The Girl With Hearts (Midtown Brotherhood #1) (13 page)

Her expression turned curious. “What did he say?”

“What didn’t he say?” He gripped the door as he recalled the memory. “Called me a bastard child. Orphan. Made so many ‘I fucked your mother’ jokes I lost count. By the end of the game I had all I could take.”

Her face fell. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to it than you just beating the crap out of him?”

“The chicken shit wouldn’t drop his gloves with me, so I got a five minute major for fighting. He scored with sixty seconds left to win the game.” His heart thudded in his chest at the memory. Even after all these years, it ate at him. “My country lost a chance at a medal because of his mouth, or rather my inability to tolerate it.”

Leila shook her head, her previous annoyance with her ex evident of her face again. It made his heart beat faster. “He still brings it up, doesn’t he?”

“Every damn game.”

She reached over and took his hand, intertwining their fingers. “We need to let it go. He’s a jerk, and he rightly deserves to be punished, but we need to move on.”

“We?”

“Yeah.” She smiled softly. “We can help each other, like a post-Derek support group.”

He laughed. “Will there be meetings? And free food?”

“Maybe, but mostly it will be just us, helping each other try and figure out how to move on.”

He had never considered letting the feud between them go. Probably because he never thought it was possible. But sitting there with her hand in his, her optimistic smile radiating over at him, he realized all the anger he’d felt only moments before was gone.

He squeezed her hand. “That, I can do. Especially if it means you’ll forgive me for my oversight this morning.”

She looked back at the road, her smile evening back out. “I wasn’t angry with you this morning, Henrik.”

“Really? Because it definitely looked that way on my end.” He half laughed.

She glanced back at him, and then removed her hand from his as she started to pull into the parking garage at Madison Square Garden.

“What?” he inquired.

“It’s nothing. Let’s just get you to the doctor. From the look of your face, I suspect we’ll have a lot of time to discuss it later.”

Chapter 17

LEILA’S SURRENDER

As much as Leila hated to hear it, she was correct in her assessment of Henrik’s condition. Not only was his nose fractured, but he had a bone bruise on his cheek, and the swelling caused him to lose peripheral vision in his right eye.

She broke the captain. Officially.

She was utterly devastated. Even on her worst day of hating Henrik, she wouldn’t have wished that on him.

“I’m sorry, Henrik, but I can’t clear you to play tonight.” It was the third time the team physician had expressed the sentiment, but in true Henrik fashion, he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“I have to play tonight. It’s the Kings. Our offense has to be clicking on all cylinders if we want to compete with their front line.”

The doctor’s face turned stern. “I’ve been waving my hand next to your head for the past thirty seconds, and you haven’t even flinched. You can’t play if you can’t see what’s coming at you. You’ll just end up getting hurt worse. Missing one game is better than missing ten.”

Henrik, who sat on the examination table, his feet hanging over the edge like a little kid, put his hands on his knees and huffed. “All right. Fine.”

The doctor gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll let your coach know.”

When the doctor left, Henrik turned around, his shoulders slumping. Miserable. “Well, looks like you were right.”

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, standing.

She made herself walk slowly to him. She wanted to run. Most of all, she wanted to continue to fuss over him and force him to let her take of him.

“It’s just one game.”

“You honestly expect me to believe that after listening to you complain for the past half hour?”

Again, he shrugged. “I had to give it a shot. It’s tradition.”

Hockey players and tradition. They weren’t talking about a ridiculous playoff beard. It was his health, and she hated that he wasn’t taking it seriously. What she hated even more was that she cared that he wasn’t taking it seriously.

“Can I take you home now, or do they need more x-rays?”

“I think they are done prodding me. For now. I just need to stop by and talk to my coach on the way out.”

She nodded, the guilt still eating her alive. A few inches higher and she would have ruined his career.

“Stop it.”

Henrik jumped off the table and grabbed her chin, pulling it around to look up at him. “What?” She instantly darted her eyes back toward the door. Anywhere but at him.

“You’re fretting.” He smiled. “I can see it in your eyes. Stop it.”

How could he read her so easily?

“What if I just ruined your season? The team—”

“The team can survive one game without me,” he interrupted, “so stop worrying. Look on the bright side. At least we’ll have the apartment to ourselves tonight.”

She shot him a look.

“For strictly friend-type activities,” he added. “I hear Scrabble is super fun. Especially with your clothes on.”

She pushed him away to keep from laughing. He made her laugh too easily. “You actually believe Drew will still go to the game and leave us there alone?”

“Of course not.” He grinned. “I meant my apartment. He doesn’t have a key to my apartment. He can’t get in if I don’t let him.”

She smirked, trying not to laugh at the vision he suggested. Drew would beat the door down. Literally. “I would like to see that.”

He grabbed his coat off the examination table and threw his arm around her shoulder. “I’m his big brother. He’s not going to have a choice.”

***

That afternoon, Leila lay on her bed resting while optimistically searching through job listings in the city. Biology majors weren’t exactly in high demand. She lucked into her research assistant job in Newark. She needed something closer to her family, though. Something closer to home. Her phone beeped next to her, and bile rose in her throat. It was probably Derek again.

He’d called three times in the last week. She hadn’t told Henrik that part. He didn’t need to know. He was already too involved, and it would only make it worse. She needed a new number.

She eased over to peek at the screen, pleasantly surprised to see it was only Austin, until she read the message.

Austin: My apartment. Now.

She reluctantly sat up, having a sneaking suspicion what her brother wanted to talk to her about. His practice would have ended a couple hours ago, which meant he knew Henrik wouldn’t be playing in tonight’s game. Henrik might be Drew’s big brother, but she was still Austin’s little sister, and her brother would have something to say about the opportunity Henrik’s injury would provide.

She made her way down the hall and let herself into their apartment. Austin and Henrik sat on the couch, facing each other. Austin looked rather determined, while Henrik just looked guilty. “What’s up?” she asked as casually as possible.

Austin turned to Henrik, waiting expectantly.

“It has been brought to my attention,” Henrik began, shooting a sideways look at his best friend, “that a good, responsible teammate would go to the game tonight, and support his team even if he was on injured reserve.”

Leila looked between the two friends, wondering what kind of conversation they’d had before Austin texted her. She’d never seen them look uncomfortable around each other. “Even if you can barely see to watch the game?” she clarified.

Without looking at Austin, Henrik nodded. “Apparently.”

She gave her brother a knowing look, which implied that she didn’t appreciate his meddling. She got enough of that from Drew.

“It has nothing to do with you,” he stated with an unconvincing grunt.

Shit. Austin was suspicious.

Henrik made a face. A deer in headlights look. Like a man on death row. Austin didn’t notice. He just continued to defend himself. “Henrik here has been pushing for all of us to up our game lately, take our responsibilities more seriously. I merely pointed out that maybe he should practice what he preaches.”

“I only said maybe we shouldn’t go out so much. A little extra rest never hurt anybody,” he complained.

Austin shot him another look. “You stick to your story, and I’ll stick to mine.” He got up and started walking toward his room. “I’m going to go rest up for my game tonight, because, you know, that’s what we do around here now.”

Henrik didn’t respond. He just let his friend walk out. Leila waited until Austin slammed the door to his room. “Did I miss something?”

“Your brother being a pain in my ass? No, I’m pretty sure you caught the full end of it.”

“What was all that stuff about resting?”

Henrik shrugged. “Your brother is overreacting.”

Leila crossed her arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He stood and placed his hand on the small of her back. “Look, I’d rather not discuss it with him in the apartment.”

“Do you think he knows?” she whispered. “About us?”

“No. Trust me, you’d know if he did.”

“How?”

He scooted her through the door. “Because it’d make the news.”

She rolled her eyes at him as he pulled the door shut behind them. Even though they were in the safety of the hallway, he stood close to her, his voice only a whisper between them. “So, since obviously I’m going to the game tonight, why don’t you join me? I bet I can score you a seat up in the box with me.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you scared of my brother?”

“No.”

It was quick. Too quick.

“Oh my God. You’re actually scared of him.”

He clapped his hand over her mouth and moved them further down the hallway. She pulled his hand away, still shocked. “He’s your best friend. You actually think he’d be that upset?”

“You don’t?”

“He might yell a little.”

“A little? I took his little sister’s virginity in a fucking hotel bathroom.”

“Okay,” she amended. “He might yell a lot.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Yelling is what he would do if he knew I hit on you. What I did warrants castration. On national television. With a rusty knife.”

“Now you’re overreacting.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree. You know, with our mouths shut, because he can’t find out. Ever.”

“I agree.” She tried not to laugh at his horrified expression. “He’s already mad at you, though. Why is he upset about the extra rest?”

“It’s nothing.”

She poked him. Hard. “Tell me.”

He glanced nervously down the hall at the closed door. “Come to the game with me,” he tried again.

She opened her mouth to refute, but then he pointed at his poor, swollen eye. “You owe me, remember? Come to the game with me.”

His fingers touched her elbow. It was simple, yet significant. Denying him would be impossible. “Fine,” she sighed, “but only because I want to know what’s going on between you and my brother.”

“Trust me,” he answered with a relieved huff, “I’m still trying to figure it out myself.”

***

Henrik kept his word and got her a seat with him in the Rangers box. Usually, it was reserved for healthy scratches, meaning players who are on the team just in case one of the active players was injured suddenly, like Henrik. The box was relatively empty, only five or six other people, with some management coming in and out between periods.

Henrik could still barely see, even if the swelling had receded since the morning. She frowned every time she looked at him. Even with his injury, he still managed to take her breath away, in that wounded puppy kind of way. Especially when he was dressed up, his crisp, grey dress shirt pressed perfectly. It reminded her too easily of their night together, and she had enough trouble not thinking about it without the added encouragement.

The second period ended, and as everyone started to pile out to take a break, she figured it was the perfect time to ask him about Austin. She leaned over and nudged his elbow. “So, how long are going to avoid my question?”

He smiled, his eyes remaining directed toward the ice below them. “As long as you were going to let me by with it.”

“Well, you’ll have to forgive my curiosity. It’s just you and Austin never fight about anything. What’s going on?”

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. “Austin asked if I wanted to go out last week, and I might have suggested we just go home instead. Now, he’s giving me grief about it every time I turn around.”

“Why? And don’t give me some bullshit excuse. I want the truth.”

The look on his face totally said he wanted to give her a bullshit excuse.

“Austin has this crazy idea that I don’t want to go out because—” He paused, not willing to finish his statement, but she already knew what he would say.

“Because of me?” She watched his reaction, and it was clear in the way he avoided eye contact that she hit the nail on the head. “You’re not going out because of me.”

She mulled that idea over for a second, and the more she thought about it, the more it scared her. They were just supposed to be friends, nothing more, not anything that would only end up complicating her life more.

“I’m going to the restroom,” she blurted out.

Run. Escape. It was always her natural instinct.

Henrik whirled around her, though, and blocked her exit. “Leila, wait. You said you wanted to talk about it, so let’s talk. Don’t leave every time things get tough.”

She stood up a little straighter, her shoulders pulled back. “Henrik, I know you haven’t been out lately, and you haven’t had any girls over since that night I showed up here. I just—” she paused, taking in a calming breath “—you don’t have to deprive yourself for my benefit.”

“I’m not depriving myself,” he bit out, trying to keep his voice down.

“Look, this morning—”

“Do you think that’s what I was doing this morning? Depriving myself and then coming over and hitting on you?”

She stood her ground, though she dropped her voice too. “So, you’ve had sex since that girl I passed getting off the elevator?”

Now she was the one avoiding eye contact. She didn’t want to know. She couldn’t continue to lie to herself if he answered. She would no longer be able to ignore the obvious, which was that he was Henrik.

His finger touched the tip of her chin and tilted it up. “First of all, I didn’t sleep with that girl,” he offered. “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

She barely even heard the words. It couldn’t be true. Nothing he said could actually be true.

“Like I said—you don’t have to do that for my benefit,” she replied, making a poor attempt to be casual.