HOOKED: Boston Terries Hockey #4

by Chance, Jacob

  “You better sit down,” I warn her.

  “Oh my God. You’re pregnant,” she yells.

  I grip her shoulders, steering her to the couch. “Noooo. I’m not pregnant. Just sit down and let me tell you what you think you want to know but you don’t really want to.” Knees bending, she complies, sinking onto the soft surface.

  “We’re fine as long as you didn’t sleep with Shaw.” She giggles and then gets serious. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

  I grab a pillow from the couch and slam her in the side of the head. “I’m insulted you’d even ask me that. You should know me better than that, not to mention Shaw.”

  “I’m sorry. I know neither of you would ever do that, but you’ve got me kind of worried now.”

  “Marshall and I had sex.”

  Dead silence.

  Crickets.

  She looks kind of pale.

  Is she conscious?

  Yep, she’s awake. I saw her blink.

  “Maddie, are you okay?” I snap my fingers in front of her face twice.

  “Yeah, I’m in shock. That’s the last thing I expected to hear you say.”

  “Oh, but if I told you I was pregnant that would’ve been less shocking?”

  “I think it would’ve been. How could you sleep with Marshall? Gross.” She makes vomiting noises, annoying me. I feel judged, but her reaction is mild considering.

  “Well, at least you're not mad at me.”

  “Who said I wasn’t?” she retorts.

  “You promised.” I point at her. “You pinkie swore. That’s sacred. You can’t break that oath.”

  Maddie’s lips press together in an exaggerated scowl. “Fine. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it. You of all people know what a manwhore he is. He’s the worst kind of arrogant male chauvinistic pig.”

  “I used to think that too, but he was actually very sweet and protective of me when that whole Kent thing happened.”

  “So you decided to pay him back by fucking him?” she asks in a bitchy voice.

  “Hey, I don’t like your tone. I’m an adult and I don’t need you shaming me. I was nothing but supportive when you and Shaw got together both times.”

  “You can’t compare Shaw to Marshall. It’s like comparing Cain and Abel. Or Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

  “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “Did you expect me to be happy that my best friend slept with my brother?”

  “You expected Marshall to be happy when you slept with his best friend. Can you say hypocrite?”

  Her mouth opens and snaps shut, leaving her silently scowling at me. Turning, I grab my backpack and head out the front door. Fucking awesome. What else can go to shit?

  On the way to class I stop at Dunkin’s to grab an iced coffee. Maybe caffeine can improve my day. I also buy a chocolate frosted donut because chocolate has healing properties. At least that’s what I’m going with.

  As I walk outside, I’m too busy freeing my donut from the little bag to pay attention. When I slam into a brick wall and my iced coffee spills all over the bottom half of my torso, that gets my attention quick. Freezing cold and sticky, my shirt plasters to my stomach. “Oh fuck me,” I yell.

  “Only if you say please.” The deep reply has my anger rocketing up one hundred levels. I peel the smushed chocolate donut from my shirt and throw it on the ground at Marshall’s feet.

  “What are you doing here besides not watching where you’re walking?” I spit out.

  “Oh, Lucky, you walked right into me. I assumed you wanted to be in my arms.”

  “Riiight. After the other night, I think you have more of a chance of achieving sainthood than having me willing in your arms.”

  “Here.” He tugs his Terriers sweatshirt over his head, holding it out to me.

  “What?” I curl my lip.

  “Put this on so you’re not late for class.”

  “How do you know I have class?” I snatch the sweatshirt from him.

  “We discussed your schedule and mine before school started,” he reminds me.

  “And you remember?”

  He shrugs. “I’m a better listener than you, I guess.” I shoot daggers from my eyes, and he chuckles. Dropping my backpack to the ground, I slip his sweatshirt over my head before working a private strip show underneath the baggy material. I carefully remove the wet t-shirt over my head and stuff the garment inside an empty pocket on my backpack.

  “I’ve never been jealous of a sweatshirt before,” he mumbles.

  “Thank you for this.” I pluck at the material. “I really do need to get to class.”

  “Before you run off, let me grab you a new coffee and donut.”

  “No. You don’t need to do that.”

  “Oh, but I do. After all, I wasn’t watching where I was walking.” He winks and steps inside, leaving me on the sidewalk staring up at the sky asking, “Why, God? Why?” Of all people for me to literally bump into, it had to be Marshall. That’s just cruel, and I feel like I don’t deserve it. I’m a good person. I always return my grocery cart at the supermarket. I don’t litter. I’m conscious of how much water I use. I even unplug things when I’m not using them. All that and now I’m wearing his sweatshirt, pretty much drowning in the gray material, and I can’t escape the smell of his familiar cologne. It’s all around me, tainting the air I breathe. Images of the two of us naked at the cabin flicker through my mind like a freshly lit flame. If only I could blow them out as easily as a match.

  Marshall walks outside as I’m contemplating attending class in my bra rather than suffer through inhaling his spray on pheromones for the next two hours.

  Holding a tray in his hand, he says, “I got iced coffee just the way you like and a replacement donut too.”

  “Who’s the other coffee for?” I ask.

  He smiles. “It’s mine. We have class in the same building, so I’ll walk with you.”

  “That’s not necessary. I can take my coffee off your hands.”

  “Nice try, Lucky. I‘d like a few minutes to speak with you about the party.”

  “Please don’t. I’d like to forget about that night and most of the last month.”

  “I’d like to forget it too, mostly because I was a dumbass and said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine and no apology is needed.”

  “I have to disagree. I was a jerk.”

  “I won’t argue about that, but we’re good. Your delivery may have sucked, but your points were valid. We’re better off staying clear of each other like the good ole days.”

  “No. That’s not what I want.” He shakes his head. “The point of me talking with you is so you know I didn’t mean anything I said at the party. I had a few shots and wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Oh, come on, Marshall. At least be man enough to own your actions and not blame them on alcohol consumption.”

  “I’m not trying to make excuses. There’s a lot you don’t know that might help you understand why I said the things I did. Can we talk tonight? I’d really like to explain.” He looks down at me with an endearing expression and my heart is such a sucker, she’s falling for his bullshit. But, my brain isn’t as forgiving or naive. I know Marshall can turn on the charm when he doesn’t get his way.

  “I’m sorry, but my night is full.”

  “What about tomorrow sometime?” he presses.

  “Marshall, let it go. I don’t hate you or wish you ill in any way. I just don’t want anything to do with you. I need to get to class.” I pluck my coffee and donut baggie from the tray and hurry down the sidewalk, feeling proud and disappointed in myself at the same time. That dichotomy perfectly sums up how being around Marshall makes me feel. Except for our time at the cabin, but that was like being in an alternate universe. It sounds like a great title for a romance. Too bad there’s no happy ending to our story.

  Speed walking to class without spilling a drop of iced coffee takes
special talent, or in my case, it’s from practice. Many a time I’ve risked being late for class just so I could grab a coffee.

  I slide into my seat with a couple of minutes to spare and smile at my friend Piper. “Hey, you.”

  “Hi. I was wondering if today would be the day you wouldn’t make it on time.”

  “Nah. I would've been even earlier, but I bumped into someone.” I take a sip of my coffee and moan. “This almost makes my shitty morning better.” I break off a piece of my donut and shove it between my lips. “Oh God, this definitely helps.” I hold the donut out to Piper. “Want a piece?”

  She smiles and shakes her head. “You seem like you need it more than I do.”

  “Trust me, I do. This morning has been a disaster, but things are looking up now.” I bite off another chunk, licking the chocolate from my lips.

  “Hey, I have a hockey game tomorrow night, and if you’re not doing anything, you can come cheer us on,” Piper tells me.

  “I’d love to. I’ve never been to one of the women’s team games. I bet you guys kick ass.”

  Piper shrugs, feigning humility. “I’m biased, but we absolutely do. I wish we could play against the guys’ team. I’d love to show them what we’re made of.”

  “You seem like you have a personal reason for that,” I say.

  “Oh, I do. One of the players on that team and I have history—and not the good kind.”

  I blow out my breath in a sympathetic huff. “I know what that’s like. I have my own hockey player issues. In fact, they're what, or should I say who, almost made me late.”

  “What’s your hockey player’s name?”

  “He’s not mine,” I’m quick to reply. Oh God. What if she’s talking about Marshall? Piper and I just met recently, but she’s in a couple of my classes. She seems cool and I like her. I’m not sure how much I’ll like her if she mentions Marshall, though.

  “Are you sure about that?” she asks.

  “As sure as I can be. And his name is Marshall.” Wait for it…

  “Marshall Winters?” She says his name with awe, like he’s a celebrity.

  “That’s the one. What about your hockey player’s name?” Will we remain friends or become foes?

  “Donovan Archer.”

  “Oooh, I know Donovan. He’s actually really nice. Well, nice to me because Marshall is my best friend’s brother. And her boyfriend Shaw is on the team too. He also happens to be Marshall’s best friend.”

  “Dun dun dun. The plot thickens,” Piper jokes.

  “Oh yeah, the plot is thick enough to drown in, and any hope we had of being together is past the point of resuscitation.”

  Our professor walks in and we both pull out our laptops. “I still want to hear about you and Donovan,” I whisper.

  “There’s not much to tell.”

  “You probably wouldn’t dislike someone that much without a reason,” I reply.

  “Oh, I have a good reason. I just don’t think it’s all that interesting for others to hear about.”

  “Misery loves company. We can make voodoo dolls of them together.”

  Piper grins. “I like your style.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marshall

  After my disastrous interaction with Clover this morning, I couldn’t shake my disappointment. I hit the gym after lunch and I’m doing cardio, running on the treadmill, when Donovan walks over.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t working out today.”

  “I wasn’t planning to, but I needed to clear my head. Plus, an extra workout won’t hurt,” I reply.

  “What’s going on with you and Clover?”

  “Nothing, why?” Jesus. How does he know there’s a problem? And why can’t he leave me alone during my workout?

  “I heard you guys talking the other night.”

  “Thanks for eavesdropping, dude.”

  “Fuck you. It’s not my fault I heard. You weren’t exactly quiet.”

  I grab my towel and wipe the sweat from my forehead before slinging it back over one of the rubber handles. “What are you getting at?”

  “If you want Clover, you’re doing a shit job of showing her,” Donovan states as if it's fact.

  I scowl. “Stay out of it. It’s nothing to do with you.” My breathing is starting to get labored.

  “I’m not telling you what to do, man. Clover’s a great girl, and as much as you two pretend you can’t stand each other, you’re not fooling anyone except Maddie.”

  “It’s good that you know what we’re thinking.” I smirk.

  “Marshall, I’m trying to look out for you.”

  “While I appreciate that, I’m not sure what you mean,” I deny.

  “Dude, drop the act.” He shakes his head. “I heard you guys, remember?” He grins, and I give in with a careless shrug.

  “I don’t know what you want from me. If you’re waiting for me to admit I fucked up, it’s pointless. You witnessed it firsthand. But I’m going to get Clover to give me another chance, no matter how long it takes to convince her.”

  “You better be prepared to grovel. She’s not a pushover.”

  “Believe me, I know. I regretted our conversation from the moment it happened.”

  “If you need help thinking of new ways to impress her, I’m happy to help.”

  “I’m not sure what you’d bring to the table. You only know how to please a girl for one night.”

  “Glass houses, Winters,” he jabs back at me. Maybe before Clover, but I’m a changed man now—I just need to make her see.

  * * *

  I’ve thought a lot about ways of winning Clover back. You’re only as good as your game plan, so before I go to sleep, I make an outline of what I’ll be doing and how I’m going to pull these tasks off without a hitch. In some of the scenarios I’ll need help, and who better to ask than my sister?

  Sure, she’ll hate the idea of Clover and me at first, but once she realizes how serious I am about her, she’ll accept the inevitability of us being together.

  Picking up my phone, I type out a text for Maddie.

  Me: Hey, I need your help in the morning. Will you be home at eight?

  I send the message and wait. She may not know about Clover and me, but after we text she will.

  Maddie: I’m divorcing you as my brother.

  I smile. Yep, she knows about us.

  Me: You can’t divorce a sibling. There’s no such thing.

  Maddie: Then I’ll make it a thing.

  Me: You should be happy that I’m in love with your best friend.

  She might pass out from shock and not be able to answer.

  Maddie: Are you joking?

  Me: I’m completely serious. But I screwed up, and I need to make her understand how sorry I am.

  Maddie: Clover isn’t talking to me right now.

  Me: Why?

  Maddie: I got mad when she told me you guys screwed.

  Me: It was more than screwing. But I panicked and fucked up.

  Maddie: If you slept with someone else, I’ll cut your dick off.

  I grimace, but my dick’s safe. I won’t be dipping my troublestick inside anyone besides Clover.

  Me: I didn’t, and I won’t. She’s it for me.

  Maddie: What do you need?

  Yes. I pump my fist and quickly type out my request.

  Me: I need you to let me inside your apartment in the morning. I’m going to drop off something before she leaves for class.

  Maddie: What time?

  Me: I’ll be there at eight.

  Maddie: Text me when you leave your house.

  Me: Will do. Thanks, sis.

  Maddie: Don’t make me regret this.

  Me: I won’t.

  * * *

  I text Maddie and leave the house, heading off to grab some things for Clover. I don’t have any false hope that what I’m doing will change her mind about me. She probably won’t acknowledge it anyway. But I’m doing something unexpected, and i
f it makes her smile, it’s worth waking up an hour early.

  Maddie let’s me in, raising a finger to her lips before whispering, “She’s in the shower, so you need to hurry.”

  Moving to the kitchen, I place a hot coffee, prepared just how she likes, on the table. Pulling a thin black marker from my pocket, I write on the cup—Clover, I hope you have a great day.

  Next, I open the empty box I got from Dunks and spell out I’m sorry using glazed munchkins. I use a chocolate covered donut for the letter O in sorry and carefully close the lid. I turn to Maddie. “Don’t touch anything on this table.”

  “Boo, I want a donut,” she pouts. I grab a bag with a jelly donut and hand it over. “For me?” she asks.

  I nod. “Consider it payment for helping me.”

  “If the payments improve each time, then count me in,” she replies. “Now get out of here before she sees you.”

  As tempting as it is to set eyes on Clover, I want this to be a surprise. It’ll go over better if I’m not here.

  “Thank you.” Leaning over, I kiss Maddie’s cheek.

  Her brows pop upward. “You’re acting weird. You really must be in love.”

  I hold my palms up. “I tried to tell you.” Shoving my marker back in my pocket, I hurry out of their apartment.

  I’m back at the house when I get a text from my sister.

  Maddie: Do you want the good news or bad news first?

  I always say lead with the positive.

  Me: Good.

  Maddie: She ate the donut and a few munchkins.

  Me: Then what’s the bad?

  Maddie: She snorted when she read your edible message.

  And how’s that a bad thing?

  Me: At least she opened the box and ate some. This is a good sign.

  Maddie: You have much to learn about women. Who in their right mind would turn down fresh coffee and donuts?

  Me: I’m going to think positive. This is a step in the right direction.