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I have to walk or I’m going to land my ass in jail for assault.

How dare anyone talk to her like that.

Finding my brother in the hallway toward the bathroom playing tonsil hockey, I knew that’d be the case; it always is with him. I kick him in the shins as I stalk by.

Turns out I’m still pissed from Douche commenting on Britney’s perfect body.

Archer opens his eyes mid-kiss before pulling away. “I’ve got to head out, put my little brother to bed,” he says, mocking me.

He kisses her one last time goodbye, with tongue, before we head past Britney and out of the bar, making our way home.

I’m absolutely pathetic.

I can’t stop thinking about her. I try to blow off steam during the game, but I only feel more riled up after our win. I shower, change clothes, and ask the guys who wants to hit up the bar for drinks tonight.

Just about everyone is in. Whenever we win, it’s hard not to want to celebrate, especially a home game.

“You have to tell me what’s gotten into you?” Archer doesn’t miss a beat as we head into the bar.

Fuck.

“It’s nothing,” I say.

“Nothing doesn’t put a hop and a skip in your step, Myles. You’re giddy as fuck.”

“You’re imagining things, bro. Just soaring from a win.”

“I’m not imagining shit.” He glances at me long and hard, like he’s studying me. “I’d swear by your demeanor you got laid last night. Except we live in the same apartment, and you haven’t brought a girl home in … forever.”

I’ve been meaning to move out, get my own place, now that I’ve got a first-year contract and can afford rent.

But now that I’ve got the job, I’ve been too busy to look around, and quite frankly, I like Archer’s building. It’s nice, upscale, has a lot of perks. Finding out if there’s another apartment free in his building would just get me handed more shit.

Archer and I get along pretty well. We’re half-brothers; turns out our dad must have the hockey gene because we both play a mean game on the ice.

“Does your dick even work, bro?” Archer asks.

“Fuck off. It hasn’t been that long.” The guys from the team are right on my heels. I don’t need them hearing about my non-existent sex life.

“Are you paying for one of those Only Fans girls?” Archer mocks. “Just because you’re not paying me rent doesn’t mean you should be blowing it on porn.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

It’s not like I couldn’t get a girl to hook up with me. I’ve had my fair share of offers lately. And I’m definitely not a virgin. I just don’t give a shit about one-night stands or online hookups.

Right now, my focus is on hockey. Before that, it was on college, and then, making it into the NHL. My priorities have always been hockey before girlfriends. My love life hasn’t been overly active, but I’ve worked hard to achieve my dreams, and girlfriend has been at the bottom of that list.

I step inside. It’s a Thursday night and the place is crawling. There’s also no sign of her at Blue Line.

My teammates pile in behind me, heading straight for our usual table in the back, while I head to the bar to start our order.

Archer is practically glued to me tonight. “You do know you don’t have to marry the next girl you sleep with, right? You could just have a fling. Even friends with benefits, if you’re so inclined.”

I glare at him. “I’m aware of how all of it works. I don’t need lessons from my big brother.” And what’s with all the questions?

It’s evident Britney isn’t here tonight.

Bummer.