The Risk (Briar U #2)(75)

“Right. I’m sure.” She scrapes her chair back but doesn’t stand yet. “Stay away from him. Jake and I watch out for each other, we have since we were kids, and I’m not going to let some puck bunny sabotage his season or distract him from his goals.”

“You’re not going to let me, huh? I’m sorry to break it to you, but, to quote my cousin Leigh’s four-year-old daughter—you’re not the boss of me.” I chuckle. “And I’m the farthest thing from a puck bunny.”

“Right,” she drawls again.

“Oh, and FYI, I’m not sabotaging a damn thing, but that’s the last thing I’m saying on this subject. I’m not going to explain myself to you or discuss my relationship with Jake, because it’s none of your business.”

She stiffly gets to her feet. “Whatever. You ended it. Keep it that way and we won’t have a problem.”

I smile, all teeth and no warmth. “Are you done?”

“For now. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She marches to the door, and I watch as Jake’s (alleged) best friend in the whole wide world saunters out of the Coffee Hut.

On one hand, I do appreciate it when claws come out in defense of someone you care about. But I don’t appreciate the accusation that I’m sabotaging Jake’s season, or that being with him was some nefarious scheme on my part.

I didn’t intend on hooking up with him. Ed Mulder and his stupid obsession with Edmonton was the only reason Jake and I went out. And things turned physical because that’s what happens when two people have chemistry. Chemistry is hard to find and even harder to fight.

Ha. I’d like to see Hazel try to resist Jake. If he fixed that seductive green-eyed gaze on her and—

Something occurs to me. Was this encounter more than just a friend defending her friend? Does she have a thing for him?

On further thought, I realize that wouldn’t surprise me in the least.

When my phone rings, I half expect it to be Jake, and my pulse speeds up. When the words HockeyNet flash on the screen, my heart beats even faster. Finally.

I take a breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Hello?”

“May I speak to Brenna Jensen, please?” inquires a brisk female voice.

“Speaking.”

“Brenna, hi. This is Rochelle from Ed Mulder’s office. Mr. Mulder was hoping you’d be able to come in tomorrow to discuss the internship position.”

“Oh. Um.” I quickly run through tomorrow’s schedule. My first class isn’t until one o’clock again. It’ll be close, but I could make it. “Yes, but only if it’s first thing in the morning. I have a seminar at one.”

“I’m afraid he’s all booked up in the morning.” I hear typing on the other line. “How about later afternoon? Does five thirty work for you?”

“I can make it work,” I say instantly, because I’m not about to be difficult.

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

She disconnects.

Excitement flutters inside me. In the back of my mind, a little voice cautions me not to get ahead of myself. This doesn’t mean I got the job.

But…how am I not supposed to be hopeful? He wouldn’t make me drive all the way to Boston just to turn me down.

Nobody is that big of an asshole, right?





“We decided to go with somebody else.”

Oh. Apparently Ed Mulder is that big of an asshole.

From my perch on his visitor’s chair, I swallow my resentment and muster up a calm tone. “For all three slots?” There were three internships up for grabs.

“Yes. We’ve got some good guys coming in. Don’t get me wrong, your academics are on par, but two of them are athletes, and all three simply brought something unique to the table.”

Penises.

They brought penises to the table.

There is no doubt in my mind of that. But I force myself to remain courteous. “I see. All right. Well, thank you for your consideration.” Thank you for making me drive all the fucking way here.

He could have easily sent an email like a regular old jackass, but noooo, he had to prove that he’s a supreme jackass.

I start to get up, but Mulder chuckles and holds up a hand. “Wait. That’s not the only reason I asked you to come in.”

My butt sinks back on the chair. Despite myself, a teeny flicker of hope tickles my throat. Maybe he’s offering me a different position. Maybe a paid one, or—

“I wanted to invite you and Jake to the Bruins game this Sunday.” He beams at me, as if expecting me to clap my hands together in glee. “The network has a private box at TD Garden. Oh, my brother and sister-in-law will be there, too. Lindsay and Karen really enjoyed meeting you the other night. You ladies can catch up while us boys enjoy the game.”

Is murder illegal in Massachusetts?

It’s illegal in all fifty states, I remind myself.

Maybe I could get a good lawyer who could spin it as self-defense? Summer’s dad is a defense attorney. I’m sure he’d be able to keep me off Death Row.

The fury bubbling inside me is so close to spilling over. This asshole made me drive all the way to Boston so he could reject my internship application and invite me to talk about knitting and interior design with his wife and sister-in-law while he and my fake boyfriend get to watch my favorite hockey team.