Jack: An Enemies To Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Hockey Book 2)

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Jack: An Enemies To Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Hockey Book 2) Page 15

by Violette Paradis


  She gives us an innocent shrug. “Oops.”

  Walking out from behind the counter, she steps out into the living room to greet the arriving guest.

  “I’m sorry man,” Logan says. “I didn’t know she would put you on the spot like that.”

  “What?” I ask absently. I’m barely paying attention as I’m lifting onto my toes, trying to watch as the elevator opens.

  “Hello,” Jemma’s voice says as she steps out into the living room.

  I swallow.

  She steps inside, smiling and looking jubilant as she scans the apartment. She’s wearing a black-draped dress with lots of heavy silver necklaces and bracelets. Her long sunkissed hair is wavy and wild. Compared to Riley’s clean-cut airline stewardess look, Jemma’s dark clothes and berry lips make her look like a sorceress rock star.

  “What a beautiful place you have here!” She says as she looks around the room. Her eyes land on me and her smile wavers.

  For a moment it feels like we’re the only two people in the room. The tension tightens between us as we stare at each other.

  “Oh, hey!” Austin loudly struts back into the room in his heavy cowboy boots. “Sorry ‘bout that. I was talkin’ to Leo. Anyway, I hope y’all haven’t been waitin’ for me to eat—”

  His eyes grow wide as he sees Jemma across the room.

  “Well, hello there.” He makes his way across the room. “Have we met?”

  “Jemma,” she says. “From the yoga class.”

  “Oh, right! You look different when you’re not in your yoga gear.”

  Jemma’s eyes quickly flash to mine and away again. She gives Austin a polite smile.

  There’s a weird tension in the room thanks to Riley’s matchmaking confession still lingering in the air.

  Jemma looks around the room.

  “Hey.” Her eyes connect with mine.

  “Hi,” I say.

  More awkward silence. I’m now realizing how quiet it is. I could have sworn there was music playing.

  “I brought this.” She holds up a bottle of red wine.

  “Perfect!” Riley grabs the bottle before rushing back to the kitchen and finding a wine glass. “I’ll pour you a glass of what I have and we’ll drink our way to this one.”

  Logan must have sensed the awkward silence because he puts on some soft instrumental jazz.

  Great. As if this place needs be more romantic.

  I look back up at Jemma. She’s already holding a glass of wine while Austin chats with her, asking her where she’s from.

  I keep my distance. I made it clear to her the other day that I would give her the space she wanted. We’re supposed to be keeping things professional.

  Logan makes his way over to me.

  “I swear, I didn’t realize this was happening.”

  “It’s fine,” I lie, feeling the heat in my chest. “We’re both adults.”

  “Good.” He pats me on the shoulder as he starts talking about his lasagna-making process.

  Tuning him out, I look across the room at Jemma. Austin is clearly flirting with her. I can tell by the way he’s leaning in and asking questions, staring intently into her eyes. My grip on the whiskey glass tightens as I watch her respond with a flirty smile.

  After a few minutes, she turns and looks around. Her brown eyes find mine. The whiskey has given me enough fire in my belly to simply stare back with confidence.

  Disarmed by my gaze, she looks away and back up at Austin. He says something and she laughs a bit louder than she usually does.

  My jaw tenses.

  Logan squeezes my shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Pulling away from watching Jemma flirt with Austin, I hold up my glass.

  “A refill would be nice.”

  JEMMA

  Oh god, this is going to be a weird night. And it’s too late to back out. I already have a glass of wine in my hands and I’ve already taken more than a few sips.

  “And when I made top five in Tennessee, I knew I’d be picked,” Austin says. “Getting picked was the best dang thing to happen in my life.”

  “What?” I look up at the huge bearded man in front of me. He has very kind blue eyes and curly blond hair. “Oh, right.”

  I’m distracted by Logan across the room. He’s looking at the wall of trophies with Logan. He looks sexier than I’d like to admit in that fitted dark blue sweater which shows off his broad shoulders and dark eyes. His hair is styled in a way that makes him look like a movie star.

  But there’s something tense about him. I can tell by the stress in his shoulders and jaw.

  He’s not happy that I’m here.

  And why would he be? He made it clear the other day that he’s annoyed by mixed signals.

  I take another sip of my pinot noir.

  “So do y’all go to some sort of yoga college or somethin’?” Austin asks.

  I blink up at him, forgetting that we were in the middle of a conversation.

  “Excuse me a minute.” Pulling away from him, I make my way to the kitchen and find Riley.

  “How’s it going?” Riley asks nonchalantly.

  “Good.” I think. “Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”

  “No problem! I just wanted all the newbies to feel like part of the team. And since you’re a part of our team, you belong here too!”

  I force a smile. “Great. Hey, do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

  “Sure. The guest bathroom is just around here.”

  “Thanks.”

  Putting my wine on the counter, I rush away from the kitchen. Following Riley’s directions, I cross the living room and catch Jack’s eye. His steamy glare settles on me for a second. I pull away toward the bathroom.

  My heart is pounding in my chest as I close the door behind me.

  “Oh my god.”

  Pulling my phone out of my dress pocket, I text Madison.

  JEMMA: Jack’s here at the dinner party. WTF!!! What do I do?

  Thankfully, she responds right away.

  MADISON: OMG! Seriously? I love the universe!

  I exhale heavily as I aggressively tap my phone, texting her back.

  JEMMA: I don’t. This feels like a cruel joke. What am I supposed to do?

  MADISON: Drink and have fun? Flirt with him? Tell him how you feel?

  Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I look up into the mirror. My cheeks are hot and pink. I don’t know why I ask Madison for advice when I already know what she’ll say. And I don’t know why I’m questioning myself when I know what I have to do. I have to be professional with these people. This is basically a work party. These are my co-workers!

  Letting out a huge breath, I shake my head and laugh.

  Who the hell am I kidding? Austin’s been flirting with me since I walked into the apartment. Plus, Logan and Riley are together. This isn’t a group that has a lot of boundaries.

  This is so weird.

  I think back to the Lovers card on the floor of my bedroom.

  “Universe, I swear if you’re screwing with me…”

  The lights in the bathroom flicker off and on. I laugh.

  “You have a funny sense of humor,” I mumble.

  Taking in a deep breath, I look back at my reflection in the mirror.

  I need to make a decision. Either I let myself wither like a wilting petal or I let all the best energies inside me radiate out and make this a fun and professional night.

  I look into my smokey eyes.

  Fun and professional.

  I don’t think there’s ever been a bigger oxymoron.

  “Just have fun,” I say to myself.

  After washing my hands, I fluff my hair and check my plum lip stain. I rarely wear makeup but I was in the mood today. I went with a witchy boho-chic style tonight and I think it’s working.

  I cringe knowing that Jack will think I got dressed up for him.

  My phone buzzes. Reaching into the pocket of my dress, I c
heck the message.

  MADISON: So???

  Without responding, I turn off my phone and shove it back in my pocket before heading back out to socialize.

  Stepping back into the dining room, I’m greeted by a very clingy Austin.

  “I was wonderin’ where you were,” he says with a flirty smile. “So, you’re from Seattle?”

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “Nice.” He’s standing right in front of me, cornering me and blocking my view of the rest of the room. The scent of his sour sweat mixes with the whiskey on his breath. I hold my breath while trying to look around him.

  “Do you think we’ll eat soon?” I ask.

  “They just took the lasagna out of the oven. It has to sit for a few minutes.”

  I manage to see Logan standing alone at the window where he’s looking out at twilight falling over the twinkling city lights. He’s got one hand in his pocket and the other is holding a glass of whiskey.

  “Excuse me,” I say. “I’m just going to grab my drink.”

  “Oh!” Austin slaps his forehead. “Duh! I didn’t even realize you didn’t have it. Here, let me get it for you-

  “No! That’s okay,” I interject. “I’ll get it myself.”

  I manage to zip around him and get to the kitchen before he can try to be the hero again. Both Logan and Riley have their backs to me as they poke at the lasagna. I manage to grab my glass of wine before making my way across the room to Jack.

  “Hey,” I say as I sneak up on him. I can tell he’s watching me in the window’s reflection.

  “Hey,” he says, turning to face me. His expression is serious, formal. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  I’m distracted by how handsome he is. His brown eyes sparkle against his royal blue sweater. He smells delicious, like cedar and clean laundry. I breathe him in.

  “I know this might be hard to believe,” I say, “but I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You know, I actually believe that.”

  I circle my fingertip around the rim of my wine glass. “Did you know I’d be here?”

  He shakes his head. “But even if I knew, I’d still come.”

  I smile. There’s an awkward pause between us.

  “You’ve got an admirer,” he says, looking across the room at Austin who’s watching us.

  “I know.”

  “You know, you don’t have to fake-flirt with him just to try and make me jealous.”

  I look at him. “What makes you think I’m faking it?”

  “Because you left him to come talk to me.”

  My cheeks burn.

  “Is it working?” I ask. “Are you jealous?”

  He pauses. “Do you want me to be?”

  He watches me for a moment before slowly sipping his whiskey.

  Half-annoyed and half-impressed, I stare at him. How is he always able to twist my words into something that makes me hate him and love him at the same time?

  “Listen,” I say, “I didn’t mean what I said the other day about forgetting everything between us.”

  He narrows his gaze and looks at me suspiciously. “You didn’t?”

  My heart is thumping in my chest. “What I really want to tell you is—”

  “Dinner’s ready!” Logan calls out.

  Logan and Austin are carrying plates out to the table while Riley follows behind with a big bowl of salad.

  “What do you really want to tell me?” He asks. His voice is low, hushed. It’s the same voice he used when we were in bed together, the one that manages to awaken everything inside me.

  “Come get it while it’s still hot!” Austin says from across the room. He’s standing at the dining room table, waving me over.

  Looking at Jack’s smoldering glare one last time, I pull away as I walk to the table. Logan and Riley are both sitting on the same side, leaving three empty seats—the two opposite them and the head of the table.

  “I’ll take this seat.” Austin sits in the middle seat, forcing Jack and me to separate.

  I sit at the head of the table between Austin and Riley while Jack sits on Austin’s other side. I look at him across the table as we make momentary eye contact over the candlelight. The reflection of the flames flicker in his eyes. His dark gaze is fleeting but loaded with meaning. The muscle in his jaw tenses as he looks away.

  He knows what I want to tell him.

  Taking another sip of my wine, I preoccupy myself by filling my plate. I try not to look up at him. It’s a monumental task but I can handle a challenge.

  While everyone reminisces about the Blades game played the previous night, I sit quietly.

  “Do you watch hockey?” Austin asks, noticing that I’m not talking.

  “Last week’s game was my first game.”

  “What?”

  “Ever?” Logan asks. He looks around the table in disgust. “How is that possible?”

  Jack simply smirks. I’m temporarily transported to that night in my bed where we had this exact conversation. Shaking away the memory of Jack’s naked body, I bring myself back to the present moment.

  “Riley had to explain the rules to me as we watched,” I explain.

  “It’s true,” Riley says. “She didn’t even know what offside meant.”

  “That’s… sad.” Austin frowns.

  Feeling a bit like an outsider, I look down and poke at my plate.

  “But you enjoyed the game, right?” Jack asks.

  Looking up at him, I nod and smile. “Yeah, I did.”

  A slow smile creeps across his face—the first one all night.

  “Good,” he says.

  His smile is so genuine that I can’t help but smile back.

  There it is. That energy that sparks between us.

  Across the table, Riley makes a high-pitched squealing noise. We all look at her.

  “Sorry,” she says, touching her neck. “Something caught in my throat.”

  She takes a swig of wine.

  “It’s these blouses with the neck-bow.” Logan tugs at the large bow around her neck. “It makes her look like a secretary. Or a present.”

  “No, it doesn’t!” Still, she pulls at the bow around her neck, loosening it a bit. “I like my big bow.”

  I gently laugh as I take a sip of my wine.

  Looking back at Jack, my eyes connect with his. I use my glass to hide my smile as I drink.

  “So, you grew up here?” Austin asks, pulling my attention away. “Your family too?”

  “Sort of. I grew up in a van by the beach.”

  This gets everyone’s attention. It always does. Jack leans forward so that he can see me around Austin’s hulking body. His cool eyes watch me curiously.

  “In a van?” He asks.

  “My parents were hippies. Still are, I guess. My mom teaches practical skills to children. Kind of like the scouts out in the woods. My dad used to grow plants…”

  “Oh, my dad’s a farmer too!” Austin says. “What did your dad grow? Potatoes? Apples?”

  “Marijuana,” I say bluntly. There’s no reason to tiptoe around it.

  This also gets everyone’s attention, as it usually does.

  “Whoa,” Austin says.

  “Did he ever get caught?” Jack asks, shifting forward in his seat.

  “Of course,” I say. “He went to jail for a year when I was in high school.”

  “Does he still do it?” Austin asks.

  I laugh and shake my head. “No. He became some sort of a poker genius when he was in jail. As soon as he got out, he bought a motorbike and drove down to Vegas to play poker for a living.”

  “Good life,” Logan says, knocking back his whiskey.

  “Wait a minute…” Jack leans in. “Is your father Roman Reeves?”

  My eyes widen. “Yes! Oh my god, I so rarely meet people who know who he is.”

  “I’ve watched videos of him online,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “He�
�s… a character.”

  “Yeah, he has his moments.” I take another swig of wine.

  Austin has his phone out and is typing furiously. “Whoa, here he is!”

  He holds the phone up for me to see a picture of my dad, looking like a biker version of Santa Claus.

  “Yup,” I say unenthusiastically. “That’s my dad.”

  “He’s a millionaire.” Austin taps at the screen.

  “I wouldn’t know,” I say. “When I asked him for a loan to start my business he said it was character-building for me to make my own money.”

  “I thought being a hippie was all about free love and sharing the wealth,” Jack says.

  I snort. “I guess jail hardened him.”

  Jack watches me for a little while longer, clearly surprised by my secretive past. Ignoring his gaze, I tilt my head back and drink the last little bit of wine.

  “Can I have more, please?” I hold out my empty glass.

  “On it.” Riley is already on her feet and grabbing the extra bottle from the kitchen. “Here you go.”

  She pops off the cork and fills my glass.

  “What about you guys?” I ask. I look at Austin first. “What was life like in Tennessee?”

  “Boring,” Austin says, combing his fingers through his blond beard. “My family is straight out of a TV show. My mom is a secretary for a small bank, my dad owns a modest soybean farm. It was just me and my little sister growin’ up.”

  There’s a momentary silence at the table as one jazz song ends and another begins.

  I look at Jack, expecting him to talk next but he doesn’t. He looks down at his glass.

  “What about you, Jack?” Riley asks, saving me from having to do it.

  He looks up as if surprised to be part of the conversation.

  “Oh, me? Well, I was born in New York City to a teenage mom. I was adopted by her French teacher, a widow from Quebec. My adoptive mom raised me in Quebec City.” He shrugs. “That’s about it. I grew up playing hockey. I moved around Canada playing for different teams before getting drafted to play for the minor league back in New York City. I was there for a few years and now I’m here.”

  “Wow,” I say, suddenly seeing him in a new light. “Have you ever met your biological mom?”

  “Yeah, a few times. She’s pretty cool. She’s more like a cool aunt that I see every few years. She had a son a few years ago—Grayson. They come to my games when I play in New York.”

 

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