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

Is this a fever dream?noveldrama

Kane Barlow, in nothing but low-hanging sweats, standing beside my bed in the middle of the night seems like a ruse.

He mutters something under his breath before his arms glide beneath my back, shoving me toward the center of my bed. Something cold and wet falls off my forehead, but he’s quick to put it back in its rightful spot before lifting my blankets and covering us both up.

Another chill wracks my body, and my teeth suddenly start to chatter.

“Come here,” he whispers.

One arm goes under my head as he pulls me in closer. The weight of his hand rests over the dip of my hip, and although I’m still frustrated from earlier, I can’t refuse the warmth he’s giving me.

I rest my cheek against his bare chest.

He hisses. “Goddamn, you’re hot.”

A small smile twitches against my lips. “I sure am.”

His amused breath wafts against my hair. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

I shrug. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“Where is your thermometer?” he asks.

“I’ll be okay,” I reassure him. “The fever will run its course. This happens sometimes with Lupus.” It usually indicates a flare-up, but I’m hopeful it’ll pass without any other symptoms.

Kane grunts. “I didn’t ask.”

Silence fills the room. It doesn’t take me long to break from the rising tension. “The batteries are dead in my thermometer,” I admit.

From the way Kane tenses, I prepare myself for a reprimand.

“Well, you could always use the batteries in those vibrators you have in your bedside table.”

I gape at him in the dark. “Did you look through my drawers?!” Wait. “And you broke into my apartment?”

I growl quietly but move closer to him for warmth. “Did you come back to insult me some more? Tell me how I’m a liar?”

The grinding of his teeth is barely noticeable over the clacking of mine. “Maybe,” he whispers.

A chill wracks through me. My body aches, my energy depleted. I want to keep sparring with him, but it takes too much out of me. He takes too much out of me.

Kane’s fingers faintly brush against the skin of my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. He pulls me in closer, and I don’t fight it.

“If I wasn’t shaking like a leaf, I’d kick you out of my bed,” I threaten.

He chuckles darkly. “No, you wouldn’t.”

My nose scrunches. I reach up and pinch him.

“Was that supposed to hurt?” He snickers. “You should know by now that there are other ways to hurt me, Daisy-Petal.”

I stay quiet and try to understand his words. The rubbing against my arm becomes more consistent, and—I won’t lie—it feels good. With my head against his chest, I count his heartbeats to distract me from waves of nausea. A shaky breath clamors from my mouth, and his lazy fingers freeze against my flesh.

“Are you okay?” He sounds worried.

I barely raise a shoulder. “I’ve been worse.”

“Wow.” He exhales heavily, warmth coating my skin. “This is the first time you haven’t lied to me and said you were fine.”

A faint laugh slips from my mouth. “I’m too tired to play games with you tonight.”

Kane pulls me in closer and removes the rag from my head. It flops to the floor, and suddenly, a new one takes its place. “Go to sleep. I’ve got you tonight.”

My eyes close right away. If I were on my A-game, I’d get back at him for the other night on the ice when he tricked me into letting him strip me bare, but I can’t fathom it right now.

Lying here wrapped in his arms feels too familiar, too comforting.

We can pretend things aren’t messy for tonight.

But for tonight only, because even if he wants to play nice right now, I know it won’t last long.

My alarm rings, and I curse groggily. It cuts off a moment later, and confusion slips to the surface. I pull one eye open and wince at the sunlight pouring in from the windows. The sun peeks through the tall Chicago buildings, and I glance to my herbs sitting nearby. It’s the perfect window for them to thrive in.

A breathy sigh falls out of my mouth, and I turn on my side with a wince.

Let’s play the game: Is Daisy achy from a flare, or is Daisy achy because she has suddenly taken up ice-skating?

I reach for my notebook. I need to write down my symptoms so I can try to backtrack and figure out what’s flared me. The triggers are endless. Instead of landing on my notebook, I land on a soggy towel. I pull my hand back immediately, and the night rushes in.

Kane. Is he still here?

Through the throbbing in my temples, I force myself to sit. The covers fall to my lap in a lumpy pile as I glance to the doorway of my bedroom.

A swallow gets stuck in my throat. He’s still here, alright.

If any other girl woke up to Kane Barlow standing in their doorway, shirtless, with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand, they’d think they were in some sort of fantasy. Me? It’s like a nightmare.

A hot nightmare, but still.

“Your fever broke around four.” He’s so nonchalant, standing there in the doorway.

Steam billows out from his mug as he places it up to his lips and takes a sip. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple catches my eye as he swallows. I gulp in response.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, glancing out at the skyline instead of my face.

Terrible.

I swallow the truth and lie because the sooner he’s gone, the better. “I’m fine⁠—”

Kane snaps a glare over to me, and as if it has a mind of its own, my mouth snaps shut.

“Told you.” My heart stops from the sound of my brother’s voice behind Kane.

Kane rolls his eyes over his shoulder at River, and my body flares with heat. Are they chatting about me behind my back? A threat almost flies out of my mouth toward Kane, because I don’t like the way he’s suddenly banding together with River regarding my health. Just a mere twelve hours ago, he was hurling insults at me.

“I am fine,” I repeat. “This is completely normal for someone with Lupus. It’s just the inflammation.” I sit up a little taller and lean to the left, putting my attention on River. “Something youshould know…Dr. Sullivan.”

He narrows his gaze before glancing back to his phone. His hair is damp from a shower, but instead of looking like he’s about to collapse onto his bed as usual after a shift, his ID badge hangs off his neck, and he’s dressed like he is heading back in.

“Are you going back to the hospital?” I ask.

“Yeah, they’re short staffed.” He turns to Kane. “Can you stay with her and make sure she’s good?”

I huff. “I do not need Kane to stay here with me. I’m fine. I know my body.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, there’s a shift in the air that only Kane and I can feel. River is going on about how I didn’t even have batteries for my thermometer—thanks for ratting me out, Kane!—and attempting to persuade me to go get another round of bloodwork, but all I can do is glare at Kane’s cocky smirk.

I thought too much time had passed between us for me to be able to read his mind, but I know exactly what he’s thinking: that he knows my body too, especially after the other night.

He follows my brother to the door, chatting quietly about something. Me probably. I sit and stew on my bed until Kane suddenly reappears and takes up space in my bedroom.

“Up,” he demands.

He turns to the skyline and sips on his coffee casually, like he expects me to just follow his command. I sigh loudly, and I see just enough of his face to notice that his mouth turns up on the side, which only irritates me more.

Kicking the covers off my legs, I move to stand with my arms crossed. “I’m not a dog!”

That chiseled jaw of his turns toward me. “You sure? You followed my command pretty well.”

My nostrils flare.

“Maybe I should reward you with a treat.”

Part of me wants to bark at him, but then I picture myself biting him.

“Maybe I should reward you with a bite,” I snap.

He turns around, flexing his abs in my face. “Wouldn’t be the first time a woman has bitten me.”

Ugh.

I storm through my bedroom and head for the kitchen. If I’m going to be forced to talk to Kane this morning, I’m going to need my matcha latte as backup. Once I reach the island, I pause mid-step.

My tense shoulders drop slightly.

There’s a mug of matcha already waiting for me.

“One drop of honey,” he says, having followed me out of my room. “And I added a little turmeric. I saw it next to your vitamins, and I read that it’s supposed to help with inflammation.”

Unwilling to let him see my confusion, I grab my mug and take a sip before slowly turning to face him. I rest my back against the island and eye him closely. “Interesting,” I note.

He squints. “What is?”

I shrug. “I didn’t know you could be kind.”

The taste of matcha remains on my tongue, and I hate that it’s better than when I make it. The hint of honey bursts through the bitter tea taste, foamed to perfection.

Unfair.

Kane turns and walks toward the windows, keeping a distance from my plants. He stares at the skyline as I stand back and watch him from the kitchen with a pit in my lower stomach.

“Why are you here?” I finally ask.

I refuse to be blinded by one small, kind act from him.

I’m not naive enough to think that just because I let it slip that I cared more for him than I admitted back when we were teenagers that it’ll be some new beginning for us. There’s too much tension lingering in the air. It brushes against my skin like electricity. I bet if I look closely enough, the hairs on my arms are standing erect.

“What do you mean?” He keeps his attention on the city while sipping his coffee.

“I mean…” I place my mug down. “Why did you come over last night?”

He inhales deeply. His chest expands before answering me. “River asked me to check on you.”

Oh.

Why am I disappointed?

I shouldn’t be, but there was definitely a little prick of disappointment to my skin. Did I want him to come over on his own?

I glance to the floor and stare at my bare feet. I count my toes to keep me grounded, but then, Kane’s feet end up next to mine. He grips my chin gently and tips my face to meet his. I do my best to cover up my thoughts by flattening my lips and evening out my furrowed brow.

“I knew something was off last night when you stormed off into your apartment. I called River, and he asked me to go check on you.”

My eye twitches with skepticism. “You don’t know me that well, Kane.”

Is he lying? Did he come over to continue our fight? Or did he come over because he was worried about me?

His heavy sigh hits me in the face. “Yeah, I do.”

A knock on my door causes his hand to fall, and he instantly puts space between us like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

Even though it’s my apartment, he’s the one who walks over to the door and swings it open.

“What are you doing here?” Kane asks someone.

“Just making sure you made it home, high roller.”

I peer off to the side and spot Malaki.

He walks inside, bypassing his roommate. “Thanks for bringing him home. I owe you.”

“I didn’t need her to bring me home,” Kane grumbles.

With his mug still in his grip, he walks past Malaki. “Come on, let’s go.”

Before Malaki follows Kane back to their apartment, I fleetingly catch his eye. It’s obvious from the way he flattens his lips that we’re both worried about Kane gambling at the casino.