Okay, clothes police.

Red: Fine.

My heart flies up into the back of my throat, and I push up into a sitting position, gaping down at my phone while holding my breath like a fucking loser.

Me: You want to move in?

Red: If it means I don’t have to witness my brother railing my soon-to-be sister-in-law where I make my dinner, then yes.

Me: Yes, what?

I know I’m pushing it, but I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to her.

Red: Yes, please…

Red: Asshole.

I laugh, shaking my head, because there’s my girl.