“Surprise!” Jameson says, pulling me into a hug before I can prepare myself. He smells like the same cologne we’ve both worn since high school.
“Jamie.” I hug him back, clapping his shoulder. “Didn’t know you were coming. You’re looking lean.”
“Thanks. I’ve been working out. When Kendall mentioned she needed a date, I honestly couldn’t say no.” He pulls back, grinning at me with my own face. “Didn’t want to miss one of the greatest coaches in the league getting his much-deserved award either. Coach Hart is a legend.”
I want to break my brother’s jaw.
“He is,” I manage.
Kendall hangs back, her eyes meeting mine for half a second before sliding away. She looks stunning and smug, and I want to drag her somewhere private and demand to know what the fuck she thinks she’s doing.
“I wouldn’t be here without Kendall,” Jameson says, his hand finding her waist now. Possessive. “We’ve been catching up. Feels like old times.”
“I’m sure it does,” I say. “Oh, have you met Mila?”
My brother’s eyes light up like he’s discovered a new toy. She sizes my brother up and stands to greet him. I’ve seen that look on his face before.
“Hi. I tame men like you,” she says with a smirk, then turns to me. “Right?”
Laughter falls from my lips. “Whatever you say, babe.”
She sucks on her bottom lip while staring at my mouth.
“You’d better stop that,” I whisper, but it’s loud enough for them to hear.
“How did you two meet?” Jamie asks, and I can tell he’s curious.
“Actually,” Mila begins, “we’ve been on and off again for a few years. Right now, we’re on. Very on.”
“Being with Mila is making me reconsider a lot,” I say as the servers move around us to serve dinner.
I can see the rage in Kendall’s eyes as she glares at me.
“Anyway, you should probably get to your table. Dinner’s being served.”
Jameson looks between us, almost as if he can see the rage. “You two are still at each other’s throats? Wow.”
“Wow, indeed,” Mila says. “Nice to officially meet you, Jameson.”
“Pleasure’s mine,” my brother tells her.
My teammates are staring at me, and Mila tries to cover, but they know me so well that they understand that I’m enraged.
At the next table over, their backs are toward us. Jameson settles into the seat beside her, his arm draping over the back of her chair like he’s claiming her. He had his chance. She was happily planning a future with him.
That’s the difference between him and me. Jameson sees what he wants and takes it. I see what I want and find reasons to hold back.
Not anymore.
Dinner is a living nightmare for me. Every time Jameson leans in to whisper something to Kendall or when his hand brushes her shoulder, I almost crash out. When she laughs at one of his jokes, I want to scream. Mila makes conversation, but I’m barely present, offering one-word answers while I watch my brother and Kendall put on a show. They’re both performing for me right now. Then I realize that makes me the powerful one. Once I figure that out, I find my Zen and go into the type of calm I sometimes find on the ice. It’s when I’m most dangerous.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. The lingering touches, the private smiles, the way he keeps finding excuses to be in her space. He’s marking territory. Reminding me that she was his first.
Kendall plays along, which is worse. She leans into his touches instead of pulling away. She meets his eyes when she laughs. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to know when she’s performing.
“You got something on your mind?” Callan asks.
“Thinking about the speech.”
