No meds. I’m in good hands :)
Grant
You’re the best sister everrrrrr.
Me
And you’re so wasted! Be safe, have fun, and call me later this week! Proud of you, G.
The rumorsabout Brody Saunders are true. He doesn’t talk much. He communicates in grunts and scowls. He’s tall as hell.
And he’s hot as sin.
I’m not afraid to admit I did a deep dive on him when Grant was drafted by the DC Stars a couple of years ago. Everyone kept talking about what a young team they had, led by a fantastic new coach, and curiosity got the best of me.
A pass through his (very limited) social media later, concluding that Brody isreally fucking finewould be an understatement. He’s a man in every sense of the word with broad, wide shoulders and a neatly-trimmed beard. Dark hair, dark eyes. Tattoos decorating his arms and the back of his massive palm.
I’ve always been drawn to people who would burn the world down for me if given the chance, and I have a feeling Brody fits that characteristic to a tee.
How I ended up next to him on the sidewalk is still a mystery, but I’m not going to question it. Not when he sees me shiver at the gust of wind that rips through the June air, pulls off his sweatshirt, and hands it to me without a word.
“You don’t want it?” The scent of his cologne tickles my nose when I slip the hoodie on. “Thank you.”
“I’m six six and two hundred pounds. The dead of winter is my favorite time of year,” he answers.
“I spend almost every day on the ice, but I still prefer warmer temperatures. Guess it’s my Florida blood. It dips below sixty degrees, and I’m miserable.”
“How long have you been skating?”
“For many years. How long have you been playing hockey?”
“Longer than you’ve been alive.” The muscles in his jaw tighten like he’s mad about his history with the sport. Maybe he’s mad at me. “Where are we going?”
“For a walk. If we happen to pass my apartment, we can go up.” When he eyes me, I hold up my hands. “This isn’t some plan to jump your bones. If I wanted to do that, I could’ve left with anyone else.”
“All the single guys at the club sucked. Trust me. I interact with them on a daily basis.”
“Who said I was limiting myself to men?”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m bisexual,” I say. “And, no. My brother doesn’t know.”
“Your brother doesn’t know?” Brody stops walking and steps toward me. I shuffle back, having to tip my chin up to look at him towering above me. Liquid heat pools in my stomach when his palm rests against the brick wall behind me, gaze unreadable. “Would he have a problem with your sexual preferences? If so, I’ll rip his throat?—”
“Thank you, but you can save the hero speech and threats of violence.” I put a hand on his chest and he yanks away from me like he’s been burned. “Grant wouldn’t care. I think on some level, he already knows. We’re best friends and tell each other almost everything. I just… I don’t want my personal life to be part of his professional life. The media is ruthless. He shouldn’t have to field questions about who I’m sleeping with when he’s getting ready for the most important games of his career, so I’m keeping it to myself for now.”
“If he ever gives you any shit…” Brody trails off, running a hand through his hair. “You tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do you live with him?”
“God, no.” I laugh. “We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and we shared a room until Grant was eleven. The day he gothis own space was the best day of my life. For as much as I love my brother, we do not function well as roommates.”
“Is your apartment close?” he asks.
“It is. Interested in coming up?”
