Page 126 of Double Puck

"Hi, Declan," Darcy says pleasantly. "Hi, Mason."

"Darcy." Mason nods like they're passing in the office hallway. "Nice robe."

"Thank you. It's Beck's."

"It's the hotel's," I say. "And more importantly, GET OUT."

Declan plants his feet harder on the floor. "You've been missing for twelve hours, Beck. Twelve."

"Twelve hours you apparently spent NOT looking for me, so."

"Well excuse me. I'll have you know, dipshit, that I already stood outside your door all night the night before this one," Declan snaps. "All night. In a hallway. Like a fucking mall cop. So forgive me for assuming one night off wouldn't end in—" he gestures at the bed, the robe, the syrup, all of it "—this."

"And you?" I turn on Mason. "What's your excuse, huh? Where were you while your baby brother was allegedly skipping town?"

Mason takes another sip of coffee. "Busy."

I roll my eyes. "With the coach's daughter, no doubt."

"No." Mason doesn't blink. Just stares at me with the dead-eyed calm of a man who has practiced this exact face in a mirror. "I was… doing laundry."

"At midnight?"

"Jerseys don't wash themselves, Beck."

Declan pinches the bridge of his nose. "Can we focus please? Because the last time I saw you two looking this happy, you were attached at the mouth in our pool. Now I walk in and she's eating pancakes in your bed?"

"She swam, Declan. Everyone keeps forgetting she swam."

Darcy, the traitor, is enjoying this. She's poured herself more coffee and settled back against the headboard like she bought tickets. "Would either of you like some pancakes? There's a lot."

"Do NOT feed them. They're like Biscuit. Feed them scraps, and they'll never leave."

Mason takes a piece of bacon anyway.

"Okay." Declan drags a hand down his face, resetting to captain mode. "Fine. This—" he waves at the general situation "—we'll deal with later. Right now we need to talk about last night. The scratch situation. We need a plan, the three of us, before they send you packing half way across the country because no one at this damn hockey franchise—" He quickly looks at Darcy, but he's committed to whatever he was saying, so he barrels on. "—knows what they're doing. No offence, Darcy."

“None taken,” Darcy says, sipping her coffee. “I’ve met Colin.”

Their focus turns back to me.

"No."

The word comes out of me calm. Flat. Not a joke.

Declan blinks. "No?"

"No. We don't need a plan. I'm not going through an entire Morrison family emergency meeting where you two decide what's best for Beck." I stand up, wrapping the sheet around my waist. "I'm fine without the interrogation. I'm actually great. And in an hour, I'm leaving, because I have a meeting with my agent."

The room goes still.

"A meeting about what?" Mason asks quietly.

"About my career." I hold Declan's stare, and for once, I don't reach for the joke sitting loaded in my chest. "I'm not asking permission, Dec. I'm telling you where I'll be. That's the whole update."

Declan looks at me like he always does. Like the big protective brother who knows what's best for me.

But then, something weird happens.