Page 72 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)

Instantly, the skin across Morgan’s cheeks turn pink, making me wonder if it’s a family trait since the same thing just happened to her cousin a moment before.

They both have the same fair skin, similar eyes framed in dark lashes, and a smattering of freckles across their cheeks, though Morgan’s are more pronounced.

And whereas Lauren’s hair is red and Morgan’s is more of a strawberry blonde, the resemblance is still there.

“It was . . . eventful.”

“Oh no,” Lauren says with a groan. “What happened?”

“We never even heard from you the whole time you were gone,” Jules adds.

“Internet and phone were out most of the time I was there because of a huge tropical storm. It was moving toward Bermuda before I left, and my flight managed to get in, but my mom’s flight from Atlanta was canceled.

So that first night...” She glances off toward the wall of windows framing the spectacular view of Boston.

“Oh my god, please tell me you met a hot stranger at the bar and had wild sex with him to get over that douchebag who you were seeing earlier this summer,” Audrey says.

“Basically, yeah,” Morgan says, biting the inside of her lip.

“And?” Jules asks .

“And then the next morning, my mom’s flight came in and the two of us spent the day getting ready for the wedding. And that evening, when I walked down the aisle, guess who was standing there next to my new stepfather?”

“No!” I gasp, just like everyone else, and Georgia startles, her eyes flying open, when my whole body tenses up. I relax and press my hand against her back, soothing her as I help her latch back onto my breast so she can finish eating.

“Yeeeaaah,” Morgan says, breathily drawing out the word. “My new stepbrother.”

“No fucking way,” Audrey says through a laugh.

“Oh my god, Morgs,” Lauren says. “Only you!”

“I have the most shit luck of any person on the planet.” Morgan shakes her head.

“So what did you guys do?” I ask, trying to imagine navigating that shitstorm of awkwardness.

“Swore it would never happen again, and then tried to avoid each other as much as possible.”

“So did it never happen again?” Jules asks in a voice tinged with curiosity.

“Uhhhh...” Morgan’s tongue darts out as she licks her lips and looks away. “There may have been a slip-up, but it’s fine. I’ll probably never see him again. I doubt this marriage will last any longer than my mom’s three other marriages after she left my dad.”

“Your mom has been married five times?” I ask.

Morgan nods and says, “Yep.”

“But what if they do stay married?” Lauren asks.

“You know my mom,” she says, waving off that idea. “They won’t. The weird thing, though, is this guy—my stepbrother—it’s like he doesn’t exist. I Googled him on the flight home and couldn’t find anyone with his name that looked anything like him.”

“That’s odd,” Audrey says, and asks for his name as she reaches for her phone.

“Believe me,” Morgan says, “if he existed, I would’ve found him. Social media is literally my job.”

“Why don’t you just ask your mom for more info?” Jules asks.

“And make her wonder why I’m asking? No, thanks. Plus, he’ll be easier to forget if I can’t stalk him online.”

“ Would you stalk him online?” I ask.

“I mean...I might be curious and go looking, which would be bad. It might have been the best sex of my life, but he’s my stepbrother. And to be honest, he was kind of an asshole anyway.”

“Why’d you sleep with him if he was an asshole?” Jules asks. But from what I’ve learned over the past couple of months, it seems like assholes are Morgan’s default.

“Did I mention how hot he was?” Morgan says. “And he wasn’t really an asshole until our parents showed up. Just bossy as hell, which, to be honest, kind of worked in the bedroom.”

I chuckle, thinking how much I like it when Luke gets bossy like that. Not that I’ll know what that’s like for a while. I start imagining what other things we can do that don’t involve him actually being inside me, until I notice that all the girls have turned and are staring at me.

“Something you’d like to share?” Morgan asks.

“Uh, no.”

“Oh, come on,” Jules says. “You’re still newlyweds. You should be having good sex all the time. The rest of us are. ”

“Except me,” Morgan chimes in.

“You just said you had the best sex of your life in Bermuda,” Audrey reminds her.

“Which is why it sucks that it can’t happen again,” Morgan says, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ears. “Not that I even know how to find this mystery man.”

We start throwing out suggestions, and Morgan just laughs. “You think I didn’t already think of all those things? Honestly, it’s best if I just put him out of my mind.”

“Put who out of your mind?” Luke’s voice comes from behind Morgan, and we all look over to see him standing in the entryway, his sweaty workout clothes clinging to his muscles.

I hate that I feel so out of shape while he’s maintaining his all-too-excellent physique in anticipation of training camp, which starts soon.

I know my body needs time to recover, but as an athlete myself, it’s hard to convince my brain that I shouldn’t be doing some sort of exercise to get back into top condition.

“No one,” Morgan says quickly, and Lauren shifts the conversation to the start of the hockey season. Since she and Morgan both work for the team, I’m married to Luke who plays for them, and Jules and Audrey are both engaged to players, everyone in this room is part of the Rebels family.

And that’s when it hits me, we’re not just united through hockey—these women are quickly becoming my closest friends. I’ve gotten together with my high school friends here and there, but it always feels forced, like we’re trying to hold on to something that’s past its expiration date.

But with these women, the friendship flows naturally. Despite our different ages, backgrounds, and current situations, when they’re around, it feels like being with family—the kind that loves you no matter what.

And that’s what I’m building here in Boston with Luke, not just our immediate and extended family, but friends who are family, too.

I glance over at my husband, where he stands chatting with Lauren and Morgan, and his gaze shifts to me as I hold our daughter against my shoulder to burp her.

Her head is heavy on my shoulder, and the look in his eyes is a combination of love and hunger. It’s a look that reminds me that he’ll never get enough of us together, which is good, because that’s exactly how I feel, too.