He scrunched up his nose at the thought. He’d been Leila’s acquaintance, her opposition, and most recently her lover, but he wasn’t quite sure if friend could be added to that list. It didn’t sound horrible, though he was pretty sure friendship didn’t involve trading sexual favors, but he didn’t know if he was capable of it. Besides, she hated him.

“You look like I just advised you to swallow a celibacy pill,” Sam said with a laugh. “I’m not suggesting you swear off all women. Just the one.”

He knew that. In fact, Leila probably expected him to continue his playboy lifestyle, but it didn’t sound that exciting anymore. At least, not with the prospect of Austin going Lorena Bobbitt on him at the first hint of his betrayal.

“Henrik,” Sam whispered, “you don’t have, you know, feelings for her, do you?”

The words quickly brought him out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into, and he immediately reprimanded his young friend with another slap to the back of the head. This time a little less gentle. “That’s a dirty word,” he barked. “Don’t let me hear you say it again.”

“What? Feelings?”

Henrik awarded him another slap, this time to his shoulder as he skated around him. “Now, shut it and shoot. You want to be on my power play line, I want to see a slap shot that will make the goalies’ knees shake.”

Happy to have his captain’s full attention, Sam let it drop, and Henrik was thankful. He’d wanted time to think, but he wasn’t willing to think about that.

Ever.

Chapter 5

 

 

HENRIK’S INSULT

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Henrik glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother, his beach blond hair stuck out in varying directions, and his nose wrinkled in confusion. The scene probably appeared odd to Drew. It wasn’t like he woke up to find him in his apartment on a regular basis, let alone wearing an apron and cooking breakfast like he was the Martha Stewart of Midtown.

“Morning skate isn’t until noon,” he explained, turning back to the eggs in the skillet in front of him. “I thought I might do something nice.”

Food was nice. Everyone loved food, especially when they were upset.

He would feed Leila, and leave. That was the goal for the morning. Do something thoughtful and friend-like that didn’t involve him having to open his mouth and ruin it.

“Henrik,” Drew sighed. “I thought we talked about this already. We’re okay. You don’t have to do anything nice or prove anything to me.”

He did a double take before he realized Drew thought the eggs were for him. He smiled, more than a little relieved. Everything really was okay between them.

He’d taken Sam’s advice and had a pretty long conversation with Drew after the game. Drew forgave his cluelessness, despite having every right to never speak to him again. He forgave him for a list of other brotherly crimes he hadn’t even realized he’d committed. He had rap sheet a mile long.

Overprotective. Invasive. Flaky. Self-absorbed. The list went on and on.

He definitely wasn’t getting the big brother of the year award, that was for sure.

He wanted to feel incredibly guilty about the entire situation, but Drew wouldn’t allow it. “Every time I wanted to get angry with you, and be mad about you overstepping your brother boundary, I’d remember you’ve been the only reliable father figure I’ve ever had in my life,” Drew told him, fighting back tears. “So, I realize it’s only natural that sometimes you push me past my comfort level, and extend your control a little too far. It’s what a good parent would do, and I’ve learned to deal with the fact that you try to be both brother and father to me.”

He cried too. Manly tears, but there was definite water in the eye area. His brother meant the world to him. He was the only family he had left.

“I’m sorry you had to hear about one of the biggest self-realizations of my life from someone else,” Drew continued, digging the knife deeper into his chest. “The brother in me wanted to tell you, but the son in me was afraid I’d disappoint you.”

Shit. If he didn’t stop thinking about it, he’d cry again.

“This isn’t just for you,” Henrik tried to explain, breaking a few more eggs into the sizzling skillet. “I got the feeling I wasn’t exactly the most gracious host when Leila showed up the other night. In fact, she made that point very clear to me.”

“So, instead of apologizing, you’re making her breakfast?” Drew smirked at him, because that sounded like something he would do. He’d never really been good at apologizing, or talking about his emotions. Actions spoke louder than words, or at least was the norm growing up in the Rylander house.

Like the fact that Drew didn’t have to say he was still upset over the sudden death of their mother. He’d refused to play hockey, or even put on a pair of skates since she died. He still suffered, and it was obvious.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” Henrik said over his shoulder. “And food is my strong suit.”

The Good Samaritan routine would be impossible. He underestimated Drew’s protectiveness toward Leila. Even though he’d been wrong about the reason for it, because they apparently really were just friends, it didn’t mean it still didn’t exist. They were brothers, after all, and overstepping boundaries ran in the family.

“I guess you have a point. Breakfast has always been your specialty.” Drew leaned over his shoulder, wafting the smell toward himself in appreciation. “I may have to let you piss her off more often.”

“With my track record, I don’t foresee that being an issue.” He couldn’t remember a time since their first encounter that didn’t end with her proclaiming his damnation to the world. It was kind of their thing.

“Speaking of your track record,” Drew’s eyes suddenly depicted the same suspicion as his tone, “this un-Henrik-like gesture isn’t the beginning of some kind of revenge attempt at Derek, is it?”

He shot a look over at his brother, who gazed expectantly at him. “You think I’d try to hook up with Derek’s ex over a cheap shot during a regular season game?”

Drew dramatically rolled his eyes. “You know your beef with Derek is more than just a well-deserved stick to your mouth, which I’m sure you’d been running since the puck dropped, so don’t bullshit me.”

Straightening his shoulders and focusing on the eggs, he nodded. He hated Derek for a lot more than just that one cheap shot. “No. This has nothing to do with Derek.”

Drew started to stick his finger in the array of ingredients on the counter, but Henrik quickly reprimanded him with a quick tap on the wrist.

“Good,” Drew responded, rubbing his hand as he shot Henrik a dirty look, “because Austin would kick your ass, and so would I. You know—with Austin’s help.”

He snorted, trying to appear casual. “Why do you always assume I have some kind of agenda to get in a girl’s pants? It’s just eggs, Drew. Everybody has to eat.”

“When has it ever been just eggs with you?” Drew poked him playfully in the ribs. “You know Leila is off limits. Besides, she was a complete mess when she showed up here. She doesn’t need your eggs and ‘hey girl’ line-dropping ass over here hitting on her just so you can get back at Derek.”

The certainty he heard in his brother’s voice struck a nerve. “Your opinion of me is really that low?”

Drew sighed, giving him a sympathetic grin. “You realize we’re neighbors, right? We share a wall.”

Henrik instantly grimaced, and Drew laughed. “I’m not judging you, but it’s my best friend we’re talking about, here. Forgive me for being cautious.”

Henrik stared at the bubbling grease in the skillet and sighed. Even his own brother didn’t trust him enough to do the right thing anymore.