Chapter 17 #2
Pip’s face went bright pink. “I hate all of you.”
I kept my mouth near her ear. “Feel better?”
Her fingers dug into my arm. “You are insane.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
She looked up at me, and for one second the anxiety cracked. Just a little. Enough for warmth to fight its way back into her eyes.
“Maybe.”
“Good.”
Luke watched us with a look he wasn’t hiding well enough. Possession looked ugly on him.
On me, it looked controlled and protective. This fucker was the type that enjoyed scaring women.
That was the difference.
I wasn’t trying to own her fear. I wanted to burn it out of every room she walked into.
Daniel yelled from the grill, “Bug, you grab those buns or did they join witness protection?”
Pip jolted slightly. “Crap. I forgot.”
“I’ll go,” I said.
“No.” The answer came too fast. She caught herself and softened it. “No, I’ll get them. You’ll get lost.”
“In a house?”
“You grew up with staff. Domestic layouts confuse you.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
I turned her in my arms so she faced me, keeping one hand at her waist. Her hair fell over one side of her neck again.
That fucking hair. I wanted to move it aside and see if he marked her because if she had a mark she was hiding absolutely nothing would stop me from ending him.
Her eyes flicked to Luke, then back to me.
There.
That tiny little check.
A hit of fear. A calculation. A warning she didn’t want me to see.
Too late.
I dipped my head lower, voice pitched for her alone. “Fuck that guy.”
Her breath caught.
“Cade.”
“No.” I held her gaze, letting the yard blur around us. Music, smoke, laughter, her brothers yelling, Luke pretending not to listen. None of it mattered for that second. “Be untouchable with me, Pip.”
Something moved through her face. Not relief exactly. Not safety either but recognition, like part of her had been starving to hear it said that way. Not soft, not gentle, not wrapped in careful little therapy language.
Her mouth parted, and I could tell she wanted to argue.
She didn’t.
Instead, she nodded once.
“That’s my girl,” I said.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Good.
Let her feel that too.
She could sort out what my girl meant later, when she wasn’t standing in the middle of a backyard pretending benefits explained the way her body relaxed when I said she was safe behind me.
“Go get the buns,” I said, releasing her waist only because Daniel was still waving tongs like he planned to declare war on carbohydrates. “And don’t run.”
Her brows pulled together. “I’m not running.”
“You do when you’re scared.”
So, I let the corner of my mouth lift before she could retreat. “Also, when you’re avoiding me after I make you come.”
Her mouth fell open. “Cade.”
There she was. Pink cheeks. Furious eyes. Alive again. I liked her pissed at me better than afraid of him.
She shoved my chest lightly. “You cannot say that here.”
“I didn’t say it loud.”
“You said it at all.”
“Details.”
“You’re a menace.”
“You like that.”
“I like nothing about this conversation.”
“That’s not what you said this morning.”
She made a strangled sound and glanced toward my brothers like they might have developed superhearing. “I’m getting buns.”
“Good girl.”
She froze, then shot me a look that could have stripped paint.
I smiled.
Luke’s beer bottle stopped halfway to his mouth.
Pip turned and walked toward the house with as much dignity as she could manage, which wasn’t much considering her cheeks were still flushed and every other step looked like she was fighting not to look back.
She looked back anyway.
I winked.
She flipped me off discreetly near her hip before slipping inside.
My smile stayed exactly where it was until the screen door shut behind her. Then it disappeared. Luke was still watching me so, I turned toward him fully.
The yard kept moving around us, too loud and too bright for whatever sat between us. Kids shrieked near the pool. Daniel cursed at the grill. Knox and Lyon argued over who got the good stick. Emmitt launched a ball at Kellen’s foot and told him pain built character.
Luke took a slow drink from his beer. “She always this dramatic around you?”
I looked at him, really looked. I let the silence drag long enough that his easy smile started to work harder.
“No.”
His eyes sharpened. “No?”
“She’s pretty relaxed around me.”
His jaw flexed. I was starting to learn his tells. The charm was the mask. The jaw was truth. The eyes were worse.
“Cute,” he said finally.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “She is.”
His smile died by a millimeter.
I heard Ryker call my name from the driveway before Luke could answer. “Mercer. You playing or standing around trying to look threatening?”
“Both,” I called back without taking my eyes off Luke.
Knox barked out a laugh. “Cocky fucker.”
Daniel pointed his tongs at us. “No blood before dinner.”
“That rule feels targeted,” Emmitt said.
“It is,” Daniel replied.
Luke’s smile returned, looser now, but not calmer. “You play street hockey, New York?”
“I play hockey.”
“This isn’t the same.”
I let my gaze drop briefly over him, not enough to be obvious to anyone else, but enough that he knew I was measuring him. “I’ll adapt.”
His fingers tightened around the bottle.
And within minutes, the whole street transformed.
Cars got moved farther down the block while neighborhood kids sat cross-legged along curbs holding popsicles and bags of chips like they were about to witness the Stanley Cup Finals instead of grown men playing street hockey in basketball shorts.
Classic rock blasted from the garage speaker while charcoal smoke drifted through humid summer air, mixing with fresh-cut grass, beer, sunscreen, and the warm smell of ribs coming off the grill.
And holy shit, I loved it. No cameras, no press, no scouts. Just hockey, pavement, noise, and Luke with enough free rein to show me exactly who he was.
Because Luke took the opposing side and looked at me like this was still a game.
That was adorable.
Teams split fast, mostly through shouting, accusations of rigging, and Daniel declaring himself neutral while absolutely choosing the team he believed would feed his ego best. I ended up with Ryker, Knox, Emmitt, Daniel, and two neighborhood guys built like they carried appliances for fun.
Luke captained the other side, naturally, because men like him always wanted the center of the room even when the room was a street full of kids eating popsicles.
Pip came back outside with the buns tucked against her chest just as someone tossed me a stick.
Her eyes moved over the scene, then found me. I saw the exact moment she understood what I planned to do and her face went pale under the flush.
I adjusted my hat backwards and rolled my shoulders once, gripping the stick as competition hit my bloodstream and flipped a switch inside me immediately.
Because Pip was about to see a side of me nobody outside hockey really saw.
The ruthless side. The side scouts loved and opposing teams hated. The side that didn’t need to yell to make someone feel hunted.
Luke stood across from me with a stick resting against his shoulder, smirking like he thought he was about to prove something.
He was just not what he thought he was.
The first ball dropped, and everything narrowed.
Street hockey wasn’t ice. No edges, no glide, no clean lines carved into frozen water. Pavement dragged. Sneakers caught. The ball bounced wrong, sticks clacked harder, bodies got too close because half the men here were pretending this was casual while absolutely treating it like war.
I let Luke have the first move.
He lunged toward the ball, quick enough to prove he hadn’t lied about once being good. Former athlete. Still coordinated. Still arrogant. Still used to people giving him space because of who he used to be.
I gave him none.
I stepped into his lane, stole the ball off his stick clean, and cut around him before his shoulder even finished turning.
The whole street yelled.
Knox screamed, “Oh, he robbed him!”
I sent the ball between two defenders straight to Ryker, who snapped it into the makeshift net before Luke fully processed what happened.
Daniel threw both arms up. “That’s how we do it.”
Luke’s smile tightened.
I jogged past him slowly enough to make it obvious. “You good?”
His eyes flashed. “Lucky bounce.”
“Sure.”
Pip stood near the curb beside Aura who had just shown up, the bag of buns forgotten in her arms. Aura’s gaze shifted between me and Luke, sharp and knowing in a way that confirmed what my instincts had already started screaming.
She knew something.
Noted.
The next play started rougher.
Luke came harder this time, shoulder checking into me with more force than street hockey needed.
I absorbed it, let him think the contact mattered, then spun off and stripped the ball again.
This time I didn’t pass. I cut through two of his guys, shifted around a dad built like a refrigerator, and buried the shot into the bottom corner.
The kids on the curb lost their minds.
Kellen yelled, “Mercer’s cooking him!”
Pip’s mouth twitched despite herself.
Good.
I wanted that smile back.
I wanted every second of this game to remind her that she wasn’t standing alone in a house with him anymore. If he wanted to play dominance games, fine. I played those too.
I just played them better.
Luke wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, jaw working. “College boy thinks he’s cute.”
I smiled. “Nah, but Bliss thinks so.”
The street erupted.
Ryker choked on his drink. Knox bent over laughing. Emmitt slapped his stick against the pavement like I had scored twice.
Across the street, Pip’s eyes went wide.
I looked at her, not Luke.
“You disagree?” I called.
Her cheeks went red enough to make the whole thing worth it. “I’m not participating in whatever this is.”
“This is community bonding.”
“This is ego with a stick.”
“Same thing.”