“Are you reading all the glow and show about your brother again? I thought you’d decided after landing your ass in jail for breaking that reporter’s jaw it wasn’t in your best interest.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t help it. My brother’s goddamn face is everywhere. Look at this.” I navigated to theChicago Bulletpage, tapping my brother’s grinning photograph. You bet he had every reason in the world to be happy.
A huge salary.
A fancy house and four cars.
A second Stanley Cup on the way.
And he had the beautiful love of his life curled in his bed every night. At least she had him wrapped around her little finger and then some.
The damn asshole had better not complain.
“Why in the fuck do you bother looking at news articles if they put you in a shitty mood? You need to focus on the upcoming game. We can’t lose.” Tyler pushed me out of the way before I snatched his favorite coffee mug, even grabbing the handle of the huge pot I’d made just to shit with me.
“Thanks, Coach. I didn’t know you’d taken on a new role. And I’m always in a pissy mood. Why are you shitting me?” I grinned, even though my proclamation was right.
“Good point, buddy, and someone needs to get your ass in gear. By the way,” he said as he poured a heaping mug. “I thought you and your brother were close.”
Huffing, I leaned my back against the edge of the counter, folding my arms. “We are. I adore him. We’re like this.” I crossedmy index and middle fingers before bending my index, leaving the middle loud and proud in the air. The truth was being outed had created tension between us, beyond our already unhealthy level of competition.
And testosterone.
“Jesus.” He thudded his cup onto the kitchen table, grabbing my iPad. “It’s not like you aren’t in the goddamn newspapers every day yourself.”
“For what? Being a playboy? Breaking a reporter’s jaw? Being the most handsome player in the league? Getting all the hot little puck bunnies my heart could desire?” My tone of voice had changed, becoming the suave one my teammates hated. I even did a little spinning dance move for emphasis.
Tyler just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but also for your incredible skills. When you can hunt them down.”
I must seem completely depressed if he was shifting away from his usual harsh ribbing of my talent. Or as he always told me, lack thereof. Very slowly I turned my head in his direction. I’d lost the edge. I knew it. Hell, everyone knew it.
He could barely contain the smirk. When he burst into laughter, I resisted giving him the two-finger salute this go-around. “Dude. I know you’re jealous of Saint, but your time will come.”
“I’m not jealous of my brother,” I snapped.
He stared at me with clear amusement in his eyes. “Sure.”
“He’s just over the top with everything.” The truth was that I was in his shadow. Here I went feeling sorry for myself again. There was no reason other than I’d been dubbed the bad boy ofthe American Hockey League, second tier to the NHL and not exactly the best moniker for being called up to the NHL.
It also didn’t help I was Saint Masters’ brother or that I was a goddamn wolf man, as so many of the ladies preferred calling me.
“Why don’t we stroke your ego this morning. Again.” He grabbed my iPad and before I could snatch it from his hand, he’d already backed away. Yeah, he knew my passcode. The dude knew almost everything about me, including all the sordid details about being arrested more than once in my youth. Not my finest hours, but stories about the steamy altercations had certainly boosted my reputation.
As he scrolled through various screens on the handheld, I continued grousing. “My guess is you won’t find shit.”
“Ah, here we go. From thePhiladelphia Star.Is Steven ‘The Beast’s’ bark worse than his bite?”
“Oh, come the fuck on. It doesn’t say that and that’s not my nickname.”
“Yeah, that was the exact quote and I don’t think the Puck Bunny Tormenter is something to write home to your mother about. Here’s another one. This one is ugly.”
“What are you talking about?”
He flashed the screen showing me what he was looking at. I had to narrow my eyes to figure it out. “That was a stupid party. I didn’t undress the girl. She just took off her clothes.”
“But that is you sucking Jell-O off her titties. Right? And how about the word written on her stomach? I don’t think the puck bunnies like to be called bitches.”
“We were kidding around, man.”
