Fucking Nick standing far too close to Selena, smiling at her like he hadn’t had his face broken for doing the same thing not too long ago. And he was holding a jersey. Was he trying to get her to wear his number? An incredulous scoff left me.
I strolled closer, my anger toward Nick simmering.
Selena glanced up and saw me approaching.
“Don’t let me interrupt. It looked like riveting stuff,” I drawled, reaching Selena’s side.
She rolled her eyes. “I’d tell him not to be a dick, but it just comes naturally to him,” she said to Nick.
“Yeah, so I’m starting to see.” Nick shot me a displeased glare.
“So, what are you guys talking about, or is it a secret?”
Selena quickly shook her head. “No, we were just talking about being friends, and uh—hey!”
I’d bent and lifted Selena over my shoulder, making her cry out.
“I’m sorry, heathen. I want to hear all about this new BS attempt to sidle up to you, but I don’t have time.”
“Where are you taking her?” Nick called, annoyance oozing from his barely restrained tone.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tossed back at him. “She’s not yours to worry about.”
I carried Selena down the hall toward the locker room.
“Hey,” Selena said and tapped me on the shoulder. “Maniac. Care to explain yourself?”
“Close your eyes. We’re going in,” I warned her before pushing into the locker room.
Luckily, since it was just an interval, there weren’t any players stripping off. In fact, they were disappearing out the other door, the one that led to the rink. Time was running out.
“Brody!” Selena protested.
I lowered her carefully to the bench in front of my locker and opened it, digging around inside my bag.
“What is your problem?” she demanded and then cut off when I tugged her to her feet. “You wanted me to come to your game, I’m here?—”
“Yes, you are. Good girl,” I murmured, enjoying the flash of fire in her eyes.
“But you’re not wearing the right thing, and I can’t concentrate on anything else.”
I tugged her jacket off her shoulders, then slid my hands under the hem of her oversized T-shirt and up her abdomen. The underlayer she always wore was smooth and cold, and I wanted nothing more than to feel her skin against my fingers.
“Don’t tell me you made a huge scene over a jersey,” Selena muttered as I threaded her arms through my spare jersey.
“Not just a jersey. My number and my name… emblazoned on your back. That’s worth making a scene over.”
She shook her head. “What would Daddy say?”
“I’ll just tell him you were acting out and I was disciplining you. He put me in charge of you, remember?”
She rolled her eyes again. I got the jersey settled and used it to pull her into me.
“Besides, you not wearing my number is distracting. This is in the best interest of the team.”
“Right. I might be the one in the play, but you’re the drama queen, Brody Sinclair.”
I pinched her cheek, and she swatted my hand away.
