Risky Business by Melissa Cutler Page B

really wanted to do was slam their heads together to wipe the suggestive smiles from their faces.
    He couldn’t remember a time in recent memory that he’d been so locked up with frustration that it turned his bones to iron. “You don’t get to talk about her like that. You don’t get to look at her like that. None of you. Understood?”
    Will pulled his face back in surprise. Then he laughed. “You’re invoking the Bro Code? Wait . . . you have a thing for Lowell Whitley’s ex-wife?”
    Theo locked his fist at his side and forced out a steadying breath through his nose. Will wasn’t interested in Allison; he was only spoiling for a fight like he was apt to do. Too bad for him Theo had learned a long time ago not to let himself be suckered into Will’s dares. “I don’t have a
thing
for Allison Whitley. And this Bro Code bullshit is child’s play.”
    Brandon crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t insult the Bro Code.”
    â€œYou mean the ‘rule’”—Theo bracketed the word with air quotes, feeling his carefully constructed control shatter all over again—“that implies a woman is so indiscriminate that she’s happy to go along for the ride with whichever man calls dibs on her first?”
    â€œHuh?”
    Theo swiped his gloves from the floor, feeling inexplicably claustrophobic. He was done with this conversation—with talking about Allison Whitley like she was some kind of prize for them to pound their chests over, as all the while she sat in the stands just beyond the ice rink door, invading Theo’s life in every way. He couldn’t even get in the zone for a game in the privacy of the men’s locker room without her mucking it up.
    â€œHow about I try to define the flaw in the Bro Code in a way you can understand?” He slammed his locker closed and stepped over the bench to face-off with Brandon. “I wouldn’t want to be with a woman who would be equally happy getting fucked by you. Any of you.”
    Will folded forward with a loud chuckle. “Oh, snap. That’s cold.”
    â€œHey, now.” Brandon gave Theo’s chest a shove, backing him out of his personal space. “I didn’t deserve that. I know you’re having a shitty week, and I know you think Allison Whitley is the devil incarnate, but don’t take it out on us. Save it for the ice.”
    Even through his anger, Theo realized Brandon was right. It was uncanny how easily Allison got under his skin, how quickly she took his emotions from zero to overdrive every time they had to breathe the same air, which was just about every damn waking minute since she’d arrived. He’d been looking forward to tonight’s game all week, eager to blow off some serious steam and mentally reset himself so he could figure out his next move in the chess match against the Whitleys.
    It pissed him off like crazy that the devil incarnate was so difficult to ignore. There was something about the way Allison carried herself, in her eyes and the way she talked, that made his attention snap her way every time he was near her. And when she wasn’t in sight, he couldn’t get out of his head the way her body had shaken with anger and fear in those drenched, leopard print panties and pink bra after she’d climbed out of the canal. Or the look on her face when she came stomping down the dock on Wednesday, so mad at him that she forgot she was afraid of water.
    He would have been proud of her if she’d braved her greatest fear for any better reason than to throw a plate of chicken wings at him.
    The absurdity of that thought and the memory of Allison all wound up and spitting mad drained the fight right out him.
    He drew a conciliatory breath so Brandon would get it that Theo knew he’d been wrong. “She doesn’t belong here, and the sooner she figures it out, the better off I’ll be. So