Текст книги "The Girl with Hearts"

Автор книги: Savannah Blevins

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter 4

 

 

HENRIK’S ADVICE

The following morning Henrik sat alone in the locker room at Madison Square Garden. The first to arrive for practice, he already had his gear and skates on. He needed a quiet place to think, to make some attempt to sort through the thousands of thoughts streaming through his clouded head. He leaned back against the wall beneath his locker and stared at the empty room, which would soon be bustling with energy.

The rows of neatly stacked sticks and tape, the sounds of skates being sharpened to exact measurement, and the empty bins, which in just a few short hours would be filled with the foulest smelling laundry in existence. This was his life; it always had been, since he was old enough to walk.

Eat. Sleep. Hockey.

It was the mantra he lived his life by, and occasionally—or, well, frequently—he added girls into that equation. However, since last night, he’d been forced to deviate from that mind track. He suddenly had so much more to consider.

“Oh,” a bewildered voice echoed through the empty room. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here yet.”

Samuel O’Dell, the latest rookie on his team, stood in front of his locker with his headphones around his neck. He must have been singing, going by the sheepish look plastered on his face, but as usual, Henrik had apparently been so wrapped up in himself he hadn’t noticed.

“What are you doing here this early?” he asked Sam, trying to make an authentic attempt at conversation. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spoken to Sam off the ice.

“Coach wants me to work on my slap shot for the power play in case I need to fill in for Callen one night,” Sam explained. He set his bag down next to his locker, studying Henrik intently. “What are you doing here this early?”

He sat up a little straighter, rubbing his hand down his face, considering his answer. Instead, he asked, “Do you think I’m selfish?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, caught off guard by the question. “Umm, no. I mean, you led the Eastern Conference in assists last year. You’re like the least selfish player I know.”

He shook his head, letting Sam know he’d misunderstood his question. “I wasn’t talking about on the ice. I meant like here in the locker room. Am I selfish?”

Sam didn’t answer.

Bad sign.

“You can be honest. I’m looking for a reality check, here.”

Sam rubbed his hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair, a nervous habit. Henrik knew he didn’t want to insult his captain, but he obviously had something to say. “Hell, I don’t know. You’re usually out of the locker room right after the games, and you only hang out with Austin.”

He felt his mouth go slack. “I hang out with more guys than Austin.”

It wasn’t until he read Sam’s expression that he realized his tone was harsh. He sucked in a breath, calming his natural instinct to argue, and held his hands up in surrender. “I apologize. Please, continue.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sam rushed, “you’re an amazing captain. When we’re on the ice, and especially at practice, you always give the best advice. I’ve already learned so much from just the things you yell at me in passing out there.”

“But—”

“But when we’re not on the ice—”

“I’m a selfish asshole.”

Sam winced.

“It’s all right Sam. It’s the truth.”

Sam looked apologetic. “You’re still a good captain.”

As if that somehow made being a shitty person okay. It wasn’t okay. None of it was okay.

He stood, stretching out his muscles. Sam continued to study him as he hung up his gear. “That the only thing bothering you?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss it yet, or even if he should, but Leila’s words kept running through his mind. The more he considered it, her accusations were right on point. There was more to the world than his datebook, and as he looked over at Sam’s youthful, expectant face, he was instantly reminded of Drew. His heart sank a little at the thought of his brother, and everything he’d endured in silence, especially the past year, just because he was too self-involved to notice.

It was time he started to give a little effort, he decided, and he would start with Sam. “How about I moan about it while I help you with that slap shot?”

“Really?” Sam sounded utterly shocked by the offer, which only made Henrik feel worse.

How the hell did an inconsiderate bastard like him manage to become captain?

“Yes, really,” he sighed. “Get suited up, and I’ll meet you out on the ice.”

Fifteen minutes later, he skated next to Sam as they made loops around the goal, and then figure eights down the middle of the ice to warm up. After his muscles started to burn, he slowed and motioned for Sam to come down toward the goal. He spent the next half hour giving Sam his undivided attention while he taught him the secret to a deadly slap shot. After a round of shots hitting directly on target, Sam turned to him, smiling triumphantly. “All right, now it’s your turn.”

“You sure you want to listen to my troubles?”

“Entertain me,” Sam instructed, skating away to retrieve the pucks he’d shot.

He propped his chin on the top of his stick, considering where he would even begin. “Have I ever introduced you to my little brother?”

As the words left his mouth, he realized he should already know the answer to that question. He should have introduced them by now, but that was another problem for a different day.

“I’ve seen him around once or twice.” Sam nodded. “He comes to most of the games.”

“That’s because he lives next door to me,” he explained. “I pay his rent, so he can focus on paying off his student loans. At least, that’s the argument I used to get him to New York. Mostly, I just wanted to keep an eye on him.”

Sam laughed. “Isn’t he just a couple years younger than you?”

“Yes,” he said, sighing. “But he was only twelve when we moved here from Sweden, and even though he’s an adult now, I still feel responsible for him.”

Sam nodded, casually shooting pucks back toward his feet. “That’s only natural.”

“Is it also natural to mistake his sexuality, and ruin his life?”

Sam, absently practicing his handling skills, dropped the puck off the end of his stick. “What?”

“My brother is gay,” he explained. “I had no idea.”

“And you have a problem with that?”

“No. That’s the thing,” he replied quickly. “I have no problem with it whatsoever. I’ve taken care of the kid my whole life. I’ve done everything for him. I don’t fucking care if he’s gay. My problem is I found out last night from someone else.” He collected a few pucks and lined them up for Sam, frustrated as he tried to organize his thoughts. “Now that I think back, I realize Drew’s been trying to tell me for years, and I just never took the time to listen to him.”

“Well, it’s not too late to talk to him about it,” Sam suggested.

“Maybe,” he sighed, “if he doesn’t hate me by now.”

“You’re his brother. I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

He looked skeptically at Sam. “I set him up on no less than twelve dates last year. All women.”

Sam half laughed. “Okay, so maybe you should buy him a gift. You know, smooth things over.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure I’d just screw that up too.”

He took a hard shot at the goal, his annoyance with own actions evident. Sam must have noticed as well. “Is that the only thing bothering you? Because I honestly believe that once you talk to your brother, everything will be fine. He obviously wanted you to know, and since you’re cool with it, shouldn’t everything be good?”

He smirked at Sam as he began to practice his slap shot again. “You’re perceptive, kid.”

“So, stop avoiding the question, and just tell me your real problem.”

He thought for a long moment, unsure if it was a wise idea to confess such a secret, but it might be good to finally get it off his chest. “Well, I guess you could say I’m having a girl problem.”

Sam froze mid-swing and stood up to gawk over at him in disbelief. “You? Girl problems? What is it? Too many dates and not enough days of the week?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“All right, let’s hear it, then.”

He studied Samuel, deciding whether or not he should even speak it out loud. More importantly, should he risk Austin finding out about his indiscretion? It would mean the end of their friendship, he was certain of it. He hadn’t been joking with Leila when he said guys had rules about sisters. “I slept with one of my friend’s family members,” he stated slowly, analyzing how it sounded.

Sam’s eyes rounded to the size of saucers. “You slept with Austin’s sister?”

“What? No. I didn’t say Austin.” He panicked, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. “I definitely didn’t mention his sister.”

“Oh, c’mon, Henrik. It’s blatantly obvious your only real friend is Austin, and trust me, I’ve seen his sister. I met her at the Devils game a while back. She is like ‘oh my God’ kind of hot.”

“It’s not Austin’s sister,” he insisted, but there was an edge to his voice.

“Okay.” Sam gave him a teasing wink. “For the purpose of this conversation, we’ll pretend it is not Austin’s sister.”

He eyed him, but Sam just continued to smile back at him. “So, what’s the deal? Are you afraid your friend, who isn’t Austin, will find out about it and never forgive you?”

Henrik’s scowl covered his entire face. He couldn’t believe he was so transparent. “I guess that’s part of it. It’s just a lot more complicated than I originally planned. Honestly, I thought we’d hook up, go our separate ways, and on the occasion when we did run into each other, it would be something I teased her about. Like—you remember that time we hooked up in the bathroom at the Regency in Newark?”

Sam smirked. “The bathroom at the Regency, huh? Classy.”

“Yeah, well, it gets worse, smart ass.”

Suddenly intrigued, Sam spun around, his expression expectant.

“She was a virgin,” he said reluctantly, knowing how horrible it made him sound.

“Wait a second,” Sam tried, but stopped to give himself a moment. “You took your best friend’s little sister’s virginity in a bathroom at a hotel in Newark.” Sam was starting to look like he finally understood why he was having a bad day. “Oh, Austin is so going to kick your ass!”

“Damn it, rookie. Keep your voice down.”

“Sorry,” he said, wincing. “But it’s true.”

“Yeah, well, I’d deserve it.”

And Henrik meant it. He was the last person who should have received that honor. He was honest enough to admit that even if he had known, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference, but he would have done things differently. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, but it definitely wouldn’t have included the bathroom wall.

“Maybe Austin won’t ever find out,” Sam offered. “If she lives in Newark, it’s not like you’ll run into her that often.”

Henrik laughed, though he wasn’t amused. “Oh, did I mention how she showed up at our apartment last night?”

Sam stopped what he was doing, his voice sympathetic. “Yep. You’re screwed. And not in the good ‘virgin in the bathroom at the Regency’ kind of way either.”

Henrik playfully smacked him on the back of the head with his blade. “No shit, Sherlock,” he growled. “She obviously needs help after her breakup with her boyfriend, or my apartment would have definitely been the last place she would have shown up. I don’t know how to be that kind of guy, though.”

“What? The helpful kind? The ‘show concern for someone other than yourself’ kind?”

The look he shot Sam could have set water on fire. “Sorry,” Sam conceded. “Go on.”

“I don’t know how to be there for her and not make it obvious that something happened between us.”

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “That’s easy. Just be her friend. Do something nice for her.”

“Friend?” He was sure he looked as confused as he felt. “Something nice?”

“I know that might be a foreign notion to a guy who dates more girls than there are ice cream flavors, but it’s an actual, socially acceptable concept.”

He scrunched up his nose at the thought. He’d been Leila’s acquaintance, her opposition, and most recently her lover, but he wasn’t quite sure if friend could be added to that list. It didn’t sound horrible, though he was pretty sure friendship didn’t involve trading sexual favors, but he didn’t know if he was capable of it. Besides, she hated him.

“You look like I just advised you to swallow a celibacy pill,” Sam said with a laugh. “I’m not suggesting you swear off all women. Just the one.”

He knew that. In fact, Leila probably expected him to continue his playboy lifestyle, but it didn’t sound that exciting anymore. At least, not with the prospect of Austin going Lorena Bobbitt on him at the first hint of his betrayal.

“Henrik,” Sam whispered, “you don’t have, you know, feelings for her, do you?”

The words quickly brought him out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into, and he immediately reprimanded his young friend with another slap to the back of the head. This time a little less gentle. “That’s a dirty word,” he barked. “Don’t let me hear you say it again.”

“What? Feelings?”

Henrik awarded him another slap, this time to his shoulder as he skated around him. “Now, shut it and shoot. You want to be on my power play line, I want to see a slap shot that will make the goalies’ knees shake.”

Happy to have his captain’s full attention, Sam let it drop, and Henrik was thankful. He’d wanted time to think, but he wasn’t willing to think about that.

Ever.

Chapter 5

 

 

HENRIK’S INSULT

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Henrik glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother, his beach blond hair stuck out in varying directions, and his nose wrinkled in confusion. The scene probably appeared odd to Drew. It wasn’t like he woke up to find him in his apartment on a regular basis, let alone wearing an apron and cooking breakfast like he was the Martha Stewart of Midtown.

“Morning skate isn’t until noon,” he explained, turning back to the eggs in the skillet in front of him. “I thought I might do something nice.”

Food was nice. Everyone loved food, especially when they were upset.

He would feed Leila, and leave. That was the goal for the morning. Do something thoughtful and friend-like that didn’t involve him having to open his mouth and ruin it.

“Henrik,” Drew sighed. “I thought we talked about this already. We’re okay. You don’t have to do anything nice or prove anything to me.”

He did a double take before he realized Drew thought the eggs were for him. He smiled, more than a little relieved. Everything really was okay between them.

He’d taken Sam’s advice and had a pretty long conversation with Drew after the game. Drew forgave his cluelessness, despite having every right to never speak to him again. He forgave him for a list of other brotherly crimes he hadn’t even realized he’d committed. He had rap sheet a mile long.

Overprotective. Invasive. Flaky. Self-absorbed. The list went on and on.

He definitely wasn’t getting the big brother of the year award, that was for sure.

He wanted to feel incredibly guilty about the entire situation, but Drew wouldn’t allow it. “Every time I wanted to get angry with you, and be mad about you overstepping your brother boundary, I’d remember you’ve been the only reliable father figure I’ve ever had in my life,” Drew told him, fighting back tears. “So, I realize it’s only natural that sometimes you push me past my comfort level, and extend your control a little too far. It’s what a good parent would do, and I’ve learned to deal with the fact that you try to be both brother and father to me.”

He cried too. Manly tears, but there was definite water in the eye area. His brother meant the world to him. He was the only family he had left.

“I’m sorry you had to hear about one of the biggest self-realizations of my life from someone else,” Drew continued, digging the knife deeper into his chest. “The brother in me wanted to tell you, but the son in me was afraid I’d disappoint you.”

Shit. If he didn’t stop thinking about it, he’d cry again.

“This isn’t just for you,” Henrik tried to explain, breaking a few more eggs into the sizzling skillet. “I got the feeling I wasn’t exactly the most gracious host when Leila showed up the other night. In fact, she made that point very clear to me.”

“So, instead of apologizing, you’re making her breakfast?” Drew smirked at him, because that sounded like something he would do. He’d never really been good at apologizing, or talking about his emotions. Actions spoke louder than words, or at least was the norm growing up in the Rylander house.

Like the fact that Drew didn’t have to say he was still upset over the sudden death of their mother. He’d refused to play hockey, or even put on a pair of skates since she died. He still suffered, and it was obvious.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” Henrik said over his shoulder. “And food is my strong suit.”

The Good Samaritan routine would be impossible. He underestimated Drew’s protectiveness toward Leila. Even though he’d been wrong about the reason for it, because they apparently really were just friends, it didn’t mean it still didn’t exist. They were brothers, after all, and overstepping boundaries ran in the family.

“I guess you have a point. Breakfast has always been your specialty.” Drew leaned over his shoulder, wafting the smell toward himself in appreciation. “I may have to let you piss her off more often.”

“With my track record, I don’t foresee that being an issue.” He couldn’t remember a time since their first encounter that didn’t end with her proclaiming his damnation to the world. It was kind of their thing.

“Speaking of your track record,” Drew’s eyes suddenly depicted the same suspicion as his tone, “this un-Henrik-like gesture isn’t the beginning of some kind of revenge attempt at Derek, is it?”

He shot a look over at his brother, who gazed expectantly at him. “You think I’d try to hook up with Derek’s ex over a cheap shot during a regular season game?”

Drew dramatically rolled his eyes. “You know your beef with Derek is more than just a well-deserved stick to your mouth, which I’m sure you’d been running since the puck dropped, so don’t bullshit me.”

Straightening his shoulders and focusing on the eggs, he nodded. He hated Derek for a lot more than just that one cheap shot. “No. This has nothing to do with Derek.”

Drew started to stick his finger in the array of ingredients on the counter, but Henrik quickly reprimanded him with a quick tap on the wrist.

“Good,” Drew responded, rubbing his hand as he shot Henrik a dirty look, “because Austin would kick your ass, and so would I. You know—with Austin’s help.”

He snorted, trying to appear casual. “Why do you always assume I have some kind of agenda to get in a girl’s pants? It’s just eggs, Drew. Everybody has to eat.”

“When has it ever been just eggs with you?” Drew poked him playfully in the ribs. “You know Leila is off limits. Besides, she was a complete mess when she showed up here. She doesn’t need your eggs and ‘hey girl’ line-dropping ass over here hitting on her just so you can get back at Derek.”

The certainty he heard in his brother’s voice struck a nerve. “Your opinion of me is really that low?”

Drew sighed, giving him a sympathetic grin. “You realize we’re neighbors, right? We share a wall.”

Henrik instantly grimaced, and Drew laughed. “I’m not judging you, but it’s my best friend we’re talking about, here. Forgive me for being cautious.”

Henrik stared at the bubbling grease in the skillet and sighed. Even his own brother didn’t trust him enough to do the right thing anymore.

When had that happened?

So, he brought a couple women home every now and then. That didn’t mean he’d lost all sense of moral righteousness. He broke his man code and slept with his best friend’s sister. He knew it was wrong.

He hadn’t pursued her in some preplanned, heartless scheme like Drew was suggesting, though. Leila had shown up at his door commando, for crying out loud.

Commando.

He was a man, not a saint.

“Fine,” he said slowly, his hand shaking as he set the spatula down, and took off the apron. “You make her feel-better eggs, since obviously I am incapable of doing something nice without it ending in an invitation to my bedroom.”

Drew shoved the apron back at him. “Henrik, I was just making a point.”

“That I am an untrustworthy bastard. Message received.”

“That’s not what I meant. She just doesn’t need another complication in her life right now.”

He knew Drew read the volatile look on his face, because he winced and immediately started backtracking. “Okay, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

He held up his hands in surrender and threw the apron on the counter. “Don’t worry, this complication is going home.”

“Henrik—”

“No, you had your say.” He grabbed his sweatshirt off the table and headed for the door. He couldn’t help but think about Leila, standing there with that look of desperation and fury on her face that would forever be cemented in his memory. Then he remembered the panties. The panties she left just for him. So he wouldn’t forget.

Drew had it all wrong. Leila wasn’t a mess because of Derek. She wasn’t some heartbroken and vulnerable damsel in distress. She knew exactly what she wanted when she showed up that night. She’d always been that way. Strong. Independent. Something was definitely going on with her, and she needed their help, but keeping him away from her wasn’t what she wanted right now. He had her panties in his room to prove it.

He paused in the doorway, turning around to look back at his brother. “You know, maybe you should ask Leila what she needs instead of just assuming it for her. I heard assuming everything is what shitty brothers do.”

Drew ran a tired hand through his hair. “I never said you were a shitty brother.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He slammed the door as he left, angrier with himself than with Drew. It was his own fault his brother and everyone else thought those things about him.

He abandoned his mother, smothered Drew, and betrayed Austin.

All he had left was Leila. He had to get it right with her.

Only, he had no idea how to do that.