The Girl With Hearts (Midtown Brotherhood #1) (6 page)

Chapter 7

LEILA’S GAME

The rink was chilly and musty, a familiarity Leila had grown to love. It was either learn to love it, or spend her entire childhood in misery. She’d seen every ice-covered piece of property in the western hemisphere over the years. A revolving door of teammates who all looked the same. Nameless faces that changed every season. Austin skyrocketed through the ranks so fast she stopped trying to remember the name of the team, let alone his friends.

Then, freshman year of college, it all changed. She spent the entire morning studying for her first mid-term, because she promised Austin she would attend his game that afternoon. She hadn’t been to any of his college games, since living five hundred miles away had been an acceptable excuse, but now that she was on campus, her brother expected his biggest fan to make an appearance.

So she had thrown on a jacket, grabbed a book off her shelf, and started across campus to the rink. It started off as any other night of hockey. She found a seat center ice, across from the home team bench, propped her feet up, and prepared to enjoy two hours of reading and random cheering, depending on if Austin was having a good night.

The team hit the ice, a blur of green helmets and cage masks. She spotted Austin and waved in her customary fashion. It wasn’t until halfway through warm-ups that a different player caught her attention.

She was reading when she heard someone frantically yelling in her direction. “Heads up!”

She put her book down just in time to see a puck clang off the metal seat in front of her, and miss her face by mere inches. “Sorry about that,” the same voice called out, though it hadn’t sounded apologetic in the least. She turned around to watch the guilty player remove his helmet.

Henrik Rylander.

She had no idea who he was at the time, only that he was breathtakingly gorgeous in that ‘make you drool like an idiot’ kind of way. It was before the tattoos and the Armani suits. He was just a bright-eyed, overgrown kid, with a smile so charismatic she immediately forgot he’d come two inches from giving her a concussion. His smile widened, and she realized too late that she was gawking instead of responding like a normal person.

“It’s okay,” she finally managed, feeling a blush flush her cheeks. “I mean—I’m fine.”

“Good.” He grinned, already skating backward toward the goal. “Maybe you should watch the game instead of your book.” He winked at her, and a lump formed in her throat.

She tried desperately hard to read her book that night, but Henrik was a constant distraction. A six-three center, he was faster than any she’d seen play, and he had three assists, two of which were to Austin, by the end of the second period. She’d been mesmerized by Henrik that night, and as she glanced around the rink at Madison Square Garden, her heart racing in her chest, she was beginning to think maybe nothing had really changed.

“Are you ready for your lecture?”

Leila turned in her seat to look at Drew, who eyed her suspiciously. They sat fifth row, straight across from the Rangers bench. She’d caved and gone to the game after Drew spent the entire evening begging and coercing her with promises of ice cream and popcorn.

Junk food was her Achilles heel. It had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to watch Henrik play. Not even a little bit.

“Which one, professor?” Leila groaned, knowing what would come next.

Drew wouldn’t be happy about the egg situation. Drew was her best friend, but better yet, he knew Henrik’s exploits better than anyone else. He would put up a fight against any kind of favorable behavior Henrik displayed toward her.

He was a milder, less volatile version of Austin. Equally as annoying when he wanted to be, though.

Drew glared at her as he set the box of popcorn between them. “The one that states emotional, vulnerable best friends of mine should not be hanging out with this best friend’s promiscuous, it’s-not-going-to-make-you-feel-any-better brother.”

She snorted, but not for the reason Drew thought. At one point she actually considered admitting to Drew that his lecture was too late, but she didn’t want to cause a disturbance in the middle of a game.

Making the highlight reel would be embarrassing.

“You act as if I don’t know Henrik at all,” she told him instead, trying to avoid eye contact. Drew was exceptionally perceptive when it came to her, especially when she was in distress, and right now, her life was absolutely catastrophic.

“Oh, I know you know him. It’s just—he has ways of making girls forget the things they know.” He shot her a knowing look that was almost accusatory.

“Really?” she asked with a smirk. “Do tell.”

Drew threw his elbow into her side, unamused.

“I’m just kidding.” She laughed, because again, she knew the answer to that all too well now. Henrik’s talents far outreached just those he displayed at the rink. A thought that continued to haunt her every time she closed her eyes.

“Well, I’m being serious. He made you eggs this morning, Leila. You actually believe he did that out of the goodness of his heart?” He turned all the way around in his seat, the neck of his oversized jersey drooping over his shoulder. She smiled back at him.

Drew was a miniature version of his brother, a little more polished and less battle worn from years of hockey. She knew her friend was trying to look out for her, and she appreciated it more than she could say.

“Let me answer that for you,” he continued gruffly. “No. I love that idiot more than anyone, but when it comes to girls, my brother doesn’t have a heart. He’s like the Tin Man.”

“Do you actually believe an egg sandwich can make me forget I hate him?” she asked, patting his hand, which lay on the armrest between them.

“It’s what’s attached to the egg sandwich that causes the memory loss. Trust me. I share those genetics. I know the power they hold.”

“Speaking of that—” she began, trying a different approach, “—you should know the walls are paper thin at your place, which means I can totally hear the game you’ve been laying down the past couple of nights.”

Drew scowled at her. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Yes.” She smiled ruefully at him. “I’m changing the subject. Now, what is his name? And when do we get to meet him?”

Drew turned back around, crossing his arms over his chest, focusing his attention on the ice. “The game is about to start.”

This time it was her turn to interrogate. “I don’t think so, buddy. You do not get to sit here and lecture me, and then turn tail and ignore me when I ask you a question. Now, what is his name?”

“The relationship is new.” He sighed, glancing over at her. “And you guys are intrusive, judgmental, and not to mention about ten different types of crazy. I’ll tell you his name at the wedding.”

“We are not crazy,” she pouted, chucking a couple pieces of popcorn at him.

“So just intrusive and judgmental, then?”

She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie. It was true about all of them. Somehow, without even realizing it, they’d become this sort of misfit family over the years, tighter than any exclusive club, and it caused them to be extremely protective of each other. Entrance to their inner circle wasn’t given lightly. It was earned.

Derek never stood a chance, not with the two-headed beast that was Drew and Austin analyzing his every move. Not that it would have worked out anyway. Their relationship had been doomed way before Derek fabricated his first boys’ night out scheme.

It only made sense for Drew to be wary of opening himself up to the same scrutiny that ran off every guy who ever looked in her direction. “Well, you’re one to talk,” she scolded him playfully.

“Hey,” he laughed, “I at least tried with Derek. I even pretended to be nice to him the last time I saw him.”

“And the thirty times before that?”

“I was tolerable toward him,” he said, then smirked. “Most of the time.”

“He deserved it.”

The lights went out, the regular pregame introductions started, and they stood up with the rest of the rowdy crowd, allowing the energetic atmosphere to consume them. “You won’t tell Henrik I’m dating someone, will you?” Drew yelled above the crowd.

“Of course not.”

“It’s not that I’m intentionally hiding it from him, because if he asked, I wouldn’t lie. However, this is Henrik—”

“He’s too concerned with his own shit to even think to ask—” she finished for him.

“Pretty much.”

“Look—” she placed her arm around her best friend’s shoulder, pulling him toward her “—I won’t ruin your next brotherly bonding moment. I officially have a leash on my blabbermouth. Just promise me that I can be there when you finally tell him.”

“You better be there,” he instructed, his eyes growing dark. “You’re not running off anymore. These past two years without you felt like ten. This is your home. We are your family. You belong here with us.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, sighing. He had no idea how much she needed to hear that right now.

The game started, and both Austin and Henrik seemed to be having a good night, but that was usual for them. They always excelled when they played together, which was why Leila got the pleasure of watching them win two national titles while in college. They’d been separated during the draft, Henrik going to Calgary in the first round, and Austin coming to New York in the early second. It didn’t take long for Austin to work his way up from the fourth line, and when he became the Rangers leading scorer, he made the request for a leading assist man in the league. That spring, the management traded for Henrik just before the trade deadline, and the Rangers made it all the way to the conference finals that year.

She smiled as she watched her brother and Henrik speed down the ice next to each other. To think, the day she watched them graduate, she actually thought she’d seen the last of Henrik Rylander. Drew leaned over and whispered in her ear as the crowd jumped to their feet after a great save by the goalie. “Seriously, Leila. What’s going on between you two?”

Leila turned, confused. “Between who?”

“Between you and Mr. Can’t Focus On The Game over there.” Drew gestured, pointing toward the ice.

Henrik, first in the long line of players sitting on the bench after their line change was the only one not watching the game. No, Henrik looked directly across the ice at her. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment.

“I know all of Henrik’s looks,” Drew explained, his gaze contemplative. “That one, I don’t recognize.”

“You’re reading too much into it,” she tried, but she had to admit, she didn’t recognize it either. It was intense and analytical, making her wonder if maybe he was simply trying to figure out the same thing she was right now.

What the hell was she doing here?

Not just at the game, but in New York in general. Was she running away, or making a pathetic attempt to move on? Either way, she was failing at both. She dropped his gaze, afraid he might see the truth in hers, not that it wasn’t painfully obvious. She was an erratic mess who didn’t have a clue. She was pretty sure everyone knew by now.

Chapter 8

HENRIK’S GIFT

Henrik rubbed a tired hand over his face, frustrated by the usual media scrum surrounding him at his locker after the game. He’d shot the overtime winning goal, so unfortunately, that meant he was the hot commodity for an interview. He’d asked them to repeat the same question twice, because he was too busy thinking about Leila to pay attention.

She’d come to the game.

He knew Drew planned to drag her out of the apartment one way or another, but he wanted to think it had something to do with their conversation earlier that day. He wasn’t sure why he cared, but he did. There was no point lying to himself about it. For some unfathomable reason he wanted her there tonight. He’d felt it as soon as he spotted her, that rush of adrenaline hitting his system. It usually only happened after a goal, or right before a fight, but tonight all it took was her presence. It was very similar to how he felt that night after opening his hotel room door to find her standing there all leggy and vulnerable, scowling at him.

He wasn’t willing to let that sensation go quite yet. It made him feel alive, or maybe it just made him feel something. Either way, he wanted more. Craved it.

He graciously waved off the remaining questions and made a beeline for the showers. It was the fastest exit he’d made from the locker room in years, and even then, he was too late. As he walked out of the door toward the waiting area for family and friends, only Drew stood waiting for him.

The disappointment must have been evident on his face, because his brother glared at him. “Nice to see you too,” Drew scoffed, a tight frown on his boyish face.

“Where is she?”

“Austin is showing her around. They’re going to meet us at O’Riley’s.”

“All right. Let’s go.” He slung his bag over his shoulder, and that’s when Drew noticed it. The puck clenched in his hand. Drew grabbed his wrist, turning his palm over to reveal the tape around the side that showed the date and score of the game.

“Is that what I think it is?” Drew inquired, the accusation obvious.

“I hit the game-winning shot in overtime,” he explained casually, but he could already tell his brother saw through his façade.

“You’ve hit loads of game-winning shots, but I don’t see hockey pucks commemorating them anywhere. What were you planning on doing with that one?”

He scowled.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Indictment was thick in his tone as they squared off toward each other.

“What?” he asked, offended.

“A game puck? Cliché much?” Drew’s jaw was clenched tight, and it was obvious it had gone past mere annoyance now. “You’re one of the hottest bachelors in New York, and definitely the most accomplished at it. Do you think I’m going to step back and say ‘go for it, tiger’?”

“It’s just a hockey puck, Drew. It’s not like I bought her a bouquet of condoms.”

“I don’t want to have to keep telling you this,” Drew warned, bringing himself up to look him dead in the eye. “I don’t want your pucks or your eggs anywhere near her.”

Drew gave him one more daring stare before turning around to stalk off. Unwilling to concede, he waited until Drew was about five feet away before taking aim and hitting the wall just in front of him with the puck.

Gaping, his brother whirled around, but before he could say anything, he had him under the arm, dragging him back so they could have a private conversation while his other teammates started piling out of the locker room.

“Why are you trying to—?”

“Cock block you?” Drew interjected, jerking himself away.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say!”

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do,” Drew shot back. “I thought I made myself very clear. She’s my best friend. You’re not pulling your usual bullshit on her.”

He was absolutely bewildered, mostly because Drew didn’t have a clue. Giving Leila a puck wasn’t part of his usual tactics. Hell, he didn’t need tactics, or lines, for that matter. He simply showed up, or invited them over, and well, that was it.

Game over.

Score one for the home team.

That may have been his original desire when she showed up, but it hadn’t been what he thought when they handed the puck to him during their post-game roundtable.

“I’m just trying to be nice to the girl, all right?”

“In order to get in her pants,” Drew finished. “C’mon, I’ve seen you run game a million times, and it’s never been because you wanted a new friend.”

“You know what—fuck you, Drew.”

He was furious. He didn’t deserve an actual shot with Leila, but constantly throwing it in his face, and then not even trusting his word, was starting to push the limit with his patience.

“Honestly, Henrik, I don’t mean to sound so cruel—”

“Then just stay out of it.”

“Normally, I would. You and I both know Leila would be the first in line to kick your ass if you tried something on her,” he said simply. “But that isn’t the Leila we know right now. Whatever happened between her and Derek was bad. She’s hurting, and I can’t be sure she’s in the appropriate state of mind to make rational decisions.”

“Hooking up with me being an irrational decision,” he stated for clarification. When Drew didn’t respond, he merely continued. “Look, everyone knows Leila hates me, for whatever psycho reason girls make up. I know that, all right? I also know she’s your best friend, and she’s my best friend’s sister. So, it doesn’t matter how much I despise the prick who screwed her over, I’m not trying to get back at him by getting in her pants. So please believe me when I say I’m not trying to sleep with her.”

“Then what
are
you doing?”

That brought him up short. He stared, dumbfounded, at his little brother like he’d just asked him an unsolvable equation. “I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “But whatever it is, I’m doing it with good intentions.”

That was the truth, and it was as far as he had allowed himself to think it through. He just wanted to give her the puck in the hope it would make her smile.

Drew’s mouth opened to respond when footsteps echoed behind him, and Austin yelled down the corridor at them. “Hey, there’s the man of the hour!”

Henrik turned to see Austin and Leila walking back toward them down the hall. “Thanks,” he replied, effectively ignoring Drew, who muttered warnings at him under his breath. “I thought we were meeting you at O’Rileys.”

“I forgot my keys,” Austin announced, setting his bag down. “You guys can go ahead if you want. Leila and I will catch up.”

“Okay,” Drew agreed eagerly, but Henrik rolled his eyes at him.

“No, that’s all right. We’ll wait.”

Drew was only trying to keep him as far away from Leila as possible. He’d already lost that battle. However, Drew had effectively ruined his good mood, so now he would make him regret allowing his faith in him to slide so easily.

“All right, I’ll be right back,” Austin said before running back into the locker room, leaving him alone with Drew and Leila.

“I’m glad to see you made it tonight,” he told her, pretending Drew wasn’t shooting daggers at him as he stepped closer to her.

Damn, she smelled good. Familiar. Lilacs.

“Well, it’s not like Drew gave me much of a choice.” She smiled, eyeing her friend with annoyed appreciation. She leaned toward him and whispered as if it were a secret. “He bribed me with junk food.”

He smiled, and it wasn’t the fake kind he normally used when talking to girls. No, this smile was completely genuine. He couldn’t contain it, not when she made so much effort to look exceptionally ordinary. She’d left her long sheath of red hair down and sported one of Austin’s oversized jerseys in an attempt to blend in with the regular crowd.

Blending in wasn’t possible for someone like her. Even without trying, she’d been the first person he spotted when he stepped on the ice. It had always been that way.

“What’s that?” Leila inquired, noticing the puck on the ground to her right. She bent down to pick it up, reading the writing along the tape. “This is from tonight.”

“Yeah,” he explained, his smile widening. “I was going to give it to you as a memento, but the fun patrol over here thought your panties would immediately fall off if I did, so he forbid it.”

Drew shot him a deadly look right before Leila scoffed. “Drew? Seriously?”

“I didn’t say it like that,” he retorted, his face desperately trying to hide the contempt he felt.

“Well, I guess it’s nice to know I’m not the only one receiving one of Drew’s infamous lectures.” She sighed, still shaking her head at her best friend.

“You too?” Henrik asked, surprised.

Again Leila leaned in as if speaking only to him. “Apparently, you’re irresistible,” she whispered with a smile. “And I’m too innocent to know better.”

He smirked back at her, his body reflexively closing the gap between them. “Well, according to my brother, I don’t possess a single moral attribute, so I would inevitably coerce you into my bed at some point.”

“You know—” Drew droned, crossing his arms “—it’s not nice to mock someone while they’re standing right here.”

Leila didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, she kept her eyes trained directly on Henrik. “I don’t exactly feel like going out to eat.”

Normally, he would have taken that comment out of context, but her eyes looked tired, and her voice was soft and worn. Tonight had taken a lot out of her, even if he still didn’t understand the reason. It offered him the perfect opportunity either way.

“You wanna skip O’Riley’s? Pizza and beer at my place instead?” He could practically envision Drew’s now murderous face behind him, and it made his smile grow. Drew should have just left it alone. He would have given her the puck and gone home, satisfied that his simple gesture might have brightened her day.

No harm.

No foul.

Now he would take what he really wanted. He wasn’t going to hit on her like Drew predicted, but he would get her alone, and that would be enough to make him happy and ruin his brother’s night.

“That sounds so much better,” she answered, tucking her hair behind her ear as if relieved of some great burden she’d been carrying. “Care if I wear Drew’s ratty sweat pants?”

He was close enough to touch her now, her chin tilted up at him, offering him the perfect view of her luscious pink lips. Getting her alone sounded better and better. “Not if you’ll lie and tell Austin I really ate brussel sprouts and a protein shake.”

“It’s a deal.”

Something leaped inside of him, but only a pussy would assume it was his heart—like he had one of those anyway—so instead, he merely ignored it. He quickly grabbed his bag and motioned her forward before Austin could ruin the moment. “My car is in the garage out back.”

He started walking behind her, until he finally remembered his brother. He paused, reached over to take the puck from her hand, and turned to give it to a stunned Drew behind him. “Wait. You better keep this,” he told him, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t want her to succumb to any latent desires on the way to the car.”

“You know there is a bathroom just around the corner,” she added over his shoulder, and it was then he realized she was in on the joke.

Drew’s lecture must have struck a nerve. He wondered if he had managed to insult her using the same loving tone as he’d used on him. Either way, he fought back laughter. “Oh, c’mon,” he chuckled, playfully knocking his elbow against hers, “the bathroom? I’m a little classier than that.”

The look they exchanged made him ready to throw her over his shoulder and pack her out of there. “Oh. Sorry,” she laughed, a hint of blush touching her cheeks. “Then I guess you better let Drew keep hold of it.”

Drew was utterly irate. His cheeks flushed scarlet, and his hands knotted into fists at his sides. “I hate both of you,” he bit out, apparently unamused by their antics. “And Austin isn’t going to be happy about this,” he added, yelling after them as they turned toward the door.

Henrik chose to ignore him, because it served him right. He made it a point to flip his brother the finger over his shoulder as he led Leila out of the building.