The Girl With Hearts (Midtown Brotherhood #1) (4 page)

Her voice was weak. She had circles forming under her eyes.

He’d been too focused on himself and what he wanted even to take the time to realize she hadn’t come for him.

What girl traveled with just one half-empty bag? No girl did that.

He felt like an idiot. Leila came to him for help, and for the second time in a row, he screwed it up.

She tugged her black bag tighter around her back and stepped past him to the door. Her cheeks flushed a brazen red, her breathing unsettled as she paused at the threshold. Slowly, she turned back, her green eyes intense with her internal battle.

“I can’t take another second of watching you walk around in the shadow of your own stupidity,” she said. “It’s time you woke up and realized there is more to the world than what lands at the end of your dick.” She took a moment to catch her breath, indecision flashing across her face before she continued. “Your brother is gay.”

That same look captured her eyes again, the soft glow she reserved just for Drew. “He’s not in love with me. He never has been. We hung out so much because I was the only person he trusted enough to tell the truth. So, no, I really doubt he’s enjoying that date you forced him to go on.”

She shot him one more long, pointed stare before she slammed the door in his face.

Gay. She definitely just said Drew was gay.

Henrik stood there, and then stood there some more. His brain was suddenly on information overload, and his hormones blocked his ability to process it at a socially acceptable rate.

Drew told him he didn’t want to go on the date. He told him he didn’t understand his type. He needed to stop trying to help.

Henrik collapsed. His hands covered his face.

Shit. Drew was gay.

He blinked back tears and guilt. Of course Drew was gay.

His world catapulted upside down, or maybe it righted itself for the first time.

Of course. Drew. How the hell did he miss that?

He was officially the worst big brother in existence. If that wasn’t enough, all the things Leila accused him of being all these years were actually true. Years’ worth of her unrelenting comments flooded his mind. Maybe he really was a self-serving, narcissistic jerk.

Chapter 4

HENRIK’S ADVICE

The following morning Henrik sat alone in the locker room at Madison Square Garden. The first to arrive for practice, he already had his gear and skates on. He needed a quiet place to think, to make some attempt to sort through the thousands of thoughts streaming through his clouded head. He leaned back against the wall beneath his locker and stared at the empty room, which would soon be bustling with energy.

The rows of neatly stacked sticks and tape, the sounds of skates being sharpened to exact measurement, and the empty bins, which in just a few short hours would be filled with the foulest smelling laundry in existence. This was his life; it always had been, since he was old enough to walk.

Eat. Sleep. Hockey.

It was the mantra he lived his life by, and occasionally—or, well, frequently—he added girls into that equation. However, since last night, he’d been forced to deviate from that mind track. He suddenly had so much more to consider.

“Oh,” a bewildered voice echoed through the empty room. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here yet.”

Samuel O’Dell, the latest rookie on his team, stood in front of his locker with his headphones around his neck. He must have been singing, going by the sheepish look plastered on his face, but as usual, Henrik had apparently been so wrapped up in himself he hadn’t noticed.

“What are you doing here this early?” he asked Sam, trying to make an authentic attempt at conversation. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spoken to Sam off the ice.

“Coach wants me to work on my slap shot for the power play in case I need to fill in for Callen one night,” Sam explained. He set his bag down next to his locker, studying Henrik intently. “What are
you
doing here this early?”

He sat up a little straighter, rubbing his hand down his face, considering his answer. Instead, he asked, “Do you think I’m selfish?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, caught off guard by the question. “Umm, no. I mean, you led the Eastern Conference in assists last year. You’re like the least selfish player I know.”

He shook his head, letting Sam know he’d misunderstood his question. “I wasn’t talking about on the ice. I meant like here in the locker room. Am I selfish?”

Sam didn’t answer.

Bad sign.

“You can be honest. I’m looking for a reality check, here.”

Sam rubbed his hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair, a nervous habit. Henrik knew he didn’t want to insult his captain, but he obviously had something to say. “Hell, I don’t know. You’re usually out of the locker room right after the games, and you only hang out with Austin.”

He felt his mouth go slack. “I hang out with more guys than Austin.”

It wasn’t until he read Sam’s expression that he realized his tone was harsh. He sucked in a breath, calming his natural instinct to argue, and held his hands up in surrender. “I apologize. Please, continue.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sam rushed, “you’re an amazing captain. When we’re on the ice, and especially at practice, you always give the best advice. I’ve already learned so much from just the things you yell at me in passing out there.”

“But—”

“But when we’re not on the ice—”

“I’m a selfish asshole.”

Sam winced.

“It’s all right Sam. It’s the truth.”

Sam looked apologetic. “You’re still a good captain.”

As if that somehow made being a shitty person okay. It wasn’t okay. None of it was okay.

He stood, stretching out his muscles. Sam continued to study him as he hung up his gear. “That the only thing bothering you?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss it yet, or even if he should, but Leila’s words kept running through his mind. The more he considered it, her accusations were right on point. There was more to the world than his datebook, and as he looked over at Sam’s youthful, expectant face, he was instantly reminded of Drew. His heart sank a little at the thought of his brother, and everything he’d endured in silence, especially the past year, just because he was too self-involved to notice.

It was time he started to give a little effort, he decided, and he would start with Sam. “How about I moan about it while I help you with that slap shot?”

“Really?” Sam sounded utterly shocked by the offer, which only made Henrik feel worse.

How the hell did an inconsiderate bastard like him manage to become captain?

“Yes, really,” he sighed. “Get suited up, and I’ll meet you out on the ice.”

Fifteen minutes later, he skated next to Sam as they made loops around the goal, and then figure eights down the middle of the ice to warm up. After his muscles started to burn, he slowed and motioned for Sam to come down toward the goal. He spent the next half hour giving Sam his undivided attention while he taught him the secret to a deadly slap shot. After a round of shots hitting directly on target, Sam turned to him, smiling triumphantly. “All right, now it’s your turn.”

“You sure you want to listen to my troubles?”

“Entertain me,” Sam instructed, skating away to retrieve the pucks he’d shot.

He propped his chin on the top of his stick, considering where he would even begin. “Have I ever introduced you to my little brother?”

As the words left his mouth, he realized he should already know the answer to that question. He should have introduced them by now, but that was another problem for a different day.

“I’ve seen him around once or twice.” Sam nodded. “He comes to most of the games.”

“That’s because he lives next door to me,” he explained. “I pay his rent, so he can focus on paying off his student loans. At least, that’s the argument I used to get him to New York. Mostly, I just wanted to keep an eye on him.”

Sam laughed. “Isn’t he just a couple years younger than you?”

“Yes,” he said, sighing. “But he was only twelve when we moved here from Sweden, and even though he’s an adult now, I still feel responsible for him.”

Sam nodded, casually shooting pucks back toward his feet. “That’s only natural.”

“Is it also natural to mistake his sexuality, and ruin his life?”

Sam, absently practicing his handling skills, dropped the puck off the end of his stick. “What?”

“My brother is gay,” he explained. “I had no idea.”

“And you have a problem with that?”

“No. That’s the thing,” he replied quickly. “I have no problem with it whatsoever. I’ve taken care of the kid my whole life. I’ve done everything for him. I don’t fucking care if he’s gay. My problem is I found out last night from someone else.” He collected a few pucks and lined them up for Sam, frustrated as he tried to organize his thoughts. “Now that I think back, I realize Drew’s been trying to tell me for years, and I just never took the time to listen to him.”

“Well, it’s not too late to talk to him about it,” Sam suggested.

“Maybe,” he sighed, “if he doesn’t hate me by now.”

“You’re his brother. I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

He looked skeptically at Sam. “I set him up on no less than twelve dates last year. All women.”

Sam half laughed. “Okay, so maybe you should buy him a gift. You know, smooth things over.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure I’d just screw that up too.”

He took a hard shot at the goal, his annoyance with own actions evident. Sam must have noticed as well. “Is that the only thing bothering you? Because I honestly believe that once you talk to your brother, everything will be fine. He obviously wanted you to know, and since you’re cool with it, shouldn’t everything be good?”

He smirked at Sam as he began to practice his slap shot again. “You’re perceptive, kid.”

“So, stop avoiding the question, and just tell me your real problem.”

He thought for a long moment, unsure if it was a wise idea to confess such a secret, but it might be good to finally get it off his chest. “Well, I guess you could say I’m having a girl problem.”

Sam froze mid-swing and stood up to gawk over at him in disbelief. “You? Girl problems? What is it? Too many dates and not enough days of the week?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“All right, let’s hear it, then.”

He studied Samuel, deciding whether or not he should even speak it out loud. More importantly, should he risk Austin finding out about his indiscretion? It would mean the end of their friendship, he was certain of it. He hadn’t been joking with Leila when he said guys had rules about sisters. “I slept with one of my friend’s family members,” he stated slowly, analyzing how it sounded.

Sam’s eyes rounded to the size of saucers. “You slept with Austin’s sister?”

“What? No. I didn’t say Austin.” He panicked, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. “I definitely didn’t mention his sister.”

“Oh, c’mon, Henrik. It’s blatantly obvious your only real friend is Austin, and trust me, I’ve seen his sister. I met her at the Devils game a while back. She is like ‘oh my God’ kind of hot.”

“It’s not Austin’s sister,” he insisted, but there was an edge to his voice.

“Okay.” Sam gave him a teasing wink. “For the purpose of this conversation, we’ll pretend it is not Austin’s sister.”

He eyed him, but Sam just continued to smile back at him. “So, what’s the deal? Are you afraid your friend, who isn’t Austin, will find out about it and never forgive you?”

Henrik’s scowl covered his entire face. He couldn’t believe he was so transparent. “I guess that’s part of it. It’s just a lot more complicated than I originally planned. Honestly, I thought we’d hook up, go our separate ways, and on the occasion when we did run into each other, it would be something I teased her about. Like—you remember that time we hooked up in the bathroom at the Regency in Newark?”

Sam smirked. “The bathroom at the Regency, huh? Classy.”

“Yeah, well, it gets worse, smart ass.”

Suddenly intrigued, Sam spun around, his expression expectant.

“She was a virgin,” he said reluctantly, knowing how horrible it made him sound.

“Wait a second,” Sam tried, but stopped to give himself a moment. “You took your best friend’s little sister’s virginity in a bathroom at a hotel in Newark.” Sam was starting to look like he finally understood why he was having a bad day. “Oh, Austin is so going to kick your ass!”

“Damn it, rookie. Keep your voice down.”

“Sorry,” he said, wincing. “But it’s true.”

“Yeah, well, I’d deserve it.”

And Henrik meant it. He was the last person who should have received that honor. He was honest enough to admit that even if he had known, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference, but he would have done things differently. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, but it definitely wouldn’t have included the bathroom wall.

“Maybe Austin won’t ever find out,” Sam offered. “If she lives in Newark, it’s not like you’ll run into her that often.”

Henrik laughed, though he wasn’t amused. “Oh, did I mention how she showed up at our apartment last night?”

Sam stopped what he was doing, his voice sympathetic. “Yep. You’re screwed. And not in the good ‘virgin in the bathroom at the Regency’ kind of way either.”

Henrik playfully smacked him on the back of the head with his blade. “No shit, Sherlock,” he growled. “She obviously needs help after her breakup with her boyfriend, or my apartment would have definitely been the last place she would have shown up. I don’t know how to be that kind of guy, though.”

“What? The helpful kind? The ‘show concern for someone other than yourself’ kind?”

The look he shot Sam could have set water on fire. “Sorry,” Sam conceded. “Go on.”

“I don’t know how to be there for her and not make it obvious that something happened between us.”

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “That’s easy. Just be her friend. Do something nice for her.”

“Friend?” He was sure he looked as confused as he felt. “Something nice?”

“I know that might be a foreign notion to a guy who dates more girls than there are ice cream flavors, but it’s an actual, socially acceptable concept.”

He scrunched up his nose at the thought. He’d been Leila’s acquaintance, her opposition, and most recently her lover, but he wasn’t quite sure if friend could be added to that list. It didn’t sound horrible, though he was pretty sure friendship didn’t involve trading sexual favors, but he didn’t know if he was capable of it. Besides, she hated him.

“You look like I just advised you to swallow a celibacy pill,” Sam said with a laugh. “I’m not suggesting you swear off all women. Just the one.”

He knew that. In fact, Leila probably expected him to continue his playboy lifestyle, but it didn’t sound that exciting anymore. At least, not with the prospect of Austin going Lorena Bobbitt on him at the first hint of his betrayal.

“Henrik,” Sam whispered, “you don’t have, you know, feelings for her, do you?”