Page 4 of Tripped Up

Wyatt rolls his eyes. “She can take care of herself.”

Yes! That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.

Wait. Is he saying that because he doesn’t want to help?

Not that I want him to. I don’t need it—from him, or from anyone else.

Bex glares at him.

“Fine,” Wyatt sighs. “I’ll invite her to hang out.”

Great. Now he’s talking about me like I’m not even here. I don’t know what’s worse, the infantilization or his ignoring my presence.

He throws his to-go container into a bag and reaches for mine. His eyebrows dart up when he sees I haven’t eaten my sandwich.

“Was tuna the wrong choice?”

I shake my head. “It’s fine. I guess I’m not hungry.”

Tilting his head, Wyatt hums. “I’ll put it in the fridge. You can eat it later.”

That’s… surprisingly thoughtful.

Damn it. Why does he have to be anything other than the two-dimensional caricature of a villain I like to remember him as?

He deals with the trash, then lifts his toolbox.

“What do I need to build?”

two

Wyatt

Elsy Alexander will be the death of me.

It’s been thirteen years since our night together. That’s all we got: one night.

And then the next morning, I opened my big, fat mouth and ruined everything, and she’s never forgiven me.

Hell, I’ve never forgiven myself.

I wasn’t expecting her to pop up in my sister’s life a few years ago, but they’ve been thick as thieves since they were in grad school, so I haven’t been able to avoid her as much as I’d like. Living in a different city helped.

But then Philly traded me to Austin, and now Elsy’s moved here, too, and I…

I’m well and truly screwed.

The only consolation is that her best friend, Nick Mitchell, isn’t on this team. We faced New Orleans in the finals last season before Philadelphia eventually edged them out to win the Cup., adding to his list of reasons to hate me. He’s never forgiven me for messing around with Elsy.

We were in Ottawa for World Juniors and he brought her along to the bar. He and I were vying for a spot on the first line, and one of our teammates dared me to win his girl out from under him.

She came willingly. And fuck, did she come. Multiple times—on my fingers, on my tongue, and later, with my cock buried deep inside her. She was breathtaking.

But then the guys were joshing me around the next morning and I said something I shouldn’t have. I knew it the moment it came out. My mom brought me up to respect women, and I definitely would knock out anyone who talked about her the way I talked about Elsy.

So I guess it wasn’t a surprise when Mitchell punched me in the face. The asshole broke my nose. And I know I deserved it, that and more, but in the decade since everything happened, he’s gone out of his way to target me. He won’t let it go.

And let’s be honest, I needle him back. It gives me a high like none other. I’m a brawler by nature, and I never back down from a fight. Fuck, half the time, I start them. I finish them, too.