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

“This is fucking absurd, Daisy.” River pokes his head through my pothos plant and stares at me in between its luscious leaves. “This thing belongs in a jungle.”

I gasp dramatically. “I’m impressed that you know these types of plants do thrive in jungle-like atmospheres.”

“I was making a joke,” he mumbles.

I quickly unbuckle my other two plants from their seatbelts—something else River thinks is absurd—and look toward the skyscraper that I now call my new home.

The street isn’t as busy as I thought it would be, given we’re not far from downtown, but even if it was, River said no one ever uses this entrance anyway.

Holding my plants up high so they don’t drag, we enter the elevator, and River presses 30.

The second-to-last floor? Great.

“What’s the top floor?” I ask jokingly. “A penthouse for some fancy millionaire?”

He laughs, but it’s an awkward type of laugh, like he knows something I don’t.

I eye him closely. “If you tell me that Mom and Dad are moving to the 31st floor…” I let my sentence trail because it really wouldn’t surprise me at this point.

“Yeah right,” he laughs. “Dad will never leave his yard. He’s spent most of our lives perfecting the grass.”

I glance at my plant babies. Runs in the family.

The elevator doors open, and I’m greeted with my reflection on the shiny floors. I’ve looked worse, but my strawberry-blonde locks are extra frizzy and wild thanks to the Chicago humidity.

As soon as River opens the door to my new, fully furnished apartment, my jaw falls. Holy shit. This makes my old apartment look like it belongs on a Craigslist ad that reads “rental apartment for someone desperate.”

It’s not huge by any means, but it has fancy lighting and high-end appliances. My last place had a toaster from the 1900s, and the fridge squeaked every time I opened it.

“Um. How much did you say the rent was again?”

River places my plant on the counter and spins to stare at me. “I told you I’d cover the rent.”

I shoot him a look because I’m holding my plants. Otherwise, I’d cross my arms and stomp my foot. “We are splitting the cost. I’m not moving in here for my big brother to take care of me.”

He scoffs. “But why? I would if it were me.”

“Because!” I say while walking over to the counter. I grab the pothos that he brought up and stride over to the window to place it on the little table for some indirect light. “Then it’s too easy. Now that I’m in remission, I want to get my life back on track.”

He doesn’t understand.

No one does.

“As soon as I get a job, I’m helping with the rent.”

River points to the overabundance of plants in his kitchen. “Maybe sell some of these godforsaken plants.”

I’m offended. “No.”

“Fine.” He turns for the door…to gather more of my plants. “And relax, I snagged an interview for you next week.”

“An interview?” I run after him as he heads toward the elevator. “If it’s a hot dog stand, I swear to god…”

He puts his hands in his pockets. “A hot dog sounds good right about now, doesn’t it?”

I ignore him and press L for the lobby. “If it’s a hot dog stand, you’re not getting free hot dogs from me on pure principle.”

If I can’t have one, neither can he.

“Relax.” River nudges me with his elbow. “It’s not a hot dog stand.”

“Then what is it?”

He thinks for a second, his green eyes searching for something…like a lie.

Worry starts to itch my skin, and my neck grows warm. “Did you score me an interview out of pity?”

Against better judgment, I don’t like to tell people about having Lupus.

It’s an invisible disease, one where I can appear perfectly fine on the outside but feel awful on the inside. Questions arise, along with skepticism, and I’ve found that it’s easier to live with it silently rather than explain.

I follow River out to his car and grab a few boxes, while he hauls twice as many into his arms. I stack one of my plants on top of his heavy load before we head back to the elevator.

“I didn’t tell anyone about you having Lupus, so chill.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“I can keep a secret,” he adds.

I glance at him. “Well, you did tell Stevie I broke up with him because his breath was awful, even though I swore you to secrecy, so excuse me for double-checking…”

River stops halfway in the lobby and gapes. “That was in sixth fucking grade, Daisy. You’re still holding that against me?”

I shrug. “Until you make up for it, yes.”

“I’m letting you move in with me, and I’ve gotten you a job interview. I think I’ve made up for it.” He presses the button to our floor, and I rest against the back of the elevator. I can hardly see anything over the boxes, but I know he’s probably scowling at me.

“That’s right. The mystery job.”

“Yeah, about that…” he says.

The door begins to close, but at the last second, I hear a ding, signaling that someone is stepping onto it.

I guess no time is better than now to meet some of my neighbors.

“Speak of the devil…” River chuckles. “Pun intended.”

What?

I try to see past the boxes, but all I can see is River leaning in for a bro-hug type of deal. A few slaps on the back later, and then the person is pulling away.

It isn’t until I hear his voice that I freeze with shock.

The blood drains from my face as fast as the boxes slip from my shaky fingers.

Oh my god.

River and Kane snap their attention to me while I stand with my back against the elevator wall with two boxes full of botany books spilled beneath my feet.

Shit.

“Kane,” I mutter, hardly able to say his name.

Kane Barlow, my brother’s best friend and the boy who took my virginity, stares at me from across the elevator with what I know to be animosity covered up by a cocky grin.

“Hey, neighbor.” His grin deepens. “Welcome to Chicago.”

I’m in utter shock, and I fear both of them can tell.

Kane has changed over the last several years. His muscles are more defined, his jaw edgier with some scruff along his skin, and unfortunately those changes make him even more attractive than before.

He adjusts his backward hat before bending to help River pick up my botany books.

Say something.

What should I say?

Do I ask how he is?

Do I pretend like I don’t care how he is?

“Move your foot, you klutz.” River flicks my calf, and I jerk my leg backward.

“Oh, right,” I blurt.

I quickly crouch down on the elevator floor and hastily gather my books to plop back into the cardboard boxes. My mind is moving one hundred miles per hour, and the one question that pops into my head zips out into the stuffy space without so much as a warning.

“Why are you here?”noveldrama

Kane’s hand freezes on one of the books. He slowly raises his chin, and our eyes lock. My lungs squeeze tight, as if he’s reaching inside my chest and crushing the life out of me.

Kane and I were close at one point—maybe even closer than he and my brother—though River was oblivious. What started off as teasing turned into subtle flirting and a close bond I haven’t found since. But that was a longtime ago. Surely he doesn’t stillhate me, right?

“He lives here,” River answers for Kane, and I pray he can’t tell that I just died a thousand deaths. “With another guy from the team.”

“Excuse me?” I say in shock.

I quickly stand upright, ending my stare-off with Kane.

River gives me a funny look. “I told you I had friends in the area.” He nods to Kane while folding the box. “I assumed you knew that Kane was one of them, considering he plays for the Blue Devils.”

“Well, you know what they say about someone who assumes…” I fake a smile.

I had no idea he played for the Blue Devils, because the second Kane and I went our separate ways, I pushed him out of my head. I knew he made it to the pros, but I refused to watch any of the games in fear that I’d catch a glimpse of him, and then I’d have to start all over again with forgetting about him.

I silently laugh.

Who am I kidding?

It would be a miracle if I could forget about Kane Barlow.

He’s the type of guy that lies quietly in the deepest parts of someone’s memories, only coming out to play at the worst possible times.

The elevator takes fifteen years to reach my floor, and when the doors open, I fly out of there like a bat out of hell.

Kane and my brother are talking amongst themselves while I try to act normal. I hate surprises, especially the kind with devilish eyes and a hatred for me.

With a hefty breath, I square my shoulders and fumble with my keys to open the door.

Kane, who is now holding the two boxes I was holding, walks past my brother, who has left us alone to answer his phone—which is likely our mom on the other end.

Kane leans close to me, but I make no effort to acknowledge him. “Need help?”

“No.” I press the key into its rightful place.

He snickers under his breath, and I look at him out of the corner of my eye.

“Not what you said the last time I saw you,” he mutters.

My face grows warm.

He’s referring to when I asked him to take my virginity.

Memories of us in my childhood bedroom zip into my head like a wrecking ball, and I now suddenly understand Miley Cyrus on an entirely new level.

My hand stalls on the key, and I finally come face to face with him. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I sweat in places I didn’t know existed.

Kane’s lips lift with a grin, but I can see right through his friendly facade. “Look at us,” he whispers. “Neighbors. Again.”