“Oh, look! There’s Luc!” Phoebe squeals, and I turn to the TV. Luc, Devin, and Cole had flown to Minnesota last night to join Jordan.
There, filling the screen of our crappy thirteen-inch television, is a reporter’s microphone and Luc’s face.
“Luc, you’re here to support your Silver Bay teammate and friend Jordan Garrison, correct?”
As Luc nods, his long brown hair, which he’s been trying to grow out, skims his cheekbone. He looks shy even with traces of his cocky smirk tugging his mouth upward. Rose lets out a little sigh, and I’m fairly certain Phoebe echoes it.
“Yes. I’ve lived with his family since I was fourteen. Jordan is a brother to me and I wanted to be here for him.”
“He’s got quite the cheering squad tonight, with his family and girlfriend and you,” the reporter replies. “Having been drafted last year by the Las Vegas Vipers, what advice did you give him about this process?”
“Girlfriend?” Rosie repeats, glancing at me.
I swallow and ignore the fear knotting in my chest.
“They must mean Hannah,” Mike Bradbury says as he opens a can of 7-Up with a pop and a hiss.
“Jordan isn’t dating Hannah anymore,” Rose informs him defensively.
“Since when?” Mike looks confused.
“Since my sister gave up her v-card and her mind,” Callie blurts out hotly.
“Callie!” Rosie snaps.
“What?!” Mike looks startled, his big brown eyes jumping from Callie to Rose and then to me.
“Ignore her. She’s drunk,” I tell him.
Mike just shrugs and turns back to watch Luc finish some witty story in his French Canadian accent. He’s probably seen Callie drunk enough times to know it’s a real possibility.
There’s a commercial break and then they’re back. The NHL hopefuls are a blur of bodies sitting in seats in a large auditorium with family flanking each of them. I scan the large crowd but I can’t spot Jordan before they pan to the stage where the president of the league announces that they’re beginning the draft.
I’m suddenly so nervous I feel sick. I know how important this is to Jordy. I know he’s spent his whole childhood working toward this moment. He wants this more than anything in the world. I know he is scared and excited, and I wish more than anything that he’s happy with whoever picks him. I know I’ll be happy just being with him.
The first team to draft is the team Devin plays for, the Brooklyn Barons. Lots of sports reporters have gone wild fantasizing that they’d play on the same team—and I know it would be Donna’s dream to see her boys play with each other and not against each other—but Jordan said Brooklyn needs a goalie. Their current one is almost forty, which is a few years past normal retirement for this profession. And just as Jordan speculated to me, they draft a goalie.
The next team up is Sacramento.
“You could live in California again,” Rosie whispers to me, and smiles. “Then Callie would change her tune. You know how badly she wants to move back there!”
I try to smile at her but my nerves are too intense. We watch as Sacramento drafts a defenseman. Some kid from Ottawa, Canada, who is a giant, taller than Jordan’s six-two.
The owner of the Quebec City Royales is introduced and gets up on stage.
“The Quebec City Royales are excited to draft…” He pauses and his eyes narrow in on something—someone—in the crowd. “…from the Silver Bay Bucks in Silver Bay, Maine…”
I don’t actually hear Jordan’s name called because the group of people assembled in my living room start to scream, clap, jump up and down and hug each other. Even Callie is clapping. I crane my neck to see around Rose, who has jumped up to high-five Leah.
The camera is now focused tight on Jordan as he stands up. He’s smiling a big, beautiful smile. Most people would think it’s just happiness, but I see the relief in his eyes too. He’s glad it’s over. Donna and Wyatt are on either side of him, and he hugs them both, first his mom then his dad. As he moves toward the aisle, he hugs Luc, Cole and Devin. Devin whispers something in Jordan’s ear that makes him laugh, and then he moves another foot to the right.
As Jordan moves down the row I see Hannah’s perfectly curled, ash blond hair and her wide-set blue eyes. She reaches up to hug him, pressing her heavily glossed lips to Jordan’s. When she lets go he quickly continues down the aisle, and as he subtly wipes her lipstick from his lips, my heart splinters.
Chapter 10
Jordan
My flight home was at seven in the morning but I made my dad drive me to the airport at six. I wanted out of there. Being back in Silver Bay with Jessie had clearly caused me to become drunk on nostalgia because only when drunk do I make assumptions as stupid as thinking I still had a connection with her.
I have a connection in Boston so I wander Logan Airport for a bit before deciding to waste time over a Crown and Coke in the first-class lounge. I’m on my second one when a smoking-hot brunette sits down beside me and orders a pinot grigio. She smiles when she catches me staring but it’s reserved, not flirty.
I’m not in the mood for a random hookup in the first-class lounge bathroom but I’m trying to talk myself into it. But before I can even begin to hit on her, a tall blond dude walks over and kisses her softly on the cheek before sliding into the seat next to her. I turn away and concentrate on swirling the ice in my glass.
I can’t help but overhear their conversation though because they’re right next to me and their voices are so chipper they’re hard to ignore. They’re on their way to Cabo. She’s super excited because they haven’t been there since their senior trip in high school. She bought a new bikini and everything.
I order another drink and she excuses herself to use the restroom. When the bartender brings me my fresh drink, he asks the dude with the hot woman if he can get him another too. He laughs nervously and says yes, he needs the liquid courage. He’s going to ask her to marry him on this trip. The bartender congratulates him and I fight not to roll my eyes. Chump.
But then he explains their story. They went to high school together, and it was on their senior trip to Cabo that they started dating so that’s why he’s proposing to her there. Normally this kind of story makes me want to snicker, but I’m listening to every word.
If Jessie hadn’t left me and moved to Arizona, I would have probably been proposing soon too. We’d have been together for six years. She’d have a degree from some school in Quebec and probably even been working at Sea-Tac now just like she is now. The revelation makes me feel hollow.
The hot girl comes back as their flight is announced. As they get up and leave the lounge, she rubs his back and he takes her hand in his. It all looks so simple…and so…good. For the first time in a long time, that kind of togetherness looks appealing.
I head straight to the arena as soon as my plane lands. Coach made me promise I would check in before the road trip. I get there just as the team is lacing up for practice, and, to my surprise, the trainer tells me to lace up too. I smile and feel a rush of adrenaline push through my veins. If they’re letting me skate. they think I might be able to play. Unfortunately, the practice doesn’t go as well as I hope—or anyone hopes. My conditioning is beyond bad. I’m winded and lagging behind everyone in drills. When I get off the ice after a mere twenty-five minutes, my ankle is already stiff and swelling.
Mick, the head trainer, sends me to the medical room and puts my foot in an ice bath. When he comes back to check on me, he gives me a tight smile. “Well, it looks like the swelling is going down.”
“Good.”
“Let me go talk to Coach.” Mick leaves the therapy room, and through the glass wall I watch him walk into the office of my hockey team’s head coach, Jon Sweetzer.
I see my teammate Igor Aristov watching me from the table next to mine where he has his own ice pack on his knee.
“Is bad?” he asks me, concern lacing his thick Russian accent.
I nod.
Alex
comes over, fresh from a massage he just got to loosen the hamstring that’s been bugging him. He looks down at the red angry scar on my ankle and back up at me. “Is it infected again?”
“I don’t think so,” I reply, and pray it’s not. I can’t fucking handle that again. “I think it’s just sensitive. I haven’t been in a skate for almost four months.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t exactly been taking it easy.” Alex smirks at me and makes a juvenile humping motion with his hips.
“Lots girls?” Igor asks.
“Yeah, Iggy.” Alex gives my shoulder a shove. “A few weeks ago when we were out, he basically banged a girl at the freaking bar.”
“That is so not true,” I defend myself. “It wasn’t at the bar, it was in the restroom. And we didn’t have sex. She just blew me.”
“And I’m still getting letters of complaint from my neighbors about the last time he borrowed my guest room.” Alex chuckles and Igor joins him, lifting his hand to give me a celebratory high-five that I ignore. Suddenly I feel kind of like that asshole I told Jessie I wasn’t.
Chris Dixon, one of the older married veterans on the team, wanders over. “Are we celebrating Garrison’s return?”
I shake my head. “Doesn’t look good.”
“We’re discussing his sexual conquests.” Alex laughs. “You remember what those are, don’t you, old man?”
Dix, as we call him, flips Alex the bird. “Yeah. I had one or two of those before I found something more fulfilling.”
Alex groans at that comment and walks off toward the showers. Igor hops off the table and follows him. Dix starts to leave too but I grab his arm.
“When did you get married?” I ask, and he looks shocked by the question. We’re pretty close. When I got traded to Seattle, he and his wife, Maxine, let me live in the guest house over their garage for a few months while I got settled. It was much better than a hotel. They always had me over for dinner, and Maxine’s cooking made up for not being able to bring home one-night stands. Still, I’d told myself that Dix was missing out being tied to a wife and a baby—two now—instead of partying and sleeping around like the rest of us.
“I was twenty-five. I didn’t make the NHL right from the draft. Spent a couple years on the farm team in Portland. I met Maxine when I was playing there,” he says, and smiles at the memory. “She was hot as hell and full of attitude. Didn’t want to date a hockey player, but I wore her down.”
“So you had your fun before you made the NHL?” I surmise.
He shakes his head. “No. I dated Maxi down in Portland, but when I made the Winterhawks, she didn’t want to move to Seattle with me. We broke up.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You were probably still in diapers,” he jokes, and I roll my eyes. Dix is only thirty-two. “I thought I was fine with it and went on to enjoy the perks of being a pro athlete in a hockey-loving town. But I realized it wasn’t all that fun.”
“How?” I know I’m being a total chick here, but I’m honestly curious.
“I went back to Portland for the summer and saw her again. She was just so…” He smiles. “How can I say this in a way you’ll understand? The sex was amazing but so was not having sex with her. And I decided I’d rather have both with one person, even if it was long distance, than just amazing sex with a hundred people.”
I must look stunned because he laughs at my expression and slaps my shoulder. “Believe it or not, Garrison, it’s probably going to happen to you one day too.”
As I think about how to answer that, the coach’s office door opens and Mick makes his way over to me again. His face is grim and I realize that this is anything but a good sign. “Coach wants us in his office.”
I sigh and hop off the table, nodding good-bye to Dix as I follow Mick.
Ten minutes later I’m staring in disbelief at my coach as he says, “I’m gonna have you stay here for the road trip.”
I feel a sharp pang of disappointment. I must be really far away from returning. If I was even remotely close, he’d let me travel with the team. I didn’t realize this was still so bad. Fuck!
“Don’t panic,” Mick says calmly, and smiles a little bit at me. “I know that this seems like a setback, but it’s not. We’re just adjusting our plan for you.”
I take a drink from my water bottle and wait to hear him out.
“We’re looking into local therapy facilities,” Mick continues. “So you can continue treatment while we’re on the road. It’s time to get aggressive with the rehab. We can’t have you waiting around while we’re at away games.”
As his words sink in, a vision of Jessie in her grandmother’s kitchen after the funeral flashes through my mind. I clear my throat and speak the words before I can even really think the idea through. “I’d like to go to Sea-Tac Sports Therapy, if it’s okay.”
“Actually, that’s one of the places we’re considering.” Coach looks to Mick.
Mick nods. “It’s a great facility and they handle a lot of professional athletes so if that’s your preference, I’ll make the call and set it up.”
“Great. Thanks.” I nod and add. “And I’d like to have Jessie Caplan work on my treatment if possible. She’s newer there, I think.”
Mick looks confused so I shrug nonchalantly. “Old family friend who happens to work there.”
Mick nods. “I can request it.”
“Hang in there, Jordan,” Coach says, standing up and walking around his desk to clap his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll get you through this as quick as we can. We want you back just as badly as you want to come back.”
I just nod and try to smile, but I know it looks tight and forced. I turn without another word and leave the office, heading straight to the showers. This is either a brilliant idea or the stupidest thing I could do, forcing myself into Jessie’s life by invading her work space. Either way, I know I have to do it because I know exactly what Dix described feeling for Maxine. It wasn’t just the sex that had felt good with Jessie so many years ago, it was everything else too. So I needed to see her again. Maybe I was insane, but I needed to know if we could get there again.
Chapter 11
Jessie
My mentor, Tori, is on the verge of being late again for our weekly check-in. I smile as she runs into the director’s office with thirty seconds to spare. I hand her the sugar-free vanilla latte I knew she wouldn’t have time to pick up herself and she smiles gratefully. Carl, the director of therapy at Sea-Tac, sits down at his desk across from us.
He glances over at Tori and smiles, his gray eyes crinkling in the corners. “As usual, I have heard nothing but good things about the work you two are doing together.”
“She’s the best intern I’ve ever worked with,” Tori tells him, smiling at me.
I feel proud and happy. It’s good to be recognized for my efforts here, especially after feeling like such a failure in life lately. All that past drama coming back to life with Chance and Jordan showing up in Silver Bay did nothing for my sense of self-confidence. Even though it had been weeks since it happened, I couldn’t shake the bad feelings it had stirred up.
“Because of the great work you’ve been doing together, I’m giving you a new patient.” Carl’s smile has changed from one of approval to one of excitement. “It’s a special assignment and it’s a big celebrity patient, but I trust you two to keep it together and do your best.”
He flips through some file folders on his desk, looking for one in particular. I glance at Tori, who seems unimpressed.
“Probably a football player,” she tells me confidently. “We get them in here all the time.”
Carl finds the file he’s looking for and passes the blue folder to Tori.
She flips it open and scans it, then sits straight up in her seat and reads it again. Her head snaps up, her blond ponytail swishing, and she stares at Carl with wide eyes.
“This is a joke, right? You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” she asks excitedly. I lean over bu
t I can’t read the file because she’s now clutching it to her chest.
Carl says, “No, Tori. It’s real. They’re trying to fast track him back into the game and they need our help.”
My heart has started hammering in my chest. Get him back in the game…it’s an athlete. I know it’s not a football player—Carl said so. Tori is a hockey fan. Tori is a Winterhawks fan.
“Oh no…” I whisper, but no one is paying attention to me.
“It’s going to have to be your main case from this point forward.” Carl runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You’ll have to go to the arena and oversee his on-ice practices too. Make sure he’s not overdoing it. His trainers say he’s not the best with restraint.”
“This can’t be happening,” I whisper, and tilt my head back, covering my face with my hands.
Tori claps her hands excitedly, clearly not reading my reaction properly. “I know! It’s so great! I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“Tori, I know how much you love the Winterhawks, which is why I gave this to you, but you need to keep it professional,” Carl advises. His bushy eyebrows knit in a paternal way, and then he glances at me. “And, Jessie, I can’t emphasize enough how big a deal this is. He’s one of their top players. Normally I would never assign an intern to someone like him, but you were requested specifically.”
I look up and see Carl and Tori staring at me. She looks less thrilled at that news.
One More Shot (Hometown Players #1) Page 10
