Page 1 of He Has It All (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Prologue
As soon as I walk in the frat house door, the whistles and shouts start. High fives, slaps on the back from the guys, and kisses and hugs—and grabs for my pants and shirt—from the ladies. Like I’m a rock star except I’m not. And no, this isn’t a dream, it’s real. But it’s been my dream for a long, long time.
“Congratulations, man,” Tim says. “The team had to throw you a party. A kick-ass send-off to the NHL.” He’s a friend and teammate, and the only other guy from the Boston College hockey team with a chance to make it to the pros, even if it’s in a European league. He punches my shoulder, grinning. The BC Eagles banner is hung across the balcony railing.
“This is great.” I’m grinning back, taking it all in and feeling proud and touched until Tiffany, his girlfriend, throws herself at me and I have to peel her off, yet again. Tim laughs.
“She’s been drinking, man. You know how she gets.”
I give him a tight smile and hope my discomfort doesn’t show because I know it’s not about the drinks. She’s slipped me her room key on more than one occasion this past season and I’ve had to force it back into her hand and send her on her way. Hell, one night she came knocking on my door at two a.m. I happened to be with another girl. I think that’s the only reason she went away. I’m damn lucky she’s not into threesomes and even luckier my roommate didn’t hear her. Though Levi Brown, my best friend and the smartest guy I know, would have understood the score.
Tim? Not so sure he would be as understanding. Correction. I’m a hundred percent fucking certain that Tim would not understand and would attempt to kick the shit out of me if he ever found out his girl had the hots for me.
As I push through the crowd shaking hands, another teammate gives me a beer, so I take it. Gotta be careful where your drinks are coming from. Someone yells, “Let’s party!” and the music starts up.
Looking over the crowd in the living room to find someone I wouldn’t mind dancing with, my gaze stops and I’m frozen for a blink.It can’t be.
What the fuck is my kid sister’s best friend—the little girl next door—doing at a BC hockey party? Chelsea Wilde. Jason’s little sister.Fuck. But the enthusiasm of the party, the well-wishes and smiles around me, prevent me from thinking about Jason right now.
He’s gone. And there’s nothing I can do about it but look out for his kid sister Chelsea She’s the last person I expect to see here, especially without my sister Maggie—who should be here with her new boyfriend—my fucking best friend Levi. But they’re off to Nantucket together to work for the summer. The idea of anger floats around in my head while I watch Chelsea with a couple of young girls I don’t know, all of them looking lost.
But I can’t feel the anger because my man Levi is awesome and so is Maggie and they deserve each other. As long as no one gets hurt. Speaking of which, I see one of the nastiest players on campus hitting on Chelsea and she’s smiling.Shit.
It’s my promise to Jason that kicks in my protective instincts, that has me intervening, nothing else. Not the fact that she’s grown into one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen—and that’s saying a lot since I’ve spent the last four years sampling every eligible woman my age in the greater Boston area. And Chelsea—even if she looks like a top modeling prospect—is not one of the eligible ones. Rude reminder to my hot cock as I head in her direction. She should stick to playing volleyball. What the hell is she doing here besides attracting trouble?
Chelsea is a naive tomboy underneath the hot packaging she’s advertising tonight and I wonder who put her up to dressing up. Those girls she’s with? Never mind.
“Get lost, Banger. Chelsea is here with me.” I nudge him aside when he doesn’t respond quick enough.
“Ryan. Wow,” she says, looking surprised and way too pleased.
I can’t have her getting the wrong idea—she’s like my kid sister. So I say, “He’s a jerk. You’re too young to know the difference. Stick with me.”
Putting an arm around her, I move with her through the crowd onto the makeshift dance floor that’s just the dining room with all the furniture shoved against the walls.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she says.
“Why not? I didn’t expect to seeyouhere. Weren’t you just in the Olympics? Congratulations on that, by the way.” It’s cool that she went to the Olympics and it makes me proud like I would be if she were my sister. Because she may as well be.
She shrugs and blushes. Someone shoves her into me so our faces are almost touching. She’s fucking tall—taller than I remember. But I haven’t seen her much in the past few years since I’ve been at BC. Not that it’s far from our neighborhood in Charlestown, but hell, I’ve been busy and only get home for holidays and to visit with Gramps. Not likely to run into the girl next door much.
“And you made it to the NHL—to the Boston Brawlers. That’s amazing.”
“I know, right?” Although there wasn’t a doubt in my mind I’d make it to the NHL, playing for my hometown team is a special dream come true and I’m fucking psyched about it.
We scuff along the sticky floor while the song is slow.
“So what are you doing here?” I ask.
“I’m here for orientation. Didn’t Maggie mention that I’m going to BC too?”
“It figures.” Maybe she did mention it but I didn’t pay close attention. “You two are like conjoined twins.”
She nods. “I missed her last year while I was away—it was the only downside to being in the Olympics—that and the fact that we didn’t win a medal.”
“Still, it must have been an experience. The family—especially Maggie—talked about it—bragged about you to everyone.”
She aims her face, framed by tousled blond curls, up at me, her green eyes too innocent and too playful at the same time, like some hot angel specifically designed to torture men. Or maybe it’s just me she’s torturing.
