Three Pucking Wedding Dates (Hockey Harems #1)

8. Theo

8

THEO

W hat is that?

The thumps coming from outside the door pull me from my thoughts. Setting aside the book I was reading, I take off my glasses and walk to the front door.

As I pull open the door, I’m greeted by the sight of Oakley and Charlie struggling to hold up Gray and Reid. Both of my brothers are visibly drunk, their arms slung around the shoulders of their respective supports. Their loud laughter fills the air, jarring in the otherwise quiet evening.

“Hey, Theo,” Charlie says, his voice strained under the weight of Reid. “I got a call to pick these two up. You might want to take over.” He gestures toward Oakley, who is struggling to hold Gray up.

“Thanks, Charlie,” I reply, doing my best to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I slide in next to Oakley, taking Gray’s arm from her and draping it over my own shoulders. His breath reeks of alcohol as he leans heavily against me.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” Gray slurs, the words barely coherent. Meanwhile, Reid’s incessant giggling echoes across the room.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” I tell him tersely.

Oakley’s green eyes lock onto mine, holding a mix of defiance and vulnerability—a combination that’s all too familiar when it comes to Oakley. Her wavy brown hair is slightly disheveled, framing her flushed face. It’s clear she’s had more than enough to drink herself, but she isn’t drunk, not like the two of them.

“Oakley,” I say, my voice measured despite the frustration bubbling just below the surface. “How much have you all had to drink?”

She looks at me, her gaze unwavering as she shrugs nonchalantly. “I only had two. I lost count with the two of them.” A hint of sass lingers in her words, but I can tell she’s trying to downplay the situation.

My hands clench into fists at my sides, but I force myself to remain calm. Now isn’t the time to confront her. Instead, I focus on getting Gray and Reid inside. Charlie and I manage to haul them through the door, their inebriated laughter still echoing in the air. Oakley follows close behind.

My gaze turns to Charlie once Gray and Reid are inside. “Thank you, Charlie. I’m sorry you were called so late.”

“That’s no problem.” He nods before taking his leave, closing the door after him.

“Let me help you with them,” Oakley offers, reaching out to take hold of Gray’s arm.

I shake my head, my voice cold as ice. “You’ve done enough, Oakley. You can leave now.” Her eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, I see a flicker of hurt cross her face. But she quickly masks it, her expression turning defiant once again.

“I’m not going anywhere, Theo,” she declares. “I’m supposed to be staying here with you guys—Gray invited me. I thought it was an invite that the three of you had agreed on, but apparently I was wrong.”

“Are you out of your mind?” I snap, my frustration boiling over. “Look at them, Oakley!” Reid and Gray lean against me, their limbs heavy and uncoordinated from alcohol. “This is not the time for?—”

“Fine,” she interrupts, her voice cracking slightly. “I’ll stay out of your way while you take care of them. But I’m not leaving.” She crosses her arms defiantly, daring me to argue further.

“Stay here,” I growl, shooting her a glare before turning my attention back to my brothers. I half drag, half carry them up the stairs, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest that tells me things are only going to get worse from here.

Gray’s room comes first, and after I wrestle him onto his bed, he mumbles something unintelligible and promptly passes out. A small part of me envies the oblivion he’s found himself in. The door clicks shut behind me as I head toward Reid’s room, where the process repeats itself. He too finds solace in the darkness of sleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

“Sleep it off, both of you,” I mutter under my breath, closing the door to Reid’s room and leaning against it for a moment, trying to compose myself.

With each step back down the staircase, my anger simmers beneath the surface. Oakley’s presence, her stubborn refusal to leave, feels like a festering wound that refuses to heal. Every glance at her reminds me of our tangled past and the fact that she’s now become entwined with my brothers too.

The hallway light casts a soft glow on Oakley’s face as I return to the living room, her green eyes full of defiance and determination. My jaw clenches involuntarily, anger bubbling beneath the surface like lava waiting to erupt.

“Here,” I say gruffly, grabbing my wallet without breaking stride and pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills. I thrust them at her, my hand shaking with barely contained rage. “Take this and find somewhere else to stay.”

Oakley stares down at the money in confusion, as if she can’t quite comprehend what I’m doing.

“What?” she asks, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Why are you giving me this?”

“Because I don’t want you here,” I snap, not even bothering to look at her as I speak. “I don’t know how much clearer I can make it.”

Her eyes flash with hurt and anger, but she refuses to back down. “You really think throwing money at me will solve whatever problem you have with me being here?” she challenges, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Oakley, just go.” My voice is ice cold, every syllable laced with venom. “Find a hotel, stay with friends, I don’t care. Just get out of this house.”

The tension in the room crackles like a live wire as Oakley’s eyes narrow and her voice takes on a steely edge. “You don’t get to treat me like this,” she says, her words cutting through the air between us.

I clench my jaw, memories of our shared history bubbling up like acid in my gut. It’s true that I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve always tried to protect her—sometimes even from herself. My anger flares, and I can’t help but lash out. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Oakley? You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Excuse me?” she retorts, stepping closer, her green eyes flashing with defiance.

“First me, and now my brothers?” I growl, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Wasn’t being with me enough? You had to go and throw yourself at Gray and Reid too, didn’t you? What kind of selfish slut does that make you?”

Her face goes pale, but instead of backing down, she squares her shoulders and meets my gaze head-on. “How dare you,” she hisses, her voice low and dangerous. “How dare you try to shame me for being with your brothers when you’re the one who took my virginity and then…then left me like I was nothing!”

My chest constricts, a painful reminder of that fateful night. I look away, unable to meet her gaze any longer. My hands tighten into fists, the memory of her soft skin under my fingertips taunting me. “And I’ll regret that night for the rest of my life.”

From the look in her eyes, I can’t tell if she’s about to cry or scream. But, she doesn’t back down, not like I thought she would. “As long as Gray and Reid want me around, I’ll be here. And if that means sleeping on the damn couch, so be it.”

My jaw clenches, my hands balling into fists at my sides. The intensity of my anger surprises even me, but I can’t help it.

“Fine,” I growl through gritted teeth. I watch as she turns on her heel, her wavy brown hair swishing against her back as she heads toward the living room. I can’t stand to be near her any longer, not when every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do something, anything, to regain control of the situation.

Quickly, I pivot and stride down the hallway, making my way to the workout room. The heavy door shuts behind me with a thud, instantly muffling the sounds of Oakley settling into the living room. It’s just me now, surrounded by the familiar scent of sweat and iron.

As I begin to wrap my hands in preparation for a few rounds with the punching bag, I can’t shake the feeling that the words I said couldn’t be any further from the truth.

But, Oakley can’t know the truth.

My fists fly, each strike connecting solidly with the leather bag as I channel my frustration into every punch. I think of Oakley, her fiery determination and refusal to back down. And as much as it infuriates me, I can’t deny the admiration that blossoms alongside my anger.

Forbidden memories come to mind—the night of Oakley’s eighteenth birthday. The way her lips tasted like strawberries, her body trembling beneath me as I claimed her virginity. A surge of anger courses through me, fueled by my own helplessness and inability to control the situation now.

“Damn her,” I growl under my breath, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I square off with the punching bag, remembering how her eyes had sparkled in the dim light, full of trust and love for me.

“Argh!” With a roar, I unleash a torrent of punches on the heavy bag, my knuckles connecting with the leather again and again. Each impact reverberates through my entire body, but it’s not enough to quell the tempest inside me.

“Is this what you want?” I snarl, imagining her defiant face. “To see me lose control? To watch me fall apart?”

The more I think about it, the angrier I become, and my strikes grow fiercer. Sweat drips down my brow as I push myself harder, faster, desperate to drive her from my thoughts.

“Get…out…of…my…head!” I punctuate each word with a powerful blow, my breaths ragged and labored. And then, with one final punch, the bag comes crashing to the ground, its chain snapping under the force of my onslaught.

I stumble back, gasping for air as I survey the destruction. My hands throb with pain, but it’s nothing compared to the storm raging inside me. Oakley has gotten under my skin, and I can’t seem to shake her off.

“Damn you, Oakley,” I whisper, my voice hoarse and raw. “Why won’t you just leave me be?”

As I stand there, chest heaving and fists still clenched, I know it’s not just Oakley I’m angry at. It’s myself.