Chapter 6
Reese
Blood on ice is way more fucking disturbing in person than on TV. It's this stark crimson splash against pristine white, like someone decided to Jackson Pollock the rink with their face. Which is basically what happened when Ramsey turned that St. James player's head into a human mop.
"I still can't believe Ramsey didn't get ejected," I say as we push through the arena exit doors. "He practically decapitated that guy."
Reagan snorts beside me, one hand resting on her baby bump. "Please. That asshole Thompson had it coming."
"I'd say the game was pretty fucking brutal overall," Iris adds, not looking up from her phone. "Did you see the way that ref just let them get away with everything in the first period?"
"That's hockey for you," Oakley chimes in, her voice buzzing with the same energy that has herpractically bouncing next to me. "It's like sanctioned violence with sticks. Makes me wonder why the boys went the football route when this seems way more their speed."
I shrug, pulling Ramsey's jersey tighter around me. It smells like him—a mix of cedar, mint, and something uniquely Ramsey that makes my stomach do weird flips. "Maybe they didn't want to learn to skate?"
"Are you kidding?" Reagan laughs. "Penn would've been a fucking menace on ice. Can you imagine him with actual blades on his feet? The casualty count would be astronomical."
"I heard my name and the word 'casualty.' Someone talking about my glory days? I’m reformed and shit now since my time is spent making babies and populating the world with my demon spawn."
Penn's voice cuts through our conversation as he appears behind Reagan, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her neck. As the twins are set down by their uncles. Lincoln and Jeremiah flank him, both of them heading straight for their wives.
I can't help but smile as I watch the boys greet their girls. There's something so freaking adorable about how these supposedly badass men turn to complete mush around the women they love. Lincoln immediately wraps his arm around Iris's waist, pulling her close as he whispers something in her ear that makes her actually look up from her phone. Jeremiah practically lifts Oakley off her feet in a bear hug that has her giggling like a teenager.
"Come on, little hellion," Penn says, turning to me with his signature smirk. "I'm taking you home."
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out, squinting at the screen in the dim parking lot light.
My Stalker
Tell my cousin to go fuck himself. I'll be taking you home.
My head snaps up, eyes darting around the parking lot. How the actual fuck did he know what Penn just said? I don't see him anywhere, and he should still be in the locker room washing the hockey boy stench off himself.
"Hey, Penn?" I hold up my phone awkwardly. "Ramsey says, and I quote, 'tell my cousin to go fuck himself' and that he's taking me home."
Penn's face splits into a maniacal grin that would probably terrify normal people. Good thing none of us are normal.
"Well, well, well," he drawls, rocking back on his heels. "Mini-me's got his panties in a twist. Tell him I said he can go fuck himself with a rusty hockey stick." He pauses, tilting his head. "Actually, no. That might give him ideas, and we all know he's already got enough of those when it comes to you."
"Penn!" Reagan smacks his arm, but he just laughs.
"What?" He holds his hands up in mock innocence. "I'm just saying what we're all thinking."
My face flushes hot. "That's not—we're not—he doesn't?—"
"Jesus, you're as bad as he is," Penn interrupts, rollinghis eyes dramatically. "You two deserve each other with all that stuttering and denial."
"We're really just best friends," I insist, though my voice sounds weak even to my own ears.
"Yeah, and I'm shooting blanks up in your sister’s womb," Penn snorts.
Reagan smacks his arm. "Don't be that crude."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Penn says, not looking sorry at all. "Should I have said he's finally admitting he wants to rail our sister into next week? Because that's what this is about."
"PENN!" Reagan and I shout in unison, my face burning hot enough to melt the ice inside the arena.
Penn holds his hands up in mock surrender, but the shit-eating grin doesn't budge. "What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. Mini-me's been orbiting her like the Big Dipper for years. It's getting sad to watch. He should just give her his Big Dipper, and we can continue our streak of keeping it in the family."
