Page 9 of Ethan
It was something they’d dreamed about forever—the three of them playing together. It probably wasn’t happening anytime soon, though. Avery wore an A, a defenseman for the Los Angeles Mavericks. And Charlie, obviously, was one of the Bandits’ top forwards, like Barty had said.
But Ethan had hoped anyway. Knew Charlie had hoped, too, because it was always obvious to Ethan when Charlie felt one way but didn’t want to say it out loud. He thought he was subtle, but Charlie had never been subtle a day in his whole freaking life.
When they’d called his name, the Bandits’ GM leaning into the microphone, Ethan had never been that happy in his whole goddamn life.
And he’d been just that happy about it—him and Charlie playing on the same team!—all the way up til flying into New Jersey with his brother for development camp.
The Bandits had already told him that after camp, he’d be going back to Portland U, for his second year, to “furtherhis development,” which should’ve alleviated any pressure and made this whole thing way less terrifying.
But it turned out that wasn’t true at all. Mostly because of Charlie.
Charlie, who never stopped talking. Who never stopped thinking and searching and working towards a way to be even better at hockey than he already was.
Who had apparently turned into a neat freak during his two years on the Bandits, yelling at Ethan about leaving his stuff everywhere, annoyed when Charlie tripped over a pair of shoes that Ethan had putnextto the shoe rack instead of on it.
And that wasn’t even going into the whole list of superstitions Charlie had apparently developed in the last two years. They weren’t evenplayingtoday, not in a game, not even in a preseason game, and Ethan had lost count of the number of weird things Charlie had done.
Sure, Ethan wanted to be good too—even better than Charlie—but Charlie’s single-minded focus was a little insane and a lot annoying.
Basically,Charlie.
In all the excitement of them getting to be on the same team, Ethan had momentarily forgotten just how intense Charlie could be.
He pulled out his phone and texted his brother. Just Avery. Not the group chat the three of them shared.charlie is so fucking obnoxious.
But it was just past eight a.m. and Avery was already in LA, training and prepping for the beginning ofhisseason, and even though Avery could be overly serious about his preparation, even he wasn’t up at five in the morning.
Ethan took a deep breath and tried really hard not to snap at his brother.
This was supposed to befun.
“Charlie, take a fucking breath. I’m gonna take it seriously, and whatever happens today, or this week, I can handle it,” Ethan said, trying not to whine or sulk or sound like he was approximately ten years old.
Charlie shot him a look. “I didn’t say you couldn’t but this is a whole other level, bud. This isn’t NCAA. This is the NHL.”
“Really, I had no idea,” Ethan retorted sarcastically as Charlie pulled into the parking lot outside the practice rink.
Charlie parked the car and smacked Ethan on the arm. “I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Barty had told him that the Bandits’ biggest concern about drafting him hadn’t been his skill or his size, but instead, if he’d treat Charlie like a security blanket.
The irony being that he couldn’t freaking wait to get away from Charlie right now.
“Come on,” Charlie said impatiently as he got out of the SUV, opening the back and pulling out his gear bag. “Max is waiting for us.”
“Yeah, can’t keepMaxwaiting,” Ethan said, slinging his own gear bag across his shoulder. He might not have said it like that, but Charlie was annoying him.
“Hey,” Charlie said, stopping in his tracks. Ethan glanced behind him, not entirely surprised at how worried his brother suddenly looked. “You’re not gonna—”
God, Charlie was so dumb sometimes. But he was never dumber than he was about Max. “Of fucking course I’m not gonna,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t.”
“I know, but—”
“Oh my God, Charlie. Fucking listen to yourself.”
“It’s just . . . that was just a momentary thing, you know. I was drunk. Being stupid.”
