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I stepped away, catching Beckett’s mutter.

“Already treating us like we’re shareholders of his fucking company.”

“Yeah, can you sign a conversation ‘best regards’? Because I think he just did,” Marcus said.

I chuckled.

The house was painfully packed. I made my way to the kitchen where more drinks sat in buckets of half-melted ice.

“Oh my God, you’re Brody Sinclair, aren’t you?” someone asked from my side.

I reached for a bottle of beer.

“Hmm, most of the time,” I murmured, opening the beer and taking a swig.

A couple of girls stood at my shoulder. More ice bunnies? Girls who loved the team, and its players, made themselves available at parties and generally acted like an unofficial fan club. The girl in the library the week before had been a particularly persistent one. She’d been so determined to hook up, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she had a bet riding on who would be the first to bag the new hockey players.

There really was nothing quite like feeling like a trophy fuck. It was second only to suffering the attentions of a gold digger. I knew more about that one than anything else. Sadly, it seemed to be a problem that never went away, no matter how guarded you tried to be against it, seeing as my father had just married one.

“Can we drink with you?” the girls asked.

“I don’t know, can you? Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” I asked dryly.

The girl tittered like I’d made a joke.

“We saw your brother earlier, but he didn’t seem to want to chat with new people,” one of the girls said.

I nodded. “He doesn’t play well with others off the ice, and rarely on it either. Best stay out of his way.”

“So, you’re the more social brother?” One of the girls sidled up to me and touched my arm.

I pulled it away and stepped back. Unsolicited touch was such a fucking pet peeve. People feeling entitled to your time, attention, or body pissed me right off. The byproduct of a life spent with precious little control or freedom, unfortunately, and not something I’d be able to change anytime soon.

“Barely,” I murmured, and then, thankfully, was saved from having to interact with the ice bunnies further by an act of God. They could come in the form of hurricanes, tornadoes, and tsunamis, but mine was a stumbling shape falling into the table, knocking over most of the bottles and slamming into my chest.

“Watch where you’re going!” The ice bunnies panicked over their wet outfits.

The girl, because this disruptor of awkward conversations was undoubtedly a girl, stumbled back, and I tried to help her straighten.

As soon as she looked up at me with her dazed eyes, a flash of recognition hit me.

It was her. The girl from the library. The peeping fucking Tom. The one with the perfect aim and the audacity to laugh when she clocked me in the head with a pack of tissues. Even though a week had passed, she’d remained in my memory, like a stone in my shoe. Maybe it was because she had watched me come so raptly, taking in every single detail. Looking someone in the eye while finishing wasn’t something I allowed myself. It was messy and potentially complicated. It could lead to attachments. So staring this girl in the eyes while my cum pumped out hadbroken my rules. I didn’t break my rules. Ever. It was her fault. Her and her magnetic eyes.

She blinked at me, her eyes an unusual shade of violet blue. Right now, they were unfocused, ringed in smudged black eyeliner.

“Excuse you,” she slurred and blundered away.

I watched her go. She wasdrunk-drunk. Really drunk, and clearly just as rude as she’d been in the library. Annoyance slithered through me. People who were sloppy drunk wasn’t something I liked to see. A vague, unformed irritation gathered in my veins.

She headed out the double doors at the end of the room and onto a crowded patio, and I lost sight of her.

“There you are.” I spied my twin, sitting in a dark corner and watching the party like he was at the zoo and catching a particularly boring talk.

“Can we go?” he asked immediately.

“Not yet. Have you spoken to anyone else? The Hellions team are here,” I added.

Cal nodded. “I saw you talking to them. It seemed like you were making friends enough for the both of us.” He flashed me a glance that revealed he knew exactly how well my conversation had gone with our future team members.