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

I sober up as soon as the elevator closes me off from her. My apartment feels miles away, but somehow, I’m standing right in front of the door. I unlock it and step inside, tossing my keys onto the counter next to the Tylenol bottle that Malaki has apparently laid out for me. I bypass it and head to my room. There’s no medicine in the world that will relieve the headache Daisy has caused me.

I’m in a daze. My apartment feels emptier than usual, even with Malaki tucked away in his room.

My slow steps echo on my way to the shower.

I shed my clothes and step into the hot water with my head replaying the memory of her that I’ve had to block over the years.

Her rejection so long ago was a cut to my skin that I’ve had to live with. I’ve been through all the proper steps of grief, all the way down to acceptance.

I’d managed to convince myself that it was for the best—she always did have a way of looking at the bigger picture—so in hindsight, when she said there couldn’t be an “us,” it eventually made sense.

Too much was at stake for me.

I was vulnerable.

My thoughts were messy, and my life was spiraling out of control.

My desperation for her was an obvious tell that I was just trying to grasp onto the one constant I had. She was the only person who knew me down to my core and who learned of the truth behind the fiasco that led my mom to practically disown me.

Yet, hearing her admit that it wasn’t all that I had made it out to be is a total mind-fuck.

The truth remains, though: she’s still River’s little sister, and her family is the only family I have left. If there is one thing that hasn’t changed over the years, it’s my loyalty. In fact, it has only grown stronger. If you have me on your side, that means something.

The shower runs cold, and I finally turn it off.

Exhaustion should be setting in, but the longer I lie in my empty bed, the more awake I become. I grab my phone and pull up my texts. I glare at Miles’s thank you text. At least he has the decency to do that.

I delete it so I can avoid the regret that’ll soon come and stare at Daisy’s name.

Even with me being a complete fucking asshole to her, she’s still showing up to bail me out of trouble.

I glance at the clock.

It’s late.

She should be sleeping. There were bags underneath her eyes, evident beneath the brim of her hat.

I read that with Lupus comes exhaustion, amongst other things.

Maybe I should check on her.

Should I apologize for the hostility?

I scoff.

No. I’m not apologizing. Who’s to say she’s even telling the truth, anyway?

Fuck, why do I even care?

My heart hammers behind my ribs. There’s a terrifying glimpse of losing her again in the distance that I can’t ignore. I don’t even haveher, and yet, the thought scares me enough to fling the covers off my legs.noveldrama

I’m shirtless but make no move to put a shirt on. My pulse thrums as I snag her key from the drawer beside my bed. River asked me to keep the spare, which is a true tell that he trusts me way too much.

He shouldn’t, now that his sister is back in the picture.

He really shouldn’t—not if he knew what was good for her.

Two minutes later, I’m standing in front of Daisy’s apartment door. Instead of knocking and potentially waking her up, I insert the key and give it a twist.

An earthy smell mixed with something warm hits me square in the face, and suddenly, I’m back to feeling drunk.

I search the area for signs of River, blindly coming up with an excuse if he were to catch me sneaking around, but with his ID badge gone and keys missing, I know Daisy is alone. I chuckle at the sight of her wild plants with their green leaves and let the door latch quietly behind me.

I creep through her apartment like a stalker. Better me than someone else, though, ‘cause then I’d really end up in prison. I evaded it once. I won’t be so lucky the second time.

When she’s nowhere in sight, I move toward her bedroom.

My dick twitches, and the dirty thoughts that slip in tell me that I’m royally fucked. That’s what Daisy does to me, though—she drives me crazyto the point that I’m picturing myself slipping into her bed, pressing against her, and coaxing her to open up those smooth legs for me.

I swallow thickly and shove the thoughts away.

Act like a fucking man, not a teenager.

Slowly, I push on her bedroom door. The breath whooshes from my lungs. She’s curled on her side in a ball, on top of her covers, with her wavy hair shielding her face from me, like she knew I was going to break into her apartment to watch her.

She’s defiant, even in her sleep.

I chuckle quietly and shake my head.

What am I doing?

I should leave.

She’s clearly fine, even if my gut tells me she’s not.

I turn and put my back to her. I grip the top of the door jamb and pause. Leave.

I peer over my shoulder and trace the curve of her body through the darkness, but that’s when I hear her.

The smallest whimper falls from her lips.

I turn and stare.

She shifts and pulls her knees up higher, giving me a better view of the tiny shorts she’s wearing.

I walk closer and really give her a look. I wouldn’t put it past her to fake a wet dream just to throw me off my game.

As if I can wake her with my stare, I drive my attention onto her. My worry heightens from the wince on her face. I scan her from head to toe.

She’s shaking.

Without the intent to wake her, I place the back of my hand on her cheek. I pull my hand away just as quickly. Fuck. She’s burning up.

Another faint whimper hits my ears as I move to her bathroom. I pull open all the drawers, and naturally, there isn’t a thermometer anywhere. I know for certain that I don’t have one laying around upstairs.

I never get sick, and I surely never take care of anyone who’s sick.

Landing on her bedside table, I pull open the drawer in hopes that it’ll be in there.

It takes a second for my head to catch up with the rising of my dick.

Does River know about these? Jesus.

Several condoms in various sizes are scattered around and not one but two vibrators. As if one isn’t enough for her?

Goddamn it, focus.

Jogging back to the bathroom, I wet some towels like my mom used to do when I was sick. I wring them out so they’re damp with cool water. With a steady hand, I push back her soft hair until her face comes into full view. I place the rag onto her forehead, and her nose scrunches immediately. That plump bottom lip of hers steals my attention when it plops out with a pout.

“Mom, stop,” she whines, brushing my hand away.

I chuckle under my breath. She makes a whiny noise in response.

“I’m fine,” she mutters.

“You’ve really gotta quit saying that, Daisy-Petal.”

Daisy jerks awake with a gasp. Her eyelashes flutter several times before our eyes connect in the dark.

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re not fine,” I say. “Now move over.”