Page 68 of The Risk Taker

Beside me, Austin and Maisie are in their own world. She’s half-curled into his side, her head resting on his chest while his hand moves absently along her arm.

“You okay, Freckles?” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

I take a sip of my beer, watching her hum in response, tilting her face toward him. “Yeah. Just full.”

Austin chuckles, glancing down at her with a grin. “Really? I’m still starving.”

She lifts her head. “There’s still some pizza right there.”

He arches a brow. “Not what I’m craving.”

Before she can reply, he grabs her around the waist and hauls her into his lap, grinning like an idiot as she squeals.

“Put me down,” she says between laughs, swatting at him.

“Can’t,” he says, peppering kisses along her jaw. “Doctor’s orders.”

Ryan groans from the other end of the couch. “Get a room.”

I shake my head, fighting a smile as I take another drink.

Isabella shakes her head like she’s seen this a hundred times—because she has. “You’re lucky Aurora’s not here,” she says. “She’d be gagging.”

Maisie wriggles back into her spot beside Austin, and he laces their fingers together without thinking.

“Why isn’t she here, anyway?” Austin asks. “She loves hockey.”

I’m guessing hockey is a sore subject right now, especially after finding out her hockey-playing boyfriend’s been playing more than one position.

The guy’s always been a dick, so that one wasn’t exactly a plot twist. Still feel bad for her, though.

“She said she has an early morning,” Isabella answers, reaching for her drink. “Needs to study.”

Austin scoffs. “It’s Friday night. She can take one night off.”

Ryan leans back, stretching an arm along the back of the couch. “You’d know what studying looks like?”

Austin shoots him a flat look. “We study all the time.”

I tilt my head, resting my beer on the edge of the table. “I’m in the room next to yours. I wouldn’t call what I hear studying.”

Austin’s grin spreads slow and he looks way too proud of himself. “Different kind of studying,” he says, wiggling his brows.

I huff out a laugh, shaking my head.

Maisie groans and buries her face in his chest, but not before I catch the flush climbing up her cheeks.

Mostly because, thirty seconds later, Austin and Izzy are already arguing about a missed play.

“You’re kidding, right? It was over by a full inch,” Austin says, pointing at the screen

“In what world?” Izzy flails a hand so dramatically that she nearly knocks over her drink. “You need glasses.”

I lean back, more entertained by them than the actual game. They’re equally stubborn, and neither’s going to back down.

Izzy reminds me of our dad when she gets like this. She's got that same fire in her voice when she talks about hockey, like the whole world narrows down to the ice.

She loves it. Loves it so fucking much.