The Langfield Brothers: Box Set

14. Brooks

FOURTEEN

brOOKS

“Dude, what the fuck was that?” War asks as he drags me out of the bar by my lapels.

I turn around and heave a sigh of relief when I catch sight of Sara. When she skitters to a stop in front of me, I haul her to my chest and rock her back and forth. “You okay?”

She sighs against me, then tips her head back. “No beating up coaches, thirteen. I need you to keep your job so I can keep mine.”

I heave a relieved breath at the annoyed frown on her face. It means she’s not overly upset about my uncle’s asshole remark. With a kiss to her forehead, I tuck her into my side, then lead her down the underground hallway that’ll take us back to the arena.

“Yeah, you’re going to have to start talking,” War says, keeping pace with us.

“Brooks was defending my honor,” Sara replies, leaning forward to look at War.

I shake my head and hold her tight. She doesn’t take the blame for this. When men make bad decisions, they’re to blame. Not the women who stand beside them.

“Just working through some shit. It will be fine.”

War eyes me, squinting like he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push as we continue on toward the player’s garage.

“See you back at the apartment?” I ask as we approach our vehicles.

War grasps my hand and pulls me in for a hug and a clap on the back. Then he leans down and kisses Sara’s cheek. “Nah, I’m heading out for a bit.”

“Don’t forget we have to be at the shelter first thing tomorrow,” Sara reminds him.

War runs his hands through his dark hair. Women love his bad boy persona—I happen to know it’s all bullshit. He’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met, but he plays it up with the tattoos that peek out from the collar of his suit and both sleeves. His ice-blue eyes scream mischievous devil, and his chiseled jaw has been broken in more than one fight.

“Eh, Ava will assume I’m going to be late anyway. Why disappoint her? Admit it, she told me to be there half an hour before the rest of the team, didn’t she?”

I laugh and hit him with a light punch to the gut. “Be nice to her. She’s a good girl.”

Tyler scoffs. “Yeah. If you want to call the devil an angel, be my guest.” With a wave of his hand, he turns toward his car. “See you in the morning, lovebirds.”

I open the door for Sara, but instead of climbing in, she turns to face me full on. “What’s with him and Ava? She’s so nice.”

Ava heads up VIP relations and charity work for the team. She’s one of only a handful of females who live in our building, so she and Sara are close.

“All I know is that they don’t get along.” I rest a hand on the small of her back and guide her up into the truck. “He didn’t show up to an event she set up for us last year, and she was not happy.”

Once Sara is settled and is pulling her seat belt across her torso, I shut her door and round the back of the truck. As I go, I pull in a few deep breaths. The adrenaline rush that’s kept me going for the last few hours is fading fast, and the weight of today’s events is beginning to hit me.

I almost punched my coach today. Twice . It’s true that he can’t fire me, but it’s not okay for me to be getting into fistfights with the man who leads our team. He needs to be gone. Quick. It’s the only option.

“Why didn’t Tyler show up at the event? He was obligated to be there. Charity events are written into your contracts. I can understand Ava’s anger if he blew it off. She works hard to set them up for you guys and make sure they work with your travel schedule.” Sara goes on about the issue facing War and Ava, completely unaware that I’m having a mini panic attack beside her.

“We need to take things up a notch,” I blurt, my heart racing again and my palms sweating. “I can’t keep getting into fights with him. It’s not good for the team.”

Sara studies me, her expression full of concern. “You don’t have to defend me, Brooks. I’ve done nothing wrong, and I’m a big girl. I can handle his little slights.”

As I exit the parking ramp, my grip on the steering wheel tightens, along with every muscle in my body. I’m so wound up, I’m about ready to snap. “No one, I don’t care who they are, can speak like that to you.”

“You’re taking this whole boyfriend thing very seriously.” Sara lets out a breathy laugh. “ Don’t mess with my girl .” Her tone is teasing, and she puffs out her chest and swings her arms in front of her in what I guess she thinks is a mockingly manly way.

“You’re my friend. My best friend . My feelings on the matter have nothing to do with a pissing match. This is about making sure you’re being treated with respect.”

Does she not get that? Does she really think my anger has more to do with some macho man thing than her happiness and well-being? Fuck that.

“I’ve gotten into exactly zero fights in my life.” I face her as we come to a light to emphasize my point. “ Zero . I’m not a hothead who gets up in arms when someone says shit to me.”

She blinks a few times, like she’s letting my explanation sink in, and nods. “Okay.”

With her lip caught between her teeth, she fiddles with the hem of her jersey for a quiet moment. When the light turns green, I continue toward home.

After another block or so, she speaks again. “So, what can we do to push your uncle over the edge?”

My brain is a jumbled mess of terrible ideas. Kissing her in the middle of the packed arena. Fucking her so he can hear us. They are neighbors, after all. They share a wall and everything. I mean, really, what will it take for him to disappear? Should I propose?

Sara interrupts my crazy. “Come over for dinner tomorrow. He’s right next door. We can play board games or have a karaoke competition. We both know how loud my singing gets. He’ll definitely know we’re hanging out.”

Right. Because those are normal ideas. Unlike mine. What kind of sane person comes up with things like fucking my best friend against the wall until I make her scream so loud my asshole uncle knows precisely who she’s with ?

I clear my throat and nod. “That works.”

Once Sara is safely inside her apartment, I head back to the elevator, glaring at my uncle’s door as I go. I hate that his apartment is right next to hers. It used to be one more reason I looked up to the man. His choice to live here with his players during the season.

The building is beautiful, but the units are all relatively small. He could easily afford a condo or a brownstone like Beckett’s, yet an apartment here was good enough for him. I thought that was another thing the two of us had in common. Nice things are great, but I’m a simple guy. I don’t need a penthouse like Gavin’s. My love of the game and a healthy respect for the people in my life are what I’ve always strived for. Coach taught me that. It’s the image he always portrayed and the one I’ve worked my whole life to emulate.

Now I see his reasoning in a new light. Did he choose to stay in this building because it made it convenient to cheat on my aunt? They own a gorgeous house on the water in Florida, and that’s where Zoe lives year-round. Seb stays there often during the offseason and travels to visit her between games the rest of the year. I thought it showed dedication. To her and the team. Now I know better, and it only makes me hate him even more.

Part of me wants to move out of the building tonight. Leave all the memories behind. But that would be giving in. Giving up. And I don’t give up. Never have.

I’ve spent my life being expected to remain steady under the toughest conditions on the ice. I’ve perfected the ability to stay focused under any kind of pressure. If anyone has trained for the next few months, it’s me.

When my key turns in the lock too easily, I frown down at the doorknob. Why is my door unlocked? I’m meticulous in a lot of my routines, and I wouldn’t give Sara a hard time about always leaving her door open if I was in the habit of doing the same.

With a sigh, I push the door open. I can’t say I’m surprised when I find all the lights on and my younger brother bent over in front of my fridge.

“Don’t you live somewhere else?”

Aiden jumps, smacking the back of his head inside the open fridge. “You scared the shit out of me.” He rubs at his head and turns on me with a scowl.

I drop my bag beside the door and toe off my shoes. “Excuse me for scaring you in my own damn apartment. Why the hell are you here? You didn’t even come out for drinks after the game.”

If I had to label one of my teammates as the stereotypical partier, it would be Aiden. He’s always the fun one. The good time. Yet tonight, he skipped out on celebrating a win over New York, a win he definitely deserved praise for. And that makes zero sense.

He leans against the kitchen counter and takes a long swig of the beer he pulled from the fridge. It’s from a six-pack of a special malted brew I bought at a local brewery Sara and I had dinner at a few weeks ago. I grab one for myself and settle against the counter opposite him, then stare him down, waiting for an explanation.

“Jill and I got into a stupid fight. I rushed home after the game to talk to her, but she’d locked me out.”

I cross my free arm over my chest and tuck my hand under the opposite bicep, then take a pull off my beer. “It’s your apartment. Don’t you have a key?”

“She dead-bolted it.”

I hide my laughter with another swig. “Musta been a doozy of a fight.”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “That’s just it. I don’t even know what she’s mad about.”

Lose the girl . The words are on the tip of my tongue, but a comment like that will only add salt to his wounds. Aiden must see something in his girlfriend that the rest of us don’t, because from where I’m standing, she’s nothing but toxic.

“You can sleep on the couch.” I tap my beer against his, then wander toward my room. Now that I’m home, my exhaustion has hit like a freight train.

“Can’t you go stay at your girlfriend’s? Then I can sleep in your bed.”

My steps falter as I hit my bedroom door. The image of waking up with Sara has me smiling. That image quickly morphs into a memory, and I have to hold back a laugh. I did wake up with her yesterday. And then she acted like a complete psychopath. After that incident and the way she latched on to my thumb at the bar, I’m beginning to realize that’s her thing. She acts like a lunatic when she’s off-kilter. And she’s obsessed with my cock.

“No.” I leave it at that. I don’t have the mental energy to come up with an excuse as to why I won’t rush upstairs and sleep in Sara’s bed. I close the bedroom door, muting his whining, and chuckle.

Fucking Aiden.