Page 31 of Ruck Me Harder

That was the excuse I gave him. It would be too messy to date him with our shared connection to his sister.

“Still messy,” I echo, my smile fading.

With him, it’s easy to turn him down. With his brother… my gut churns. Why did he show up to my practice today?

Al shakes his head. “Guess we’re going to have to be friends, then.”

“Yep. Friends.”

There’s no spark, no sizzle. I don’t want to get him naked. I don’t want to know more about him. There’s just… nothing.

“Tony mentioned he went to your practice this morning,” he says, casually sipping his beer.

“Oh?” My heart skips a beat.

“He says you guys are looking good out there.”

He was talking about the team—not me specifically. I try to hide my disappointment.

“Cari’s been playing amazing,” I deflect. “She’s fit into the team perfectly.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

His sister, talking to someone else on her other side, either can’t hear him or isn’t paying attention.

“How’s your brother doing?” Al asks casually.

I lift my eyebrows. “I have three of them.”

He laughs. “The hockey player one. We’re playing Colorado next month. Any intel you can give me?”

“None that you can’t find out from watching his game tape,” I laugh.

That reminds me though—I should probably talk to him. Fuck, I should probably talk to all of my siblings. I don’t keep in touch nearly as often as I should. Only Frankie and Bradley are still in school, with Chuck, Perry, and Janine all scattered about doing professional athletics in different cities.

Firing off a quick text in the sibling group chat, I close my phone and set it on the sticky tabletop.

A few other hockey players have approached while I was distracted. I smile at Robby Andrews, who grew up playing hockey with Chuck and now works as the Grizzlies’ equipment manager. He squeezes my shoulder, dropping a brief kiss to my cheek, as he scoots past our table.

“You and Andrews?” Al asks, nodding toward him.

I shake my head. “Just friends. I’ve known him forever.”

He hums. “So if you’re not interested in me or in Andrews, what’s your type?”

My face heats. “Pass.”

“No pass. Tell me,” he says with a laid-back grin, sinking back into his chair. “We’ll find you someone.”

“I’m not really looking.”

Al laughs. “That’s when you find ‘em.”

“What about you? You looking?”

To my surprise, his sigh is heavy. “Yeah. I’m over the whole hookup scene. I’m ready for what they have.” He nods toward Jake and Rachel, who are making out, and Sven and Vanessa, who are talking quietly with each other, lost in their own little world.

Reaching out, I squeeze his hand. I’m not sure why I feel the need to comfort him. I barely know him. Still, something calls in me to take care of him. He’s too pure for this world.