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EIGHT

brOOKS

I adore my sister, I really do, and because I rarely see her, I tend to hang on her every word. But tonight, I’m not paying attention to a damn thing she’s saying. My focus is fixed solely on my best friend, whose got my head all sorts of fucked up. She disappeared in a rush and has been gone for too long, likely because I had to go and make things weird today.

Her comments about my status as Boston’s good boy—that because I’m a gentleman, I wouldn’t know what to do in the bedroom—hit a nerve.

Even if that insinuation isn’t totally off.

But I took it too far. Did I really tell Sara that if she ever heard me come, she’d be the one saying thank you?

My stomach sinks. Because yeah, I did.

What the fuck was I thinking?

The moment I pulled her close to introduce her to my aunt, she went rigid. I did that. I made an inappropriate comment, and in turn, I made my best friend uncomfortable with my touch. All because I have a goddamn crush that I can’t get over.

I have to fix it. Not that I know how, but I can’t handle knowing that my actions have caused her discomfort.

With my sister and aunt distracted by a story Aiden is telling, I head toward the back of the restaurant so I can find Sara and apologize.

When I step into the hallway and find Coach crowding her, his face a mask of anger and his chest puffed up like he’s doing his best to intimidate her, another emotion takes over.

Rage bubbles up, instantly threatening to spew out of me.

After our conversation at practice and the subsequent push-ups, I had no doubt that he’d be pissed when I showed up with her tonight. Maybe I should have told him she was coming, but honestly, we’re just friends. She can’t be my girlfriend, I get that, but I can damn well be her friend.

If he’s laying into her now, telling her to stay away from me, I’m going to lose it.He has no business saying anything to her. If he’s got an issue, then he and I can deal with it.

I move closer, ready to step between them and take the brunt of his anger.

With the way he’s crowding her personal space, neither of them notices my presence.

He’s looking down his nose at her, wearing a haughty sneer. As I take another step, I fist my hands at my sides, willing myself to keep my anger at bay. My blood boils.

My uncle’s tone is pompous. “So this is about Brooks?”

At the sound of my name, my heart lurches.

Sara scoffs and tips her chin up. Despite his stance, she doesn’t cower. “It’s certainly not about you. You made it clear this morning that we would always be a dirty little secret. Now I know why. So no, I don’t care who you do or don’t sleep with.”

My heart officially stops when her words register.

Sara said ‘we’. They’re a ‘we’? Sara and my uncle? No way. He wouldn’t do that to my aunt. To me. He’s Uncle Seb. The best man I know. The man who made me who I am today.

“She’s my wife,” he grits out.

Sara lets out a sound that might be a growl. “Do you hear yourself? One minute, you’re divorced, and in the next, she’s your wife.” She pulls herself up a little taller. “Which is it, Seb? I’m sure she’d be thrilled to discover that you’ve been fucking her nephew’s best friend for months.” Her eyes are wild as she flings out her arms, completely unhinged.

My stomach turns so violently I think I might actually be sick.

My uncle steps in so close he’s got her cornered against the wall. I have to take another step toward them to hear his next words.

“Keep your voice down before someone hears you,” he hisses. “You have no room to talk. Suddenly, you’re dating Brooks and showing up to my family party to announce your relationship? All because I wouldn’t make our relationship public? You don’t have real feelings for him. You’re using him.”

Those words are like a knife to the gut. For my whole life, I’ve put this man on a goddamn pedestal.

Be courteous, Brooks. Always smile, Brooks. Family comes first, Brooks. Always be a professional, Brooks. Be like me, Brooks. Not like your father. Don’t date someone you work with, Brooks. You can’t have it all. Don’t date until you retire. Hockey has to come first. You can’t give Sara what she needs.

I’ve taken this man’s word as gospel. I’ve idolized him and worked to be like him every day of my life. And he’s been out cheating on his wife, lying to my best friend— the woman he knows I’ve been crushing on since the day I met her —and treating her like a dirty little secret.

And she’s been dating him behind my back.

He’s the one she’s been sneaking around with. The man she wasn’t ready to introduce me to.

The lies hurt. The betrayal hurts.

But when Sara’s voice breaks, that hurts more. “Brooks is the best man I’ve ever met. I would never?—”

Before I know what’s happening, my feet are carrying me down the hall. Rage courses through me as I take in every detail of how he’s pinned her against the wall. I move so quickly that they still haven’t registered my presence when I step up beside them and pull Sara to me.

Startling, she snaps her head toward me. Her blue eyes are watery and full of anguish as they find mine.

My chest aches with the need to take all the pain away. To rid her of the guilt and shame that are so clearly eating at her. I stroke her cheek with my thumb, and despite the devastation wreaking havoc on me, when I speak, my voice comes out surprisingly steady. “Hey, Pumpkin. You okay?”

Sara blinks rapidly, stunned, her lips parted and her expression a mix between confusion and fear.

Come on, crazy girl, I silently plead with her . Play along .She’s the queen of acting like a lunatic when she’s feeling vulnerable. This should be second nature.

“They’re bringing out the appetizers, and we both know how you love your apps. Didn’t want my girl to miss out on all the good ones.” I cup her chin and hold her steady so she only sees me.

Fuck my uncle. Fuck the tears brimming in Sara’s eyes. Fuck him for what he’s done.

Tipping close, I ghost my lips over hers. It’s not even a kiss, but fuck, does it feel good. I’ve been desperate to get my mouth on hers since the moment I first heard her laugh. “Come on. Food’s getting cold.”

Those beautiful blue eyes glisten, and her lip wobbles. I swear to Christ, if she cries, I’m going to punch him in the face.

I brush my cheek against hers and bring my lips to her ear. “Breathe, Sar.” The words are quiet, meant only for her. “I got you.”

When I pull back, she’s got that bottom lip trapped between her teeth, but she’s nodding and slipping her palm against mine.

That’s all the confirmation I need. Without bothering to look at my uncle, I tug on her hand, ready to head back to my family.

My uncle clears his throat and calls after us. “There’s a no-fraternization policy. She’ll be fired when word of this gets around.”

I freeze but keep Sara’s hand tight in mine. My teeth are clenched so tight my jaw aches, and the anger coursing through me is molten. But I don’t turn around when I respond to him. “It’s a good thing my name is on the arena, then.” Ready to deliver the final blow, I finally glare at him over my shoulder. “ Not yours .”

His jaw practically falls to the floor. Never in my life have I spoken back to this man. I’ve worshipped the ground he walks on since I was five years old. More than anything, I’ve wanted to make him proud. To do so, I’ve followed his every directive without argument, including staying away from this woman.

That. Ends. Today.

Tugging her along with me, I head back toward the party. When she squeaks, I squeeze her hand. “ Not a word . We’ll talk later, but until we get home, not another word.”

She sucks in an unsteady breath, and I close my eyes, willing myself to calm down.

“Just follow my lead.” It’s a challenge to keep my tone calm and the volume of my voice low. I leave it at that, because anything else I say right now will come out wrong. The last thing I want to do is make her feel worse, so for now, I trudge back to the table, my new girlfriend by my side, ready to tell the entire world to fuck off.