23
REECE
It’s getting late, after midnight. Aurora is the first to abandon the couch and curl up on the mattress piled with pillows and blankets.
She’s not asleep, but her eyelids are drooping.
I’m sure she’s exhausted but holding out for the guys.
I know she isn’t staying awake to watch the show because—surprise, surprise—it’s a five-hour documentary on hockey.
The only light is from the glow of the TV and my computer screen.
My eyes are sore, screaming at me to take a break.
You wouldn’t expect it, but an absurd amount of documentation is required in law enforcement.
If it’s not documented, it didn’t happen, and I’m not provided the resources necessary to do my job.
“Hey, Viking. Shut it down and stop avoiding us.”
I’ll never admit when Jackson is right. Still, I save my progress, close the laptop, and flop into the armchair. “Don’t hate me for this, but I don’t watch hockey. I have more important shit to do.”
Jax gives me the side-eye. “Blasphemy. You watch my games. Don’t lie.”
“Because I’m forced to.”
“Liar,” he says under his breath.
Aurora glances at me, probably gauging the truth of my words. I shoot her a wink to let her know I’m joking. If she believes I’m obligated to go to his games and don’t enjoy it, she’ll find a reason for me to stay home. Honestly, I don’t mind. I’m not there for the game.
Ethan shifts to face me. “Did you play sports?”
Since his fit of jealousy, he’s been quiet, his eyes fixed on Aurora’s every move.
“I grew up in the South. Anybody who’s anybody plays football.”
I followed the script and did what was expected of me my entire life, including playing football from age five.
Football is life, and I went along with it, since that’s what good ol’ Southern boys do—just like my father, his father, and every father before him, I’m sure. The same goes for joining the military.
Thinking back on my childhood is like watching a movie starring someone else. It doesn’t seem real. The last time I went home, it felt as though I woke in a complete stranger’s house. I didn’t belong, but they continued to treat me as family.
“What position did you play?”
I blink a few times to get my head straight. “Linebacker throughout high school. I didn’t play after that. I went to boot camp.”
He makes a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Were you any good?”
Jax throws his hands in the air, his nose scrunched in annoyance. “Oh my fucking God! Stop,” he blurts.
Ethan’s expression hardens. “What the fuck is your problem?”
Our girl sits up, legs crossed and arms outstretched behind her, to watch the drama unfold.
“Really?” Jackson deadpans, eyes squinted. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”
Aurora and I exchange puzzled glances. Ethan can’t be interested in me playing for him. I’m almost thirty, have never played hockey, can’t even balance on skates, and my list of injuries from the military is a mile long.
Technically, I’m disabled, per the Department of Veterans Affairs. Definitely not playing hockey.
Ethan leans in, narrowing the gap between them on the couch. “Oh, yeah? What am I doing, Jax?”
“You’re recruiting his kids before they even leave his balls.”
What? I have no idea what he’s suggesting, but I’m cracking up, laughter bursting from my chest. His thought process is truly remarkable.
They stare at each other, having some wordless conversation before Ethan says, “Every team needs an offense and a defense.”
Jackson stiffens. “ You played defense, dickhead.”
A smirk plays on Ethan’s lips, and his eyes shine with amusement. “Then there’s the goalie, who holds the key to the team’s success.”
Without warning, Jax lunges at his bestie, snarling, “You’re getting on my last fucking nerve.”
If it wasn’t for the grin on Ethan’s face while Jackson tackles him to the floor, narrowly missing the coffee table, I’d step in.
They land with a loud thud, vibrating the room, and it wouldn’t surprise me if security came knocking at the door.
“Jackson Vaughn!” Aurora chides.
She gets to her knees, her hands out as if she might try to separate them, but Ethan’s booming laugh cuts her short.
I swear, I’m watching the beginning of soft porn. They’re wrestling. If they start kissing, should I leave?
Both are equally matched, Ethan with size and Jax with speed and rampant energy, but ultimately, I think Ethan could unleash some severe damage if he wanted.
Laughter fills the air as they tussle, pushing at each other’s shoulders and chests. Ethan grasps Jackson’s jaw, pressing his head back, and Jax retaliates with a forearm to Ethan’s throat.
Ethan winces and releases Jackson’s face to push the arm from his neck.
Jackson’s smile vanishes, and he jumps aside. “Oh shit, I forgot about your neck. Sorry. Fuck. Are you okay?”
“What’s wrong?” Aurora scrambles toward them. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Ethan croaks. “I’m fine.” He rolls his shoulders. “It’s more of a precaution than anything.”
She glances between them, her expression filled with worry. “What happened?”
Jackson’s brows furrow. “Did you never Google our boyfriend?”
Ethan shoves him, taking him by surprise. Jackson nearly falls flat on his face, and I can’t help but snicker.
“Ah…yeah,” Aurora drags out. “Once, and I regretted it. The first thing I saw was pictures of him and his, you know, wife .”
Jax presses his lips together and nods. “Okay, valid reason not to Google your married baby daddy, who got you pregnant in the back of a limo while you were on the rebound.”
So that’s the story. Interesting.
Her face flushes. “Jackson, seriously? Just tell me what happened.”
It’s Ethan who answers. “I took a nasty hit, bounced my head off the ice, and broke my neck.”
Her mouth falls open with a gasp. “I didn’t know that. I thought you stopped playing because…”
“Because…” he prompts with raised brows.
“You know, ’cause you’re, like…old…er,” she says, her voice so fucking innocent, it sends Jackson collapsing to the floor in a fit of laughter.
Just another day with these three.