29. Weston
WESTON
I t’s an hour until puck drop—if the puck were a house party and the stakes were my personal life imploding in front of the entire fucking team.
I don’t know why I agreed to this party in the first damn place. The whole thing’s got bad idea written all over it.
After all, it was a Bennett plan and he’s not exactly known for his great judgment.
But it’s too late now.
I hold the back door open for my brother as he rolls the keg into the yard.
“You think this is a good spot?” Bennett points at a patch of lawn, and I shrug.
“Sure. Good enough.”
If we’re having a keg at all.
Which doesn’t seem like the best plan, all things considered. I don’t bother reminding him that the pre-season starts in a little over a month and we’re supposed to be toeing the line. Training harder than ever before. Focused solely on winning the Cup and establishing a winning franchise.
All of those words would fall on deaf ears. Bennett’s sole goal right now is having a lit-as-hell party and probably getting laid. He’s had a rough time with the move, tougher than he lets on.
I know he misses the city—the girls, the parties, the vibrant night life. Callum’s adjusted fine, never big on that scene in the first place. And Driftwood Cove is perfectly fine with me, now that I’m with Harbor.
But Bennett’s been riding the struggle bus hard. This party was the compromise. Better he misbehaves at home, where I can supervise him. I’d much rather he be in our backyard than at some club off A1A, throwing hundreds at strippers. At least here I can lock him in his room if he misbehaves.
“Bro—is Harbor gonna make it?” Bennett whacks my shoulder, one brow arched. “You gonna get a little action tonight?” He rocks his hips back and forth in a lewd humping gesture, and I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste the tang of blood.
“Shut the hell up, Benny. And yeah, she’s coming to the party with her sister. Keep your hands off the sister.” I let the action comment slide, not wanting to straight-up lie to my brother’s face.
“A sister, huh? That could be fun. A little threesome action?” He waggles his brows, and my fingers curl into fists. He’s one minute away from getting punched out.
Lucky for Bennett, Callum sticks his head out the back door. “Did you order twenty-five pizzas, Bennett?”
“Sure did. People are gonna be hungry.”
A warning bell clangs loudly in my head .
“Fuck. This is a team party, Benny. That’s a shit ton of pizza.”
Bennett shoots me a sly smile. “I may or may not have mentioned the party on my socials…”
Double fuck.
This is exactly what Harbor’s worried about, second only to keeping our relationship a secret. Making sure the team stays out of trouble is a screaming priority. For both of us.
Callum doesn’t say a word, letting the porch door slam as he retreats into the house. Dude knows when things are about to go south.
Although I would have appreciated the back up.
“Bennett, don’t you remember the reason we’re all down here instead of still in New York?”
He stares at me from across the yard, folding his arms across his meaty chest.
“Yeah. Because Coach Evans screwed Prince’s wife. What’s that got to do with the party?”
“Big picture, bro. Keller wants us to stay out of trouble. The only reason I agreed to this party was because you promised it’d be small. ‘Just the team.’” I throw my fingers into the air, quoting my brother. “Now you’re telling me you posted about the party on Instagram?”
Bennett shrugs. “Yeah. And Facebook. What’s the big deal, Wes? You’re such a killjoy these days.”
I stalk across the grass, closing the distance between me and my brother. “The big deal, Bennett, is that we’re supposed to be staying out of trouble. Not inviting it to our fucking house.” I spit out the words, my jaw clenched so tight my molars ache.
“Chill, dude. It’ll be fine. You’ll see. It’s gonna be low-key. ”
The loud thump of bass shakes the ground, the top of a huge party bus visible over the privacy fence. The high-pitched squeal of laughter spills into the air and my stomach sinks.
“Low-key, huh?”
“That’ll be the DJ.”
I stare up at the sky and wonder for the thousandth time how I’m related to this guy. We’re literally nothing alike.
He jogs past me, smacking me hard on the back. “Relax, Cap. I’ve got it all under control.”
“Uh-huh,” I mutter at his retreating backside, dread rolling through me.
Because Bennett’s idea of under control is a helluva lot different than mine.
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I debate texting Harbor and telling her not to come. This party’s starting to feel like a landmine, and I don’t want to be the one responsible for blowing everything up.
But then I remember the way she stared up at me the other night, her cheeks a soft pink and her eyes glowing. Gazing at me like I was someone she could trust, count on to protect her.
I shove my phone back into my pocket.
You’ve got this, Steele.
The worst that can happen is too many people show up and we shut the party down early. No biggie.
I hurry into the house to change before more people show up, every nerve firing in anticipation of seeing Harbor again.
By sunset, the party’s in full swing. Most of the team’s here, sitting around the yard eating pizza and drinking beer. The DJ’s playing music at a perfectly acceptable volume, and we’ve had zero neighbor complaints.
So far, so good.
“Yo, Cap. The PR girl’s here,” Morrison shouts across the yard and heat creeps up my neck.
Awesome.
Nothing like calling attention to me and Harbor before she’s even walked through the door.
“Thanks.” I keep my tone neutral, acting casual as I stride across the grass. Not too fast—I don’t want to appear overeager.
But you totally fucking are.
Truthfully, I’ve been counting down the minutes until her arrival. I hope I can get her alone for at least a few minutes tonight. I’m dying to kiss her, taste her again.
Weaving through the crowd of people in the kitchen, I hurry to the entryway.
And there she is, looking beyond fuckable in a little black dress and heels way too high for a house party. Standing next to her is a tall brunette in a slightly longer red mini dress.
Shit.
Mental note to keep the sister as far away from Bennett as humanly possible. She’s right up his alley—but then again, most females with a pulse typically are. Bennett’s not overly selective in that department. Prides himself on being equal opportunity, in fact.
“Hey, Harbor.” I head over to the sisters, then pause awkwardly. I’m dying to bend down and brush my lips over hers, but that move’s out for obvious reasons. A hug even feels too intimate, with everyone watching .
I settle on a hybrid side hug, a pink blush coloring Harbor’s cheeks.
Fucking gorgeous.
“And you must be the sister.”
“Correct. I’m Piper.”
“Weston. Nice to meet you. You two want something to drink?”
“That’d be fantastic. I’m dying of thirst,” Piper says.
“Cool. Kitchen’s this way.” I lead them through the crowd, a few players saying hello to Harbor as she passes. I notice several heads turn, checking out her ass as she sashays by, and I try to tamp down my annoyance.
I can’t very well put my arm around her and declare she’s mine. Not here, not in this crowd.
But you want to.
Shoving the thought aside, I offer beverages to Harbor and Piper. Both of them take a Solo cup of wine, then we weave out to the backyard.
“Wow—nice place. Gia did right by you.” Harbor motions at the glowing pool, the spacious backyard.
“It’s good, yeah. Plus, it’s a three bedroom. I’m way too old to be sharing a room with my brothers. Bad enough we’re living together again.” I take a slug of my beer, the music cranking up a bit louder.
Piper giggles, and I’m struck by how similar her laugh is to Harbor’s. Although she’s a brunette and Harbor’s a blonde, I see the resemblance between them. They have the same high cheekbones, the same bow lips. She’s taller than Harbor, with a darker complexion, but it’s obvious they’re sisters.
Piper moves in closer to me, dropping her voice low so only the three of us can hear .
“So, Weston—how do you feel about my sister?” She pins her gaze on mine, and I choke on my beer.
Harbor slugs her sister. “Pipes…”
“Um…she’s great.” I stammer the response, my gut tight and face burning.
Nothing like getting grilled.
“She is, isn’t she?” Piper throws her arm around Harbor’s bare shoulders, narrowing her eyes at me. “If you do anything to hurt her, I will mess you up. And I mean it.”
Somehow, I don’t think she’s joking.
“Heard. Loud and clear.”
“Hey, hey…” Bennett strolls up, breaking the tension. “You must be Harbor’s sister. I’m Bennett. The cooler, more fun triplet. Also, better looking.” He shoots Piper a cheeky wink, and my stomach rolls.
Piper laughs, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and I wonder if I should be worried about the two of them. I bet they could get into a lot of trouble together.
“He’s mostly harmless.” I wave Callum over, wanting a back-up chaperone for Bennett. “And this is Callum, the goalie. Our other brother.”
“Oh, the goalie. Always very serious.” Piper purses her lips together, and Bennett snorts.
“Damn. She knows her positions,” he smirks, shooting her a flirtatious once-over.
Piper snorts at the double entendre and Harbor elbows her sister, a subtle warning.
“I’m not that serious. I prefer driven.” Callum tips his beer back, takes a long slug.
“I don’t think I need to ask who the fun one is here,” Piper says, staring directly at Bennett.
Shit .
I didn’t anticipate Harbor’s sister being a firecracker.
“I resent that. I’m extremely fun,” Callum says, his voice gruff.
“Prove it,” Bennett challenges. “Game of ping-pong, me vs you. Loser cannonballs into the pool. Clothing optional.”
“You’re on.” Callum sets his empty beer bottle on the closest table and takes off toward the game room, Bennett and Piper right behind.
“You okay leaving your sister alone with those two knuckleheads?” I ask, inching closer to Harbor.