Watch Your Mouth: A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Kings of the Ice)

Grace

There was no time to talk about anything the next morning.

Okay — so there was an hour fucking drive, actually. But we both stayed silent, Jaxson’s eyes on the road and mine on the notebook I was pretending to write in. All I’d actually done was draw spiral after spiral on the page, because that little shape mirrored my state of being.

I was spiraling.

Do not freak out, Grace, I told myself for the thousandth time. Do not read into this.

But it was impossible not to.

Because whatever had just happened between us, it hadn’t quenched my thirst for Jaxson Brittain. It had only proven that my thirst had been warranted, that he was even better than I could have imagined. The man hadn’t even laid a fucking finger on me, and he’d given me the hottest night of my life.

I didn’t want it to be a one-time thing.

I didn’t want that to be all we ever had.

I wanted more. I wanted it all.

I burned for him — and not just from what had happened last night, either. I craved his laugh, the way it would burst out of him almost like he didn’t want it to but couldn’t help it when it came to me. I wanted to con him into more mischief. I wanted to soak up the way he looked when he gave in. I wanted to hear more about his childhood, about his family, about hockey and why he had a beautiful vintage car in his driveway, and which book he wanted to read next.

What had felt like a schoolgirl crush that night in Austin now felt like an insatiable need.

And that was a dangerous thought to have about my brother’s teammate — especially when we were both in the car on our way to the same place as my brother.

I groaned internally, sinking down in my seat and scribbling another spiral.

Jaxson wouldn’t even look at me.

I was over here dreaming up what could happen the next time we were together, and he was probably sitting in sticky, hot regret.

What if he drops me at the airport and that’s the end of it?

What if it’s over?

What if he goes home after the tournament… without me?

The possibility — and likelihood — of that made my stomach roil, and I shifted in my seat, shutting the notebook and tossing it down to the floorboard along with my pen.

I had to say something.

But before I could, my brother’s name lit up the screen on the SUV.

This time, it was Jaxson’s phone that was hooked up, and we both stared at where the screen said TANNY BOY like we were guilty criminals walking into our trial.

Jaxson cleared his throat, pushing the call to voicemail and promptly turning the volume up when the music started to play again.

I was so sick by the time we pulled up to the airport, I thought I was going to actually puke as I got out of the car on shaky legs. Jaxson rounded to the back before I could, retrieving my luggage and rolling it up to me.

There were a million emotions washing over his face, but I couldn’t read a single one of them.

“Are you sure—” he started, but I quickly shook my head and waved him off.

“My parents are already on their way. Go. I’ll see you there.”

He nodded, turning like he was going to get back in the car.

But then he stopped, his back rigid, shoulders tight. He stood there for a long moment, each breath coming harder than the last. Slowly, he turned to face me again, his brows bent, eyes searching mine.

“Fuck it,” he said.

Then he pulled me into his arms, swept my hair from my face, and kissed me.

My eyes shot open wide, because I was fairly certain I had blacked out and was dreaming. But one tender caress of that man’s hand at the nape of my neck had me melting, my eyelids fluttering shut, and I threaded my arms around his shoulders.

We both exhaled a breath with that kiss, long and slow and pained. When I opened my mouth, Jaxson’s grip on me tightened, and he held me to him as his tongue swept in to touch mine, tightening every nerve in my body all the way to my core.

He pressed his forehead to mine — which he could only do because he still held me off the ground — and his eyes were closed, the muscles working under his jaw.

He was kissing me goodbye.

“Grace, last night was—”

“Reckless,” I finished for him, nodding my agreement even as the moment shredded me from the inside out. “A mistake.”

Jaxson pulled back then, frowning before he carefully sat my feet back on the ground.

“Reckless, maybe,” he agreed. “But not a mistake. And neither of those descriptions was what I was going to say.”

Hope kicked in my chest like a wild mustang. “It wasn’t?”

He sighed, tucking my hair behind my ear, his eyes following that motion. He seemed to be cataloguing every inch of my face.

“It was incredible,” he whispered. “Filthy,” he added with a grin, his eyes raking over me as my skin burned beneath the gaze. “But incredible.”

There was that kick again, accompanied by a flurry of butterfly wings tickling my stomach.

And I realized then that hoping he felt the same for me was more terrifying than assuming he didn’t.

“I don’t know what happens next,” he admitted, swallowing. “But… I know I don’t want this to end. Not yet.”

Oh, yes.

This was much, much scarier.

“Stop flirting with me, Brittzy.”

The joke was barely a whisper as I said it, my nerves wound so tight they strangled it on the way out. But Jaxson laughed, and that sound made my next breath a little easier to take.

“I don’t want it to end yet, either,” I said, leaning into his palm. “I’m having too much fun.”

He nodded, sighing another breath like he’d been just as torn up about the thought of this road trip ending as I had been.

“But today…”

“Trust me — I don’t want my brother to find out any more than you do,” I assured him.

He looked almost green at that, but he nodded again. “Let’s just stick to the game plan, and we’ll talk tonight. Yeah?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Okay.” He released me, but before he could go, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back to me.

“Kiss me one more time,” I said. “Just so I know it’s real.”

A smile curled at the edges of his lips, and he slid his hands back into my hair, fingertips curling behind my skull, thumbs tilting my chin up. He kissed me even slower this time, his lips firm, his intent clear.

And I believed him.

Which was the equivalent of standing on the edge of a fourteen-thousand-foot mountain.

“Real enough for you?” he asked, his voice low against my lips.

“It’ll do.”

He chuckled. “Where’s your phone?”

I pulled it out of the back pocket of my jean shorts, and he smiled, sliding his thumb over the screen. I didn’t have a password on it, so it unlocked on that alone, and he pulled up the camera app. He pressed record next, pulling me under his arm as he did.

“Tell me something good, Grace.”

I flushed so hard it looked like a sunburn, and I buried that blush in his chest, peeking up at him before I looked at the camera.

“Jaxson Brittain just kissed me at a crowded airport.”

“And I’ll do it again, too,” he said.

And he did. He held the phone with one hand and held me to him with the other, searing me with another dizzying, spellbinding kiss.

My head was still spinning long after he left and my parents picked me up, chatting excitedly about the tournament and how they couldn’t wait to see Vince. I didn’t even care that they didn’t ask me where I’d been or what I’d been doing. I didn’t care that I had to endure another day that revolved around my big brother.

Because at the end of it, I’d be back in the arms of his teammate.

That was a reward well worth keeping a little secret.