Rubbing my thighs which are sore from the sprints I did on the ice, I shake my head. “I think I’ll pass. Are you always this active?”
“You can’t let yourself get complacent.”
By the time we get home, it’s already past midnight. Connor goes straight to his room to prepare for his early morning run. I make myself a late-night snack—a sandwich and chips—and make my way to my room to watch that night’s highlights. I try not to focus too much on the fact that I’m not in any of them.
I had much higher expectations for myself on my first big league debut game. But Rory is right. We’ve got the whole season ahead of us. This is a marathon, not a sprint.
When the highlights start repeating, I pull out my phone. I have a voicemail from my mom and a text from Jemma. I expected the message from my mom but not the one from Jemma.
Not even knowing if she went to the game or not, I set my plate aside and open the text.
JEMMA: Thank you for the tickets… there wasn’t nearly as much toxic masculinity as I expected ;)
Smiling to myself, I slide my phone back into my pocket and finish eating.
***
After a few games on the road, we’re back in Seattle. Connor and I make our way to the training facility for some yoga to ease our aching muscles after several days of hard work.
We make our way to the locker room where we see who else will be joining us. So far it’s Connor, Logan, Marcus, Rory, Barkley, Austin, and me.
“How you doin’ today?” Austin asks as he pulls an oversized white t-shirt over his blond curls.
“A little sore,” I say, rubbing my thighs. “I can’t remember the last time I sprinted that fast on the ice.”
“Yeah, these big-league guys really know how to turn on the pressure.”
I pull on my yoga gear—black shorts and a white athletic tank top.
“You ready for yoga?” He asks. “I used to do it on campus. Man, the girls in those classes were so hot.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Apparently I’ve been doing it all wrong. All my classes were with gray-haired old ladies and buff hockey players.”
“Be thankful,” Austin says. “I spent a lot of time flirting with those girls… time I should have spent practicing.”
“Well, don’t let them distract you this time.”
“That’s no fun,” he says as we leave the locker room and walk through the team’s personal gym.
“But you just said you wasted too much time you could have spent on the ice!” I laugh.
“I still made it onto a national team, didn’t I?” He grins.
“Fine,” I say. “But I won’t mind taking all the points when you’re too sleepy to know it’s happening.” I grin back at him.
“Hey, I’m not sleepy. I’m high energy. Let’s go!”
“That’s my guy,” I say. I look around at the empty gym. “Man, they’ve got really good equipment, don’t they?”
“Not they,” Austin says. “We’ve got really good equipment. This is all ours now.”
I chuckle. “Don’t get too comfortable. Trades happen all the time.”
“Oh, come on. We’re rookies. They’re not going to trade us after the first year. Besides, you’ll never have a home if you’re always ready to move. You’ll never have a girlfriend either.”
I laugh again. “The Blades are my home now. That’s all I’m going to focus on.”
We round the corner into the activity room where I’m confronted with a familiar face. I instantly make eye contact with those big doe eyes.
There’s Jemma in her dark purple yoga pants and a black tank top. Her dirty blond hair is up in a big poofy bun and she’s wearing a headband that’s the same dark shade of purple as her pants. Her bare feet show off dark red toenails.
Recovering from the microsecond of shock, she gives me a polite smile. I’m still too thrown off guard to respond.
The guys filter in behind me.
“Everyone grab a mat,” she says. “We’ll begin shortly.”
I make my way straight to her. She rolls back her shoulders and adjusts her posture as she prepares for my approach.
“Are you stalking me?” I ask. She smells yummy like incense and peaches, matching the color of her cheeks.
She laughs. “Of course not. I’m here to teach a class.” Her long eyelashes lightly graze her brows as she looks up at me. “I honestly had no clue I was going to see you today until my ride pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes ago.”
“Wait… you didn’t know you were doing a class for us?”
She shakes her head. “I mean, I guess I should have known considering the woman who booked me was sitting next to me during the Blades game the other day. But she only mentioned that I’d be training athletes. She didn’t say that it’d be you.”
I watch her curiously.
She lifts her chin. “What?”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why?”
“You sent me a flirty text the other night.”
“Was it flirty?” A ghost of a smile flickers on her lips. “Anyway, I need to start the class, so I suggest getting a mat and picking a spot.”
I stay in place. “Are you sure you can lead these guys?”
A wrinkle of concern appears between her brows. “You don’t think I can?”
“It’s just… you use a lot of flowery language.”
Her laugh rings out. “I think I’ll be okay.”
“I’m just sayin’. There’s a lot of testosterone in here. I hope you can handle it.”
“If you’re trying to bait me into saying something embarrassing about how much testosterone I can handle, it’s not going to work.”
I keep my eyebrows raised.
“Fine,” she says. “I can tone the flowery language down. A bit.”
Feeling like I’ve accomplished my mission of annoying her just a little bit, I pull away.
“Hey,” she says. I stop and look at her again. “Good job the other night, by the way. You were right. Hockey is beautiful.”
She looks up at me with the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.
A slow smile creeps onto my face. “Why’d you have to say that? I was just feeling good about annoying you and you had to ruin it by saying something nice.”
She shrugs and gives me a smirk. “Oops.”
Still smiling, I pull away.
Finding a yoga mat, I find a space somewhere in the back row.
“Alright, everyone. I’m Jemma and I’m your instructor today.” Her voice becomes soft and soothing. “We’re going to start with our breath. Stand with your feet hip-width apart and breathe in.”
We all do as she says. I focus on my breath as I listen to the soothing tone of her hypnotic voice.
“Feel the power of your body. Feel the power of the vibrational reality within you.”
Here we go.
I smirk to myself.
Let the flowery language begin.
“When you focus on that energy radiating within you, you’ll feel the energy without you. Draw on the energy of the room, of your teammates. Pull those vibrations in like a vortex sucking straight to your core.”
My eyes are closed but I’m smirking.
This is what she considers toned down?
It’s like she can’t help herself.
“Alright, we’re moving into tree pose. Stand up straight. Prayer hands over your heart, and lift one leg. Exactly like that. Feel the stability of your body, all the way down to your feet. Breathe into your root.”
Smirking to myself, I open one eye and look at Jemma. She puts a finger over her lips, giving me a playful smile as she pretends to shoosh me.
Closing my eyes again, I’m left with my thoughts.
This behavior is not what I expect from her at all. She made it very clear the other day that she wanted her independence.
So why is she flirting with me?
She wants to eat her cake and have it too. She wants
the sexmance and the flirtmance, but not the romance. And she wants it all on her own terms.
Silly games. That’s all these are.
The question is… do I keep playing? She’s been toying with me since we met, pulling me close just to push me away. Well, this guy isn’t playing anymore. I may play hockey but I don’t play love games. It’s all or nothing with me, and I won’t give her the satisfaction of giving her my attention if she’s only going to string me along.
She made the rules. The last thing she’ll expect is for me to follow them.
Jemma continues guiding us to a state of standing meditation.
“Stretch your leg out in front of you, nice and slow,” she says in her soft voice. “Control your momentum.”
I do as she says, stretching my leg out in front of me. As I focus on her voice and my body, I find myself falling into a meditative trance. I focus on my breath and the silences in between. My body begins to tingle from head to toe as if my blood is crackling and popping. My fingers and toes feel like they’re buzzing. My body vibrates with energy. Not just my body, but my mind.
When the class is over, I feel like a new man with a new outlook on my situation. Everyone starts chatting and collecting their things. With my body still tingling from all the exercises, I look back up at Jemma. She’s talking to a blond woman wearing a silver polo shirt with a small Blades logo on it. It’s Riley. I’ve met her a few times over the past few weeks.
Putting my mat away, I follow the guys out of the activity room, sliding out the door to avoid catching Jemma’s attention.
“Jack!” Her soft voice calls out as her hand brushes my arm, stopping me before I can escape.
I turn back around. The rest of the guys slide past me except for Logan who’s hanging back to talk to Riley.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m working here,” she says. “I really need the money and it’s only once a week.”
“For how long? Like a month?”
“Until the Christmas break.”
Three months?
I don’t know if I can live in limbo like this for that long.
She looks up at me. “Anyway, I hope we can move forward and be professional.”
“Move forward?”
“Start from scratch, you know?”
I look into her big brown eyes. “You think we can start from scratch? Like, ignore everything that’s ever happened between us?”
“If that’s possible.”
I scratch the back of my head. “It’ll be hard to forget, especially when you flirt with me in the middle of class.”
“Your eyes should have been closed,” she says.
“And the flirty text?”
She gives me a quick smile. “Okay, maybe the winky-face was a bit flirty. But that’s what you and I do, right?”
“Is it?” I lower my voice so that Logan and Riley can’t hear us. “I thought we weren’t friends.”
“Friends don’t flirt like this,” she says, looking up at me.
“But Ms. Independent flirts?”
She smiles again. “Sometimes.”
Distracted by how cute she is, I force myself to pull back a bit.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t think I can start from scratch and ignore everything that’s happened between us. Some of those memories are just too sweet to give up.”
“Who’s flirting with who now?”
“That counts as flirting? Wow. I’m starting to understand why you hate your ex.”
She shakes her head and laughs. “Maybe this is too weird. I should quit.”
“No,” I say a bit too urgently. “Keep the job. I know it’s good money and you deserve this. Plus, you’re good at it.”
She gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks.”
“I just won’t take your class anymore.”
Her eyes widen and her smile disappears. “Why not?”
“It’ll make it easier for us to remain professional that way.”
Her throat moves as she swallows. “Oh.”
“And I promise not to flirt with you if I see you around.”
“Well…” She looks down at her feet and gives a half-laugh before looking back up at me. “Maybe you can flirt a bit.”
Wow.
She looks absolutely gorgeous looking up at me like that. For the first time since meeting her, I’m speechless.
Leaning in, I lower my voice. “What are you doing to me?”
Her flirty expression disappears. “What do you mean?”
“If you want your space, I’ll give it to you. But you can’t play these games with me. You can’t flirt with me right after saying you want to forget everything that has happened between us.”
A wrinkle of worry appears on her forehead as she opens her mouth to speak but she quickly closes it again. A look of regret washes over her.
Logan walks into my peripheral and pushes my shoulder. “Hey, some of the guys are gonna go practice. Wanna join?”
I look at him. “Sure, man. Give me a minute.”
Logan nods and leaves. I look back at Jemma.
“If you want to be professional, then let’s be professional. But don’t come to me looking for a swimming partner if all you want to do is dip your toes in the water. If you want to flirt, do it with someone else.” I pull back. Her doe-eyed gaze lingers. “Bye, Jemma.”
I catch one last glimpse of her concerned brown eyes and peachy cheeks before I pull away.
My body is tingling from head to toe as I make my way to the locker room with Logan. I’m lost in my thoughts as I pull on my practice uniform.
Fuck.
I’m so confused. Jemma is so fucking cute and witty and irresistible. I’m like a magnet, hopelessly attracted to her. But she drives me absolutely insane. The easiest way to avoid all these mixed signals is to avoid her completely.
“Come on, Casanova,” Logan says, gently punching my arm. “Whatever it is you’re thinking about, sweat it out on the ice.”
He hands me my gloves.
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
At least I’ll try.
JEMMA
Madison and I are seated at a table outside Sun and Moon Terrace as we drink our artisan iced coffees. An early autumn breeze carries the smell of freshly baked croissants from the bakery down the lane. Soft salsa music is accompanied by the sound of two children playing hopscotch on the cobblestones nearby.
“I can’t believe this,” I say.
I’ve been working my butt off all week and this is the first time I get an extended lunch break to process what happened back at the Blades facility. And by process, I mean freak out.
“Well, what did you expect?” Madison looks up at me. “You met that lady at the Blades game, in the family section. And she said she wanted you to teach yoga to athletes!”
“I didn’t know she meant them.” I sigh. “I completely blew it between us.” I bury my face in my hands.
“Just tell him you want to go out on a date.”
“I think it’s too late for that. I’ve pushed him away one too many times. He said we should avoid each other.”
“Nonsense.” Madison uses her spoon to fish the mint leaves out of her iced coffee. “Why do they even put these in here? First, they freeze, then they get all mushy! Gross.”
“I mean, the universe must be sending me a message, right?” I stare absently as Madison struggles with the second mint leaf. “I should just quit that job, right?”
“Oh, no. You better not quit now.” She looks up at me with a sharp stare.
“Why not?”
“Think of the cash! You’re getting, what, an extra two grand a month? That’s huge! You’ll be able to work less which is great for me because we haven’t had a coffee together since the hockey game. And look at you! You’re tired, you’re stressed. Yoga is supposed to calm you, not make you more frazzled than Ms. Frizzle.”
I laugh. “What?”
“This is what you need to do: stay with the Blades, fin
d a replacement for Chelsea already, and give yourself a damn rest! Preferably in the form of a hot hockey player.”
I rub my tired face. “I want to kiss him again so bad.”
“Then ask him out! He’s cute, talented, and he’ll be rich and famous soon.” She finally wins her battle with the mint leaves as she happily sips her drink.
“He pulled away from me, Maddy. He pulled away.”
She looks at me with a tired stare. “Fine. Be single. That’s what you wanted, right?”
I stare at my swirling coffee. “Maybe this will give me time to finally get rid of Brendon’s old shirts.”
Madison’s expression drops. “You still have his old shirts? Now, honey, that’s a problem.”
“Life has been a roller-coaster since we broke up. I haven’t had time to even think about it.” I exhale heavily. “A two-year relationship and it barely felt worth mourning. It’s like a death without a funeral.”
“Oh, hon. That’s what the sex with Jack was supposed to be! That was supposed to open the window to a new era.”
“I know,” I mumble, poking at the mushy mint leaves in my drink. “Instead it just opened a can of worms.”
“No wonder you’re all messed up and confused. You’ve got bad energy lurking in your room.” Madison digs into her purse and pulls out a handful of bills. “We’re fixing this right now.”
She slams the bills on the table and gets up. She takes the last few sips of her coffee before licking her lips and placing the empty glass on the table.
“Come on.” She grabs my arm and pulls me down Apple Tree Lane.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“Exorcising demons,” she says.
We make our way around to the back alley and through my kitchen entrance since Naomi is currently teaching a class in the studio.
Quietly, we make our way through my kitchen where Madison grabs the scissors before we make our way up the stairs to my room. I go to my dresser and open the bottom drawer where I see Brendon’s ratty vintage t-shirts. One is for a local brewery while the other two are band shirts.
I stare at the shirts longingly. There’s so much history attached to them, so many memories. Not all of them great.
“Alright.” Madison holds up the scissors, snapping them in the air a few times. “Let’s do this.”
Jack: An Enemies To Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Hockey Book 2) Page 13
