Page 111 of Hard to Handle

It’s rather crass.

And while it might be true, they sure as hell don’t know it. But they deserve it for razzing me over him. Between the status sheets and the ridiculous comments and innuendos over the past few Monday morning meetings, followed up by texts for juicy details, it’s the least they deserve.

Let them read my comment—no talks, just sex—and I bet they’ll either bombard me with questions . . . or leave me alone.

My dad will think I’m playing them.

My sisters? My bet’s on them leaving me alone.

The question is whether they’ll leave me alone because they think it’s true or because they think I’m pissed.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

HUNTER

“HEY JONAH. HOW ARE YOU, man?”

There’s a quiet response on the other end—an R sound attempted—and even though the tears well in my eyes, a smile widens on my face.

“Can you believe it? The playoffs are next week. Next week. It’s surreal and I don’t know, J, it’s crazy.” I run a hand through my hair and look out the window to where the snow is falling. It looks so peaceful, but I know it’s wreaking havoc for so many. “The Titans are a tough team, but I’ve been studying their films and have their defense and plays mapped in my head, so I think we can do this. You know if we make it to the finals you’ll be there. I don’t care what I have to do.”

And I mean it. I don’t care how much it costs, if I have to bring a traveling medical team . . . he’ll be there.

“There’s something else I want to tell you and I don’t know . . . it’s insane, but, I met this woman. I know. Don’t be too shocked.” I laugh, nervous over why I’m telling him. Torn over making him feel horrible and wanting him—needing him to know and be a part of my life more now than ever. “She’s everything you’d say I don’t deserve, but shit . . . I think she’s actually making me a better person. A better man. I’ve known her for years but not until lately have things really clicked. And God, yes, it’s scary as shit, but it’s also pretty damn awesome to finish a game and be able to shut all the outside noise off because her opinion is all that matters. Her name’s Dekker. Yes, that Dekker who I was having fun with a couple of years ago and who you met at the game, but, dude . . . this is a first for me. I’m at a total goddamn loss. She’s . . . she’s fucking everything and—”

“Hunter?”

“Mom?” I ask, startled and a little pissed at the interruption. “What—”

“What is it you just told your brother?”

“I—uh—why?” I fumble, not ready to tell this to anyone else yet. Shit, I haven’t even told Dekker how I feel about her.

“Because he just got the biggest grin on his face, and I haven’t seen him smile like that in the longest time.” I can hear the elated relief in her voice, and my chest constricts at her words.

“He did?”

“Yes. What did you say?” she asks again.

“Some things are best left between brothers,” I tell her, my own smile widening at the phrase I haven’t used in years.

I hear her quick intake of a breath and know she heard it too.

And maybe, even if only for a second, we can both forget the accident, and I can revel in the knowledge that Jonah grinned about Dekker.

That’s something to me.

When I hang up thirty minutes later and head to training, I couldn’t be in a better mood.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

DEKKER

“WHY IN THE WORLD ARE we here?” I ask Hunter as he glances at me. He’s wiggling a key in what looks like an ancient door lock on a place that hasn’t seen any attention in years.

The parking lot has weeds growing up through its cracks, the paint on the outside of the industrial-looking building is peeling in huge curls, while some spots are in hunks on the ground.

“Come on.”