by Toni Aleo
In more ways than one, I think, but I say, “I’m noticing that.”
He grins. “She’s actually the reason I brought you in here.”
When he says that, my stomach does a weird twisting thing and I’m holding my breath. I fully expect him to tell me that our fighting needs to stop, that I’m being a dick to her or something, but instead he asks, “Are you attracted to my daughter?”
Confused, I sputter, “What?”
His grin grows. “Are you attracted to Baylor?”
Do I lie? Or do I tell the truth?
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I say, “When she is not screaming at me or trying to take the captain spot I want, yeah. I mean, she isn’t an ugly girl. She’s very pretty.”
He nods, looking down at his desk as he fights back a grin. “You two can’t seem to get along.”
You have no idea.
“Yeah, I agree.”
“I need you to.”
I nod. “I’m trying.”
“Try harder. She’s stubborn as shit, but I know together you guys can be lethal.”
Again, he has no clue how true his words are.
“I will try harder.”
“Good, I’m gonna talk to her too. But I wanted to say I appreciate that you’ve been looking after her, even though she is treating you like dirt, and I wanted to ask that you continue to do that.”
Licking my lips, I nod. “That’s not a problem.”
“Good, as you know, I’m not happy about her having to move in or sharing a locker room with you boys.”
“I don’t blame you.”
He nods. “I know a lot of people in the league, Jayden. You look out for my girl, I can make sure to throw some good words around for you.”
“And Jace?” I ask, because while it’s great he is gonna do that for me, he needs to do it for Jace too. “I mean, she isn’t easy to handle.”
He laughs as he nods. “I like you. I have from the beginning, and that right there tells me you don’t fuck around. You look out for yours.”
“I do.”
A grin crosses his lips as he nods, stroking his chin. “Good, and yeah, I can throw in some good words for Jace. You both don’t need ’em; your playing speaks for itself.”
Wow, that’s awesome to hear from him. I match his grin as I nod. “Thank you.”
Leaning back in his chair, he points at me with his pencil. “I have to admit, Sinclair, I’m surprised you didn’t throw in the captain spot in exchange for keeping an eye out.”
I shake my head. It hadn’t crossed my mind. “I want to earn that.”
If one thing is for sure, I work for what’s mine. In all aspects of my life. And while I want to earn my captain spot, I also want to earn Baylor’s trust and maybe even more.
If she’d let me.
My phone has been ringing off the hook since Monday. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and shut it off yesterday. It isn’t like anyone is calling me but Delanie anyway. Call me a coward, but I can’t bring myself to talk to her. How do I tell her that I’m fine, that I don’t even realize he is on the ice with me, or even that he doesn’t affect me at all? She’d know in two seconds that I am a big fat liar, and I can’t have anyone else point that out.
Because he’s taking over my life. He’s everywhere and I can’t shake him. It’s driving me insane, and I’ve turned into more of a bitch than usual. Yesterday, I snapped at my dad for forgetting to buy mustard. Mustard! I’ve officially lost it.
Over a damn boy!
Man.
Douche.
Yes, we will go with douche.
No! Spawn of Satan.
Ha-ha.
Or, I can call him what he really is. Which is sinfully gorgeous with a side of supercrazy talented, and boy, is he a leader. Those guys look up to him something insane. I mean, I honestly don’t understand how he is not in the NHL, kicking ass and taking names. It’s where he needs to be.
Not that I’d utter that to anyone.
Ever.
Deciding though, that I can’t ignore her any longer, I hit answer.
“You bitch! Why are you ignoring my calls and texts?”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I’ve been—”
“No, don’t want to hear it. I’ve decided that either, A—you’ve been having wild monkey sex with him and forgot to bring your phone, or B—you’ve completely turned into a hermit and only come out of your shell when it’s time to play because you’re too big of a pansy to tell him you want to play with his hockey stick, and you know which one I mean.”
Yes. I know. And now I’m thinking about it again.
This is why I ignored her calls.
“Neither actually,” I answer. “I’m playing and doing me, with the occasional screaming match with our friend from the beach.”
“Oooh! What happened? Hold on, Mandie wants to hear.”
“Hi, Mandie,” I deadpan and she laughs.
“Hey, Baylor, so tell us everything.”
“Nosy bitches,” I mutter and they laugh, which in return makes me grin. I miss them and maybe talking about everything will help? It isn’t like I have anyone to talk to. I’m alone, and I have a lot to unload on the subject of Jayden Sinclair. Leaning back against my comfy chair, I explain what happened when we first saw each other. The way he looked at me and how I looked at him. As I explain everything, though, I never express how I felt. How my heart did a stupid fluttering thing, or how I couldn’t breathe when he got so close to me. I only give them the basics.
So really, I don’t think I unloaded at all.
Mission failed.
But of course, they have a lot to say.
“I told you! He was looking out for you. That’s so sweet,” Mandie exclaims.
“It is, Baylor. Like, who does that?”
“A dumbass?” I ask because I don’t want to admit that I think it’s sweet, but they both shush me.
“You’re letting your pride get in the way. You don’t like when things don’t go your way,” Delanie informs me because apparently I wasn’t aware of that small personality trait of mine. “Plus, you don’t do well with people who get under your skin and make you feel. I’ve watched you play hockey for two years and never seen you hit someone. And let’s both agree that Seth deserved a good kick in the balls. But you hit Jayden, which means something, you know,” she says, singing the last part, and my body shivers with chills.
I hate Seth’s name. With a passion in my soul.
Ignoring it though, I let out an annoyed breath. I hate explaining myself. “That I was drunk and he said my mom didn’t want me? I think that deserves getting hit, just saying,” I add, but I sure don’t tell them that I pushed him again because he was frustrating me.
And turning me on…
Ugh. I need Jesus.
“Maybe y’all need to just do it?” Mandie suggests, causing my brow to go up.
“What?”
“Maybe there is so much sexual tension between you two that it won’t stop until y’all do it,” she says, and I laugh.
“I am not having sex with him,” I say very sharply. “I’d rather take a puck to the mouth.”
“You’re such a liar!”
I am.
“No! It’s true. He is the slime on my shoe, the pain in my ass. I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”
If I don’t tear his clothes off and hump his face.
No, whoa, did I just think that? Shit.
They laugh before Mandie says, “Murder is a sign of true love.”
“Or insanity,” I suggest, and they both scoff at me as my door opens.
“Bay, let’s go,” Dad says, popping his head in. “We are running late.”
“Yeah, coming,” I say, getting out of my chair and grabbing my shoes. “Okay, this has been real, but I gotta go.”
“Where you off to?” Delanie asks.
“Team-building exercise. We are gonna run up a hill.”
“Because nothing says team like runni
ng,” Delanie says, and I agree.
“For sure,” I mumble since running is my least favorite thing to do.
“Well, have fun,” she says.
“And maybe try talking to Jayden,” Mandie says, and I roll my eyes. “You never know.”
“Never know what? It isn’t like we are gonna get together and be happy.”
“Why not?” she asks incredulously. “It could be good for you.”
“Because he is my enemy. He wants what I want, and I refuse to give it to him.”
“Oh my God, you are insane,” she says and I scoff.
“Been called worse,” I say, reaching for the door and going out. “Nice talk, kinda, but I’ll talk to you ladies later.”
“Oh, Baylor!”
I pause. “Yeah?”
“Happy birthday!” they say, and then they are singing to me. I grin as my heart explodes in my chest. Not too many people have ever wished me happy birthday other than my dad. I know that’s sad, but people really don’t notice anything about me but my hockey abilities.
“We wish we could have come down to party for your twenty-first, but we got you on break!” Delanie says and I grin.
“I can’t wait.”
And I can’t. It’ll probably be a highlight for me, and Lord knows it’s the only thing I’m looking forward to.
We say our goodbyes just as I reach my dad’s truck and get in. I slam the door, and he looks over at me as he starts it. “Delanie and Mandie?”
I nod. “Yup.”
“Miss ’em, eh?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I’m lonely here.”
“Make friends,” he suggests, but I shake my head. “Maybe then you wouldn’t be sitting in the house alone while the boys are having a back-to-school party.”
“Don’t have time for that.”
“You could go. It is your birthday. Go get wild.”
“But I won’t. I need my sleep. Can’t be a winner when I’m drunk,” I say and he grins.
“Too driven,” he mumbles, and I laugh.
“You made me this way,” I sing and he shrugs.
“Maybe.”
But we both know there is no maybe about it.
I am my father’s daughter.
When we get to the running trail, most of the guys have already arrived. Dad pulls into the parking lot and then glances at the time. “They’ve got five minutes.”
“Are you kicking people off for this?”
He shrugs. “Haven’t decided yet.”
Dad doesn’t like lateness; it’s one of his biggest pet peeves. But thankfully, once we get out of the car, more cars are pulling up, guys unloading and gathering around, waiting on instruction. Crossing my arms over my chest, I wait for my dad to start when all of a sudden I feel him near me. Looking to my left, I find him there, matching my stance with Jace beside him, doing the same.
The damn Wonder Twins, ladies and gentlemen.
Just the sight of his perfectly chiseled jaw pisses me off, so I let out an annoyed breath, and when he smiles, I want to kick him.
“Nice shorts there, Moore.”
“Yeah?” I ask, looking down at my shorts. They may be shorter than normal, but they are my favorite running shorts. Looking at his shorts, I can see his are short too, classic dude running shorts.
As I meet his gaze, his grin grows. “Yeah.”
“You can borrow ’em anytime, just let me know,” I say, blinking innocently, and his grin only grows more.
“You are hell-bent on being a bitch, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “I don’t like you.”
“You lie,” he says automatically. When he leans in, I lean back, but it doesn’t stop him from saying, “You like me a lot.”
Breathless, I say, “You know, you’re right. I do like you.”
Satisfied, he nods. But before he can add anything, I say, “Like I love going to the OB/GYN, or maybe getting an enema, or even getting an ingrown toenail picked out. Yeah, I like you bunches.”
I flash him a big grin just as my dad blows his whistle. “All right, boys and Moore,” he says like always, and I direct my attention to him, a little grin on my face.
I won that.
“Today for our team-building exercise, we are gonna run this five-mile course.”
Immediately people are groaning. Apparently, I’m not the only one who hates to run. He blows his whistle, and everyone snaps their mouths shut as Dad goes on, “I believe that running is not only great for your endurance but also it’s good for building a team. The whole no person left behind is something I live by. Push your brothers and sister, help them to finish, and remember this isn’t a race.”
Dad may say that, but when I glance up at Jayden, I see it in his eyes.
This is a race.
And he’s going down.
“We are to finish as a team. Don’t let me see someone finish by themselves,” he says and everyone nods. Blowing his whistle, he waves us off. “And go!”
I meet Jayden’s gaze, and then we are glaring at each other as we start to walk with the team to the start of the trail.
“Wager?”
I scoff. “You mean, what you’re gonna give me when I win?”
He nods at me before sarcastically saying, “Oh yeah, sure.”
“You’re carrying an extra fifty pounds easy. You can’t beat me.”
“Try me, princess.”
Glaring, because I’ve decided that is the most degrading thing he can call me, I say, “Fine, I win, you gotta buy me a big bottle of mustard for the house.”
Scrunching his face up in a perplexed look, he says, “Mustard?”
“Yes, it’s a favorite.”
He shakes his head. “Fine, but thankfully, I won’t have to give up the five bucks. But you will have to admit one thing to me that you would never admit to anyone else.”
Eyeing him, I ask, “Say what?”
He grins, his teeth flashing in the sun as he covers his eyes with a pair of Ray-Bans. “When I win, you have to admit something to me. Pretty cut-and-dried, Moore. Or what, are you too scared to do such a thing?”
I know he is baiting me. I know he is, and I need to ignore the bait. But of course, I’m snipping at it like a damn idiot. “I’m not scared of anything.”
“Then shake on it,” he says, holding his hand out. I look at his hand, and I know I have nothing to worry about. I can beat him, no problem. He may have beaten me on the ice, but that’s because my skates weren’t sharpened... Or at least that’s what I’m going with. Taking his hand, warmth creeps up my forearm before I look up at him and he is smiling.
“Good, let’s go,” he says then, and of course, I drop his hand and take off. I gotta get a good lead on him, he’ll gas out quick, but when I look back, he isn’t there.
Jace is.
What the shit?
He grins as he trots beside me. “You’re fast, dude.”
“Thanks,” I say slowly, looking behind me. “Where’s Jayden?”
“Back there,” he says, jabbing his thumb behind us.
I laugh. I got this in the bag.
I pick up speed, but Jace falls back in step with me. I don’t know why that surprises me; we are about the same body type. Except I have tits and an ass. I feel him looking at me, but before I can look back at him, he says, “So you are coming tonight, right? Further our team building? I bet you could do a badass keg stand.”
I can, but I shake my head. “Nope, staying in. Can’t be drinking, slows ya down.”
He scoffs. “You can still come and not drink.”
I shrug, following along the trail. “I don’t feel like it.”
He gives me a look of disapproval and then asks, “Why? It will be fun. I heard the parties are amazing.”
“Just don’t,” I say before sucking in a deep breath. “I really don’t know you guys. I bet it will be fun for you, but not me.”
“So get to know us,” he suggests, and I let out a breath.
“I don’t wa
nt to,” I answer then, and his grin is gone. We trot for a few minutes with each other, and I want to shake him. He makes me feel weird.
“Can I ask you something?” he says and I shrug.
“Be my guest.”
“How do you expect to be a captain of a team when you know none of the players?”
“A leader isn’t a friend, they are the leader.”
He shakes his head. “A leader should lead by example. If we all did what you are doing, none of us would know each other, and we would lose. We wouldn’t be a family, like your dad wants.”
Touché.
Little shit.
Pressing my lips together, I don’t look at him as I run. I’ve decided this conversation is over. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him shaking his head, but I don’t care. I don’t want to make friends; I don’t want to let anyone in. The last time I did that, when I left, no one cared. Out of the hundred odd people I met, I made two friends and one guy broke my heart. Yeah. I’m good, and plus, I have a one-way ticket out of here, so what’s the point? No one will care about me later.
What a really sad thought, right?
When he takes off, I don’t speed up. I need to save my gas, because this trail is tough. I didn’t realize it was all uphill or that it was kind of rocky. My knee is aching and I want to quit, but I’m nowhere near the top. Trotting along, guys start to pass me, but there is no sight of Jayden, so I keep my pace. As I trot, I replay what Jace said and try not to let it bother me, but there may be some truth to his words.
If the captaincy were up to a vote, I’d lose in a landslide. No way would these guys vote for me. And the thing that worries me the most is that when I do win, will they ever respect me? Do I care if they respect me? A part of me knows I do, but then the bitter, angry part doesn’t care. I just need the C to make my career look more lucrative.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I wonder when my need for a career became more important than my love for the game.
Before I can overanalyze that, Markus falls into step with me. “I’ll be getting beer for tonight. Do you like liquor?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I won’t be there.”
His brows come together. He’s sweating and gasping for air, but still he asks, “Why not? It’s gonna be a blast.”
“Eh, I gotta do something else,” I say, and I’m not sure why. Why am I lying?
