Chapter: 1
Ethan Brooks
Being on the same line as Moretti and Lawson was damn ridiculous.
We dominated.
It was fucking magical.
I was pretty pumped for this season.
Especially after that game.
I was super proud of our Captain.
Jace had mentored me when I was a rookie.
He never had to.
He just did.
Stayed behind after practice when I needed extra work.
Pulled me aside when I fucked something up instead of making me feel like an idiot in front of everyone.
Answered every stupid fucking question I had.
And there had been a lot of them.
Back then, he’d only had an A on his chest.
Now?
The C looked like it had always belonged there.
I watched him across the locker room.
He was laughing at something Lawson said while Moretti was bitching about something beside them.
This team was different now.
Callahan was gone.
Swift was gone.
Moretti was here.
Lawson had the A.
Jace had the C.
And somehow, I was on a line with two brothers who looked like they’d been playing together their entire fucking lives instead of spending most of it hating each other.
Yeah.
This season was going to be fucking insane.
And I couldn’t wait.
“What do you guys think about a celebration dinner tonight?” Jace asked.
“For playing a damn good game.”
Roman nodded. “Down.”
Henderson nodded too.
He met my eyes and grinned.
Carter had become a good friend of mine since joining the team.
Cross too.
We’d only known Mason a few months, but he was a good fucking guy.
The three of us had clicked pretty damn fast.
Probably because we were the younger assholes stuck listening to the old guys talk shit all day.
“I’m in,” I said.
Carter nodded. “Same.”
Mason shrugged. “As long as Brooks isn’t picking the place.”
I looked at him. “Fuck you.”
“See?” Mason looked around the room. “Terrible judgment.”
Carter laughed.
I flipped them both off.
Yeah.
These assholes had definitely become my friends.
Thirty minutes later, we were all at the bar.
Most of the married guys had their wives here.
Moretti’s wife and Jace’s were both pregnant and talking about weird-ass cravings.
Luca wrinkled his nose.
Jace did the same.
I took a sip of my beer and chuckled under my breath.
“What?” Avery asked Luca.
“Nothing, Boss Lady.”
“That face says something.”
Luca looked at Jace.
“Your wife is corrupting mine.”
Harper gasped. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Freckles,” Jace said. “That shit is fucking disgusting.”
Harper narrowed her eyes at him.
“You ate it yesterday.”
“Because you shoved it in my fucking mouth.”
“And?”
“And I love you enough not to spit out food you give me.”
Avery laughed.
Luca stared at Jace.
“You’re fucking whipped.”
Jace lifted his beer.
“So are you.”
Luca looked at Avery.
She smiled sweetly at him.
“Fuck.”
Lawson started laughing beside me.
“Welcome to marriage, asshole.”
“I was married before she was pregnant.”
“Yeah, but now she’s carrying your kid.” Rhett grinned. “You’re fucked.”
“Completely,” Luca muttered.
Avery leaned over and kissed his cheek.
He immediately smiled.
I shook my head.
Fucking married people.
Then the door to the bar opened.
I glanced over without thinking.
And froze.
No fucking way.
My beer slipped from my lips, resting now against my thigh.
I sat up.
Claire.
Claire Bennett.
We went to school together.
We were close.
I also might’ve had the biggest fucking crush on her that I was too much of a pussy to act on.
Okay.
Might’ve was bullshit.
For years.
And now she was standing across the bar like my past had decided to walk right through the fucking door.
Her hair was shorter than I remembered.
Same smile.
Same fucking smile that used to make me forget whatever the hell I was saying when we were seventeen.
Jesus Christ.
What the fuck was she doing here?
“Brooks?”
I ignored Carter.
Claire looked around the bar.
My heart was beating way too fucking hard for a grown-ass man who played professional hockey for a living.
Then her eyes moved toward our table.
They landed on me.
She stopped.
I stopped breathing.
Her lips parted.
“Ethan?”
Fuck.
Even my name sounded the same coming from her.
Carter leaned closer.
“You know her?”
I lifted my beer and took a long fucking drink.
“Yeah.”
Mason looked between us.
“Judging by your face, I’m guessing there’s more to that answer.”
I glared at him.
He grinned.
Asshole.
Claire started walking toward us.
And suddenly I was eighteen again.
Completely fucking gone over Claire Bennett.
She tucked some of her chin-length hair behind her ears.
A thing she used to do when she was nervous.
I stood up and walked over to her.
Abandoning my beer on the table.
I stopped in front of her.
Do I hug her?
Shake her hand?
It had been so fucking long.
What the fuck did I do?
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi.”
Fucking brilliant, Brooks.
Her smile grew.
“You look exactly the same.”
I laughed. “That’s a fucking lie.”
“Okay.” She looked me over. “Maybe a little bigger.”
“A little?”
She laughed.
Fuck.
I remembered that laugh.
Before I could decide what the hell I was supposed to do with my hands, Claire stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.
Oh.
Okay.
We were hugging.
I wrapped my arms around her.
And Jesus fucking Christ.
That was a mistake.
Because she still fit against me.
Not that we hugged enough back then for me to fucking know.
I definitely knew now.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said against my chest.
I smiled.
“You too, Claire.”
She pulled back, but my hands stayed on her waist for about two seconds longer than they fucking needed to.
I dropped them.
Her cheeks were pink.
Mine probably were too.
Fantastic.
Twenty- four years old and apparently Claire Bennett could still turn me into the awkward asshole I was in high school.
“Ethan fucking Brooks.”
I grinned.
“There she is.”
She shook her head. “Professional hockey player.”
“Yeah.”
“I always knew you’d do it.”
That hit me harder than it fucking should have.
Because she had.
Back when making it here was nothing but some ridiculous dream I wouldn’t shut the fuck up about.
Claire had believed me.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I said.
She tucked her hair behind her ear again.
“Yeah.” She smiled. “I'm here for a bit."
My eyebrows shot up.
"Why?"
“My grandmother who lived here passed.”
My smile disappeared.
“Shit. Claire, I’m sorry.”
She looked down at her hands. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
She sighed. “I’m okay. Just... in over my head.”
"What's wrong?"
"She left me her house."
"Oh shit."
She laughed softly. “Yeah. Oh shit pretty much sums it up.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I have no fucking idea.”
I smiled.
Claire Bennett saying fuck.
That was new.
“It needs work,” she continued. “A lot of work. Apparently Grandma decided maintenance was optional the last few years.”
“How much work?”
She gave me a look.
“I found a hole in the bathroom floor yesterday.”
“A fucking hole?”
“Yep.”
“Claire.”
“I know.”
“Did you step through it?”
“No.”
“Did you almost step through it?”
She hesitated.
“Claire.”
“Maybe.”
I laughed.
She smacked my arm.
“Don’t laugh at me. I told you I’m in over my head.”
“What else is wrong with it?”
“Do you want the alphabetical list or should I go room by room?”
“That bad?”
“Ethan, I watched a YouTube video this morning on how to replace drywall.”
I stared at her.
“You’re replacing drywall?”
“Apparently.”
“Have you ever replaced drywall?”
“I watched the video.”
“That wasn’t my fucking question.”
She narrowed her eyes.
There she was.
God, I’d missed her.
I hadn’t realized how fucking much until she was standing right in front of me.
“I can help,” I said.
She blinked.
“What?”
“With the house.”
Her eyes watered. “Ethan, I’ve missed you.”
Yeah.
I’d missed her too.
“Missed you too, Claire Bear.”
Her lips parted.
Fuck.
I hadn’t called her that in years.
“You remember that?”
I frowned. “Of course I fucking remember that.”
She smiled.
A real one.
The kind that reached her eyes.
“No one’s called me that since you.”
Well, fuck me.
I cleared my throat.
“Guess I better make up for lost time then.”
She laughed softly.
“I guess you better.”
I smiled.
“Give me your phone.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Why?”
“Because I just volunteered to fix your house and realized I don’t have your number anymore.”
“Oh.”
She pulled it from her purse and handed it to me.
I put my number in and called myself.
My phone buzzed on the table behind me.
“There.” I handed hers back. “Now you can send me the address.”
“You’re really serious about helping?”
I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you have a life, Ethan.”
“And?”
She smiled.
Fuck.
That fucking smile.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll text you.”
“You better.”
She hugged me again.
This time I didn’t hesitate before wrapping my arms around her.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” she said.
“Me too, Claire Bear.”
She pulled back and smiled.
“Bye, Ethan.”
“Bye, Claire.”
I watched her walk toward the door.
I probably watched a little longer than I should have.
“Claire Bear?”
Fuck.
I turned around.
Carter and Mason were both staring at me.
“Don’t.”
Carter grinned. “Who the fuck was that?”
“An old friend.”
Mason laughed. “Bullshit.”
I grabbed my beer.
“We went to school together.”
“And?” Carter asked.
“And nothing.”
Mason looked toward the door, then back at me.
“You looked pretty fucking gone for nothing.”
“Fuck off.”
My phone buzzed.
I looked down.
Claire: So... how good are you at fixing bathroom floors? 😂
I laughed before I could stop myself.
Carter groaned.
“Oh, Brooks.”
“What?”
He shook his head.
“You’re fucked.”
I flipped him off and looked back at my phone.
Claire Bennett showed up, smiled at me, and within ten minutes I was volunteering to renovate a fucking house.
Maybe Carter had a point.
