Second Goal

by Seabrook, C. M.

  Second Goal

  C.M. Seabrook

  Copyright © 2020 by C.M. Seabrook

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by: My Brother’s Editor

  Cover Model: Sam Parker

  Cover Designer: More Than Words Graphic Design

  Photographer: Lindee Robinson Photography

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  C.M. Seabrook

  Also by C.M. Seabrook

  Second Goal

  I’ve always played by the rules. But I’m about to break them all.

  Two years ago, I found her. Body broken, beaten. And I knew the moment those blue eyes met mine that I would protect her no matter the cost. I just didn’t realize the price would be my heart.

  She’s my best friend’s little sister.

  The star of all of my fantasies.

  Forbidden fruit, ripe for the picking.

  But the closer I get to her, the more I realize that she’s hiding more than just her desire for me. She’s playing a dangerous game. One that could have deadly consequences.

  First goal: Protecting her.

  Second goal: Making her mine.

  This isn’t a game I’m willing to lose.

  Prologue

  Kiley

  Imposter.

  Fake.

  Sham.

  My brain screams the accusations as music and laughter float around me.

  The room seems to buzz, energized by the happiness of the newly married couple dancing to their first song as husband and wife. God, I swear their love is almost tangible. Like something I can hold on to when the ugliness of my past threatens to drown me. But that love belongs to them, not me.

  The truth is, even though the groom is technically my brother, I know I don’t belong here.

  I swallow the lump of unease that rises in my throat. I’ve tried to accept the new family that I’ve been given. But it’s difficult. Especially when I catch my brother’s gaze and see the corners of his lips turn down in the frown he tries unsuccessfully to hide.

  Not that I blame his reaction. I came crashing into his life like a train wreck a little more than a year ago. It hadn’t been my intention to cause trouble, but chaos has always seemed to follow me.

  Just like our mother. The thought pushes into my head, but it’s my brother’s voice that screams the accusation. He’s never said the words out loud. At least not to my face. But I know it’s what he’s thinking every time he looks at me.

  I’m a reminder of the life he escaped when his adoptive parents pulled him out of the system, giving him the opportunity to be something in this world.

  An opportunity he made good on.

  His whole life is a kind of foster kid Cinderella story. Which is one of the reasons the media loves him, and one of the ways I was able to track him down. Because my brother just happens to be Kane Madden. The Annihilator’s golden boy and one of the top paid defensemen in the NHL. To the world, Kane is more than just a hockey star, he’s an inspiration, or as the media like to call him - a true American icon.

  But he’s also a bit of a dick.

  At least to me.

  As much as I hoped for some sibling connection, it just hasn’t happened. And despite how hard my new sister-in-law keeps pushing that I’m part of their family, I haven't been able to swallow the happy pill these people have obviously taken.

  Brynne glances over at me and gives a small wave before my brother spins her around and plants a hard kiss on her mouth, making her giggle.

  I sigh, but despite my attempt to smile, I can’t get rid of the feeling like my whole world is about to crumble around me. Because all of this is just... too good.

  “What’s wrong?” A deep, rough voice behind me rolls through my body. God, that voice. It ignites a flame in my core, a spark that has no right being lit. Especially not by the gorgeous, bossy, overprotective and extremely off-limits man I know it belongs to.

  Don’t turn around, my brain warns. But I don’t listen. Slowly, I shift my body toward the enormous one hovering over me, taking a steadying breath when I do.

  Blake Starowics.

  My brother’s best friend and the star goalie for the Annihilators.

  “Nothing,” I lie, tilting my chin up and meeting the gray eyes that are trained on me.

  Hard.

  Intense.

  And so damn sexy.

  My heart stutters without permission like it always does whenever the man enters my personal space. Which, for the sake of my health, is way too often. Especially since my brother set me up in an apartment across the hall from the insanely gorgeous, six-foot-one wall of muscle. And tonight, wearing what is no doubt an overpriced designer suit that fits his frame perfectly, the man looks delicious. And completely out of my league.

  “I’m just tired.” Another lie. But then I’ve told so many of them lately, it’s becoming second nature.

  Blake keeps watching me like he’s searching for something. But I learned years ago how to mask my emotions. After a few seconds, he makes a noise at the back of his throat that sounds a bit like a growl, before looking away.

  With his gaze diverted, I steal a good look at him. The dark scruff that coats his perfect jaw. The pale scar that cuts into his left brow. My fingers tingle, wanting to run across it, to tangle in the dark hair that hangs over his forehead.

  Energy buzzes around me, a charge of lust and electricity that has my cheeks burning, and my belly clenching with need.

  Off limits, my brain warns again.

  The last thing I need is another reason for my brother to hate me. And sleeping with his best friend is not going to get me any brownie points.

  I divert my gaze and glance toward Kane who has one arm slung protectively over Brynne, the other one now cradling their sleeping son against his chest. “They’re ridiculously perfect, aren’t they?”

  Blake gives a small grunt, and even though I don’t look at him, I know his gaze is back on me. “Yeah.” He drags a hand through his hair and sighs. “They are.”

  And so is he.

  My brother may be the golden boy of the Annihilators, but Blake is the quintessential knight in shining armor, always looking for the next fundraiser to attend or canine to save.

  He’s been on the cover of GQ and Men’s Health Magazine more than once posing with his rescue dogs, his perfect ladder of abs always exposed and flashing the cocky grin that he saves for the camera - and his female fans.

  I don’t know what kind of player he is off the ice. I’ve heard the rumors about his past relationships, but as long as I’ve lived across the hall from him, I’ve never seen any early morning walks of shame. Maybe he saves those for his away games.

  Brynne let it slip once that he’d been hurt in the past. Of course I googled him, but other than pages and pages of articles about all his good deeds, there wasn’t much about his personal life.

  If I want photos of him visiting Children’s Hospital,
posing with one of those giant cardboard checks, or getting a sloppy kiss from his latest rescue, the internet is full of them.

  Yeah, Blake Starowics is that kind of perfect.

  And he’s also my brother’s watchdog.

  It may sound sweet - older brother watching out for his little sister. But I know Kane isn’t really worried about me. He’s afraid of me.

  Afraid that I’ll embarrass him.

  Afraid that I’m like our mother.

  The horrifying truth is, the woman was a saint compared to me.

  A shiver runs down my spine as memories threaten to surface. I start to turn away from Blake, needing to escape from all this... perfectness, but before I can bolt, a hand grasps mine, stopping me, and Blake’s warm breath is on the back of my neck, his voice gravelly when he says, “I told Kane I’d make sure you get home safe.”

  Warmth shoots up my arms, even as anger forms a knot in my stomach.

  He moves closer. Too close. His scent infusing my senses, making my core clench. It’s freaking unsettling, the way he makes me feel. Like I want to kiss him and push him away at the same time.

  “I’ll... uh.” I clear my throat. “I’ll take an Uber.”

  His gaze holds mine, the cocky smile he gives to everyone else, replaced by a look I can’t interpret. “I’m driving you home.”

  Frustration mixes with desire. And it terrifies me. Especially when I know his only intent is to keep an eye on me for Kane. Like I’m one of his stray dogs he needs to rescue.

  “I—” My voice breaks on the word. “I don’t need you babysitting me.” I tilt my chin up at him, wanting to defy him, but knowing even as I do, that I’ll give in.

  Because I want to be with him.

  At first, I tried to sum it up to a childish crush. But I know it’s more than that. Lust or love, I don’t know the difference. But I do know that my body turns to molten lava every time he walks into a room. And it’s not just that he’s gorgeous. He is. His body is Michelangelo-worthy. Even under his suit, I can see the muscles that bunch and tense, tempting me to run my fingers over them. And his eyes, a stormy gray that seem to pierce straight through me, tearing down the walls I’ve so carefully constructed.

  Like he sees me.

  But I recognize something in him too. The same thing that haunts me - fear. I don’t know what his damage is, but I see the pain that he hides behind the mask of control he always wears. A control that slowly starts to erode the longer I hold his gaze.

  His right eye twitches, and his lips thin, but before he can argue with me, Tyler Slade, one of the forwards for the Annihilators, places a hand around my shoulders, pulling me against his side and causing Blake to drop my hand.

  “Hey, little Madden.” Tyler smirks down at me like he has no clue of the tension he just interrupted. Or maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing, because when Blake takes a step back, glaring at the younger man, Tyler just grins at him, then chuckles, turning his attention back to me. “If you want to get out of here, there’s a few of us heading to the Marquee nightclub.”

  “She’s underage,” Blake says, his words hard, intimidating, just like the look he pierces Tyler with.

  Tyler chuckles, raising a brow and says sarcastically, “Okay, Dad.” He looks back at me, dark eyes full of mischief. “Don’t worry about getting carded.” He winks. “You’re with me.”

  Blake’s entire body tenses. I feel it more than see it, and I can tell he’s a heartbeat away from having Tyler plastered against the wall.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was jealous. Which is insane, because Tyler Slade is a boy compared to Blake Starowics. Sure, the two match each other in height. But Blake oozes masculinity, power.

  He’s also dead set on keeping me under his thumb.

  I remove Tyler’s arm from my shoulder and force a smile. “Thanks, but—”

  “She’s not going with you,” Blake says, stepping between Tyler and me. “Go get your jacket, Kiley. I’m taking you home.”

  There’s something in the way he says home, like a promise of things to come that has my body betraying me. And even though I know it’s probably all in my head, the need builds inside me so intense it sends little shockwaves throughout my body. A small whimper rises in my throat, but I swallow it before I humiliate myself.

  “I didn’t bring a jacket.” I hold Blake’s steely gaze, knowing there’s a power struggle going on, but not sure why, or what it means.

  When Tyler starts to speak, Blake makes a noise that sounds almost feral. A sound that has the kid taking a step away and raising his hands in surrender.

  “No need to get pissy,” Tyler says before turning and leaving me alone with Blake.

  Our gazes are still locked, and I swear I see the same need reflected in his eyes. But then he looks away, dragging a hand through his dark hair and letting out a heavy breath.

  More frustration builds inside me. “You know I’m twenty, not twelve, right? I’m not a kid. You can’t tell me what to do—”

  “You want to go with Tyler?” His gaze flicks back to me.

  For a moment, I think about saying yes. But Tyler isn’t who I want. And the thought of going to a nightclub, even just for the satisfaction of defying Blake, doesn’t hold any appeal.

  I sigh. “No.”

  “Good.” He shrugs off his suit jacket before placing it over my shoulders, then leads me out of the building toward the parking lot. When he opens the passenger side door of his gray Mercedes-Benz, his hand rests on my lower back for an instant. Even through the layers of fabric that separates our skin, his touch is fire. And so is the look he gives me.

  That whimper I’d been able to swallow before comes out now in a low moan. Desperate. Needy. A sound that begs him to kiss me.

  His eyes close, but then he exhales heavily. “I should get you home.” One moment there’s passion and tenderness in his gaze, the next he’s looking away, expression haunted and cold.

  God, the man is mercurial.

  And yet I want him.

  Desperately.

  More than I’ve ever wanted anything. Just one touch. One kiss.

  My body aches for it.

  I get in the car, pulling his jacket tighter around me, inhaling his scent.

  He’s still brooding when we park in the underground parking garage, and even more sullen when we step into the elevator. By the time we reach our floor, I’m so twisted inside with emotions and shit I don’t understand that I feel like I’m ready to snap. Or cry. Which is something I never do.

  Knowing Blake is watching me, I fumble with my keys and struggle to get the right one into the lock.

  “Here,” he says, coming up behind me and taking the keys from my hand.

  His chest brushes my back as he unlocks the door.

  “Thanks,” I murmur, feeling the heat of his body so close to mine. I have to tilt my chin to look at him, and when I do, there’s no denying the hunger I see in his gaze.

  He wants me. The thought makes me bold, and I place my hand on his chest and lean into him.

  Time seems to stand still. Or maybe it passes too quickly. Quick enough that I don’t even notice when he presses my back against the doorframe, his large hands cupping my jaw, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck.

  His eyes hold a question.

  Do you want this?

  Yes. Yes. Yes, my body cries out.

  “Kiley.” My name is a husky sound on his lips, and his head dips lower, lips parting.

  Kiss me, I want to beg.

  My knees weaken and my fingers grip his shirt, ready to pop every button and give in to the desire that’s been building since the first day I met him.

  But then my phone starts buzzing in my purse, and Blake pulls back, blinking and shaking his head like he just woke up and realized what he was about to do.

  “Shit,” he mutters, stepping back. He rakes his fingers through his hair making it stand on end.

  “Blake—”

 
“Goodnight, Kiley.”

  I don’t have time to respond before he’s already across the hall and disappearing into his apartment, the yapping and barking of his rescues echoing through the door when he shuts it.

  What the hell just happened?

  My buzzing phone doesn’t give me a chance to process any of it.

  With shaky fingers, I answer the unknown number as I walk into my apartment. “Hello?”

  Ice replaces the heat I’d felt a moment before when a familiar voice answers.

  A voice that reminds me of who I really am. Of the promises I made. Of the secrets I need to keep. Secrets that don’t - no, can’t - involve Blake Starowics.

  Because if my brother ever finds out what I’ve done, or what I’m about to do, I’ll lose everything.

  Chapter One

  Blake

  Six Months Later

  I’m not stalking her.

  At least that’s what I tell myself as I slow my jog and watch Kiley from the shadows as she hurries down the sidewalk, then disappears into a dark alleyway up ahead.

  I swear to God, the girl seems to have been born without an ounce of self-preservation.

  Pax, the six-month-old German Shepherd I recently brought home, whimpers in frustration as I slow to a walk. He tugs on the leash, wanting to continue our run.

  “Easy, boy,” I say more to myself, trying to control the tightening in my chest. But I knew the moment I saw Kiley leave the apartment that she was up to something.

  Her posture, the way she pulled the hood of her gray hoodie over her head, eyes darting around like she was sure she was being watched, I know she’s either in trouble, or headed straight into it.