Rush the Edge: A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Blue Devils Hockey Book 3)

The night before a game, I’m practically crawling out of my skin.

No one expects it. I keep everyone at an arm’s length, so they only get the aloof version of me, the one that acts unbothered, without nerves, especially while on the ice.

Sure, I let my temper fly, but that isn’t much of a surprise to anyone in the league.noveldrama

To know that I have an entire routine the night before a game because I’d do anything to win would be a total mind-fuck to the press. I rarely let anyone in on my habits. Malaki learned the hard way, walking in mid jumping jack, which is exactly why he isn’t home right now. If you’re present during my night-before-a-game regimen, you have to participate.

I don’t make the rules.

I apparently don’t make the rules when it comes to Daisy either.

The music thumps loud, but it’s still not loud enough to drown out the thoughts from earlier in the locker room.

I can’t believe I let her get under my skin like that. I may have won our little tiff, but the lasting effects of having her so close are lingering. It pisses me off and excites me at the same time.

After discarding my shirt to the floor, I turn the music up even louder. I have the entire apartment to myself with Malaki out, and with River on night shift, I don’t care how loud it gets.

It won’t bother anyone, except Daisy, which seems like a perk if you ask me.

And chances are, after earlier, she won’t dare knock on my door to curse me out.

Or will she?

Fuck, stop thinking about her.

“Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three…”

With each drop in the bass, I do another jumping jack.

One hundred and thirty-three. Every night before a game.

Some of the drills, or “superstitions” if you’re in the mood to piss me off, have disappeared over the years, but there are a few that have stayed, like the jumping jacks, stepping onto the ice with my left skate, the hair tie around my wrist for games, and the way that I tape my stick. Those are some of the oldest ones in the book, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop them.

Whether I feel as if I have proven myself or not.

“Forty-three, forty-four…”

A bead of sweat drips over my nose as I stare out at the skyline. The skyscrapers are half-lit, looking more like golden stars than buildings. The city grows more awake as the evening goes on.

I wonder if Daisy is even home.

I growl.

Maybe it’s time to reintroduce an old tradition just so I can get her off my mind.

I scoff mid-jump.

Going to the club the night before a game is never a good idea, and I never frequent the same woman twice, so if they ever give me their number, I trash it immediately.

The bass drops again, and I focus on the jumping jacks.

I mentally go over some of the line changes we made for tomorrow’s game and run through the plays so intently that I almost don’t hear the rattling of my door from across the apartment.

There’s a fleeting sense of exhilaration with the thought that it may be Daisy, but surely she doesn’t want to come face to face with me after earlier.

Swiping my shirt off the floor, I wipe it over my sweaty browline and drape it over my shoulder. Without looking at who it is, I swing the door open. Color me surprised when it’s none other than Daisy standing there in what I assume to be pajamas. There’s a line of anger in between her eyebrows that’s fucking adorable as she pairs it with her mouth set in irritation.

“Are you kidding me?!” she shouts.

No bra?

I pull my gaze from her nipples poking through the thin t-shirt she’s wearing and bring them up to her face.

I pretend I can’t hear her over the music. “What was that?”

The bass is still pounding through the penthouse, and another bead of sweat drips down from my hairline, traveling all the way to my chest. Daisy trails it with her eyes before seemingly becoming angry with herself. Her blue eyes flash with something so enticing that I find myself giving her my full attention.

“Some of us work tomorrow, ya know!”

“Obviously!” I shout. “What do you want?”

Daisy stomps her foot like she’s five before she pushes through the door, bypassing me in the process. I’m too swept away by the tiny shorts she’s wearing to stop her. Instead, I stand near the open door and watch her navigate the large space.

She pauses with her back to me, those thick strands of strawberry-blonde hair falling behind her shoulders. I let the door latch behind me, something that sends a naughty little thought into my head, and follow after her.

This is fucking up my entire night, yet I can’t seem to care.

Suddenly, the music cuts off.

“Ugh! Finally!” Her shoulders fall before she spins her attention around the room, locking onto the spiral stairwell that leads to upstairs.

For the briefest of seconds, I let the dirty thoughts play out in my head. I picture myself leading her by the hand to my bedroom and tossing her onto my bed to fuck the attitude right out of her, but then I suddenly remember who she is and become angry that she’s in my apartment, messing with my head along with my evening.

I have a routine, and she isn’t a part of it.

Not anymore, anyway.

I refrain from running my hand through my hair with frustration because there’s no way I’m letting her know that she’s ruffling me. “What do you want?”

She turns toward me, and my eyes fall right to her chest again. “What are you doing up here? Having a fucking rave?”

My mouth twitches. “No.”

“Let me guess…” A soft sigh freeflows from her mouth, and I can tell she’s trying not to look at my bare chest from the way she’s drilling a hole in the wall behind me with her stare. “One of your game rituals?”

She remembers?

When I don’t answer her right away, she laughs. Her arms move to cross over her chest, hiding those perky little buds from me. Thank fuck.

“Well?”

I flick my attention to her raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Where is she?”

It takes me a moment to catch on.

She thinks I’m fucking someone. Of course she does. Even back in high school, I was desperate to make it seem like I wasn’t lusting over River’s little sister, so I would bury myself in between other girls’ legs every chance I could.

Thinking quickly on my feet, I pull away from the archway and make my way over to her. Being extra stubborn when it comes to me, she refuses to move. In fact, I’m not even sure she’s blinked. When I get close enough, I lean into her space and stare right at her mouth. “I’m lookin’ at her.”

Her arms fall, her eyes growing large. I drop my gaze, and I get a glimpse of her hardening nipples, which completely fucks with my head.

“I am not sleeping with you to fulfill your stupid superstitions!”

Although I was kidding, there is a bite of disappointment that comes with her refusal, as if we will ever end up in that position again.

“Relax, Daisy-Petal.” I back away from her because I need space. “I’ve grown past that.”

I swipe my water bottle off the coffee table and chug it. She eyes me with suspicion, narrowing those pretty blue eyes in my direction.

“You’re not superstitious anymore?” she asks.

I toss my water bottle onto the couch. “Oh no, I still am. Fucking someone the night before a game was no longer bringing me good luck, though.”

Her lips part. “Oh.”

I watch in silence as she glances around my apartment space. My place is much bigger than hers, having double the number of rooms.

“So what were you doing, then? Because it sounded like you were…” Daisy’s sentence trails, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a pinkish tint to her cheeks.

“Sounded like I was what?” I poke.

Our eyes catch, and I watch the words come out of her mouth with ease.

“It sounded like you were fucking someone.”

My teeth clench. I’m not sure why that was hot coming from her mouth, but it was.

I tilt my head. “And you thought to come up here and interrupt me…”—I pause to let my words sink in—“mid-fuck?”

Daisy opens her mouth, clearly appalled, but I keep going because it’s simply too much fun watching the thoughts play out over her features.

“What were you going to do? Ask me to stop fucking some woman? Tell her about that mythical STD cream that was delivered to your house by accident?”

Daisy’s eyelashes flutter as she tries to come up with something, but I press a little more, simply because I won’t be satisfied until I see her cheeks ripen with color.

“Were you hoping to get a glimpse? Or were you hoping to join?”

There.

Her eyes turn a shade darker, and those pretty cheeks stain with a blush. I can’t tell if she’s angry, embarrassed, or turned-on.

She’s out of her mind if she thinks I’d let her join.

I wouldn’t share her, even if it was with another woman.

Fuck, what?

“You are so irritating,” she seethes.

I grin. “So are you.”

Her eye roll makes me wild.

When she tries to stomp out of my apartment, bare feet and all, I panic. I quickly follow her and foolishly latch onto her wrist.

She widens her eyes with shock, but I’m committed now.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask.

She peers up at me like some innocent little doe. Though, I know she isn’t as innocent as she used to be.

“Back to my own apartment…” She lets her words trail. “Keep the music down this time.”

I force out a laugh while I tighten my grip on her wrist. “You’re here…the night before a game. You know what that means.”

She gives me a dirty look that completely eggs me on. “I am not letting you fuck me, Kane.”

I’m quick on my feet. “I don’t want to fuck you.” I tug her closer and catch her gasp on my chest. “But you’d let me if I wanted to.”

Her jaw drops. “I would not!”

She’s probably right.

With her wrist still trapped in my grip, I lead her toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city. “Jumping jacks.”

The memory plays out right in front of her face. I watch it like my favorite movie playing.

“You’re still doing jumping jacks the night before a game?” There’s the tiniest spark of amusement within her question.

“Yep, and we’re at forty-three. So get to it.”