Pucking Around: Chapter 85

“Harrison!” I run down the length of the stands in front of the practice ice, not caring when I startle a pair of figure skaters working on a lift.

My brother and I have been circling each other like mice in a maze for almost ten minutes. I finally just told him to stand still and wait. So, there he stands, with his colorfully tatted forearms in the pockets of his jeans. He’s not a big, hulking athlete like my guys. He’s my height and build, with my same dark hair and brown eyes.

I rush to him, throwing my arms around his neck as I bury my face against his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I say. The warm, woodsy scent of his Tom Ford cologne acts like a security blanket, instantly easing my worries and fears.

It will be okay. Everything will be okay. Harrison is here.

He hugs me back, his arms wrapped tight around my waist, as his face turns slightly to kiss my cheek. “Hey, Lem.”

I sigh at his use of my family nickname. Daddy came up with it when we were ten. Rachel became Rachello, which became Limoncello, which somehow morphed into Lemonhead. Now it’s just Lem.

I pull back, holding on to his brightly tatted forearms. “You wanna tell me what the heck you’re doing here?”

He stares daggers at me. “You really gonna stand here and ask me that?”

“Harrison—”

“Oh, we’re doing this,” he growls. “My twin is not gonna fall off the face of the fucking earth, dodging my calls for weeks—did you know Somchai adopted another goddamn cat?”

“What?” I gasp. “But you hate cats—”

“I know I fucking hate cats. And he knows that too. But his auntie came by last week with another sob story about finding kittens in a box outside the back of her restaurant. Apparently, she found homes for all but one. So now I have a peaches and cream kitten named Apricot and she sleeps on my Hermès house shoes.”

“How is Oreo taking it?” I murmur eyes wide.

“He’s fine—wait—fuck.” He drops his hands sharply away from me. “No way. You are not turning this around on me you sneaky little weasel.”

Damn. I had him on the ropes. One more well-placed gasp and he was about to unload two months of life details at me while I nodded and hummed. That would have bought me at least another thirty minutes before he turned the interrogation lamp back around on me.

I’m not ready to come clean, not even to Harrison. It still feels too soon. The guys and I, we’re not ready for people to know our business. What even are we? What do I call them? Are they my boyfriends? My partners? What do they call each other? Is this a united front yet? Without knowing the answers to these questions, it feels like a betrayal to share our business with outsiders.

Not that Harrison is an outsider. He’s a Price. He’ll take my secrets to the grave and beyond. But he’s not one of us. He’s not one of my guys.

And that’s when the startling truth hits me…they’re my guys now. Ilmari, Jake, and Caleb. Not Harrison. Not dad. For the first time in my life, my inner circle has shifted. Tears stinging my eyes. Harrison isn’t my guy anymore. It hurts me more than I ever thought it could. I feel like I’m being cleaved. He’s my twin and my brother and my best friend in the world, but he’s not my person anymore.

I sniff back my tears, shaking my head. “Harrison,” I whimper.

Slowly he nods, his hand lifting to gently cup my cheek. “It’s okay, Lem. You know you can tell me anything.” I cover my face with both my hands, and he sighs, stepping in to rub my back with a gentle hand. “Let’s start with his name.”

I choke on a laugh. “God, I’m a mess. I don’t know why I’m so emotional about this.”

He gives me a sympathetic look. “Maybe because you’re in love with him and you’re afraid of my disapproval. That’s why you’ve been hiding out, right? You fell for a player? We all saw the footage from the game. Dad got alerts last night from Steve and the PR team. They’ve been in overdrive covering your crazy ass.”

I sigh. So that’s why Poppy knew, and I didn’t. My number is untraceable. All press contact with the family goes through daddy’s PR team. If the press is trying to get to me, they’ll have to go through him…and now Poppy.

“Daddy knows?”

“Why do you think he put me on a chartered plane at the ass crack of dawn?”

“You flew out from Seattle?” I say with a confused frown.

“No, I was up in New York City again. See, you’ve been such a little hermit crab you didn’t even know where I was. What if the apocalypse hit and we had to find each other, huh? You’d go get yourself lost somewhere out in Oklahoma not knowing I was in the opposite direction.”

I huff a weak laugh. “So, daddy sent you down here to chastise me?”

“I sent me down here to check on you,” he corrects. “I just used dad’s plane,” he adds. “Come on, Lem. You know how this works. Price family first. We stick together. Your shit is about to hit the fan and the Prices have to get organized. We need to have the story straight. And I wanna meet the guy…or is it guys,” he adds with a smirk. “The gossip sites have been having fun speculating wildly. Are you down here juggling two guys, Lemon Cake?”

He’s right. Price family first. Or at least, Price family came first. It’s not fair to leave them in the dark, trying to clean up one more mess they didn’t make. “Actually, it’s three.”

“Three o’clock?” Harrison says, checking his watch.

“Three guys.”

He stills, glancing up slowly. “You wanna say that again?”

I hold his gaze. “I’ve fallen for three guys, Harrison. I’m in love with them, and they’re in love with me…and two of them are in love with each other. It’s…” I shrug, unable to come up with the right words to describe what we are. Perfect seems trite, even though it fits. We’re a perfect mess of messy perfection. I love what we are. I want to protect it, keep it hidden and safe. But the sexy, hockey-playing cats are out of the bag now. Harrison knows.

“Oh…shit,” he murmurs, eyes wide as saucers. “Okay, so umm…fuck.” He lets out a heavy exhale. “Right, then. Let’s start with their names.”

“Let’s start with coffee,” I counter.

He nods, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “Yeah…coffee. Good idea.”