Page 133 of Revenge Puck

The bench door swings open.

Crowd noise swells.

Game.

On.

TWENTY-THREE

JULIETTE

“Explain to me again why I’m drinking a beer? I hate beer.”

I stare down into my cup full of foam, pressing the tip of my tongue to the outer rim.

Ew.

It tastes like the sourdough starter I forgot to feed before it went bad. Bitter and fermented—blech!

“Everyone drinks beer at a hockey game, that’s why,” Blaire informs me as if I wasn’t already aware. “Cheers.”

Wetinkour plastic cups together, settling into our spots, my eyes skimming the action down on the ice before easing into the seat. I wiggle my tush, glancing around, recognizing several of the parents of players I’ve met in the past.

I don’t come to the games often anymore—I used to.

But now I have more incentive.

No offense to Declan but Aaron is far more interesting.

I search the players for both men and find them at center ice, neither of them stretching. Neither of them doing figure-eights, or taking shots at the goal, or doing anything that resembles pre-game rituals.

Declan makes a sharp movement with his glove, jabbing it toward Aaron’s chest; he doesn’t budge. Then he says somethingthat has my brother’s shoulders going rigid beneath his bulky pads.

This is the second time I’ve seen them like this.

Blaire notices, too, squinting down toward the ice. “Are they…arguing?”

I nod slowly. “Seems like it.”

It makes no sense.

Doesn’t it? a small voice in the back of my head asks.Your brother has been dragging Aaron behind the scenes and hijacked your morning coffee to cross-examine you about him.

Such bizarre behavior, right?

I seriously thought everyone on the team were friends. They’re supposed to be working together, not getting in altercations on the ice. And certainly not during a game! Stranger still, Garrett Storm appears to be playing referee.

Whatever they’re saying now makes Declan throw up his hands.

“Ohhh,” Blaire whispers. “This isn’t a hockey argument.”

I roll my eyes. “You can’t hear them.”

“I don’t need to. Look at their body language.” She pauses. “I blame Declan for whatever this is about, he’s such an asshole sometimes.”

I laugh. “You’re never going to take his side on anything.”

She shoots me a side-eye. “Why should I? A man will show you who he is every time.”