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

by Violette Paradis

  “Actually, I do. There’s something I want to ask you.” He takes my hand in his and looks into my eyes. “Now, I know this might be a bit forward, but I was wondering if you want to go to a wedding with me?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “A wedding?”

  “Yeah. Logan and Riley’s. It’s the first week of December.”

  “Oh.” I slip my hand out of his. “Going to a wedding is a serious thing…”

  Almost as serious as having a baby.

  “But we’re not the ones getting married. Think of it as a really fancy date.”

  “A really fancy date surrounded by very serious couples who will be grilling us and asking us questions about when our turn will be?”

  First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage…

  “So?” He asks. “We’ll just tell them that we just started dating.”

  “Don’t you get it, though? Going to a wedding is an intimate thing. Something serious couples do.”

  His smile disappears. “Why can’t that be us?”

  I touch my burning neck. “Is it getting hard to breathe?”

  “Jemma.” He takes my hands in his. “Breathe. It’s okay. I’m not asking you to marry me or anything. I just want to go to a really fun party with you where we can celebrate our friends getting married.”

  Things are starting to feel like they’re moving really fast. I’m starting to feel dizzy.

  “Why can’t we just stay here?” I ask. “Right where we are?”

  “What’s wrong with going to a wedding?” There’s confusion on his face.

  “What’s wrong with not going to a wedding?”

  “Because if I go to that wedding alone, I won’t have fun because I’ll spend the whole night wishing you were there with me.”

  “Damn.” I kick at the ground. “That’s actually really sweet.”

  He touches my chin, lifting my gaze so that I’m looking at him.

  “Come to the wedding with me,” he says. “Just say yes.”

  I shake my head. “I have to think about it.”

  And take a pregnancy test first…

  “No, don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

  “Jack—”

  He pulls back, breaking the connection between us. He turns away, a vulnerable look on his face. This is the first time I’ve seen him look hurt like this.

  “Jack, are you okay?”

  “You know, it’s frustrating.” He shakes his head. “I’ve grown to care about you so much and all I want to do is love you and cherish you, but you won’t let me. And I can’t help but wonder, is it me? Is there something wrong with me?”

  “No, Jack, there’s nothing wrong with you.” I reach for him but he pulls back.

  “Then what is it?” He looks up at me. “Do you not like me? Because I’m pretty sure you do. And if you’re afraid to break up then let’s end things now. Because it isn’t worth going through all this if you’re only gonna dip your toes in.”

  “Jack—” I look into his eyes. “There’s no reason to tear this all down before we even try.”

  “But you won’t even let me try! That’s the point. You keep thinking I’m going to dump you like your last boyfriend did but I promise you I won’t.” His dark honey-flecked eyes urge me to believe him. “I’ve been broken up with too. And it’s okay. We survived, and we can get into relationships again.”

  He touches my cheek.

  “If only you just let me in,” he says. His voice is low and serious. “We’re already there.”

  The touch of his hand feels soft and gentle. I can smell his familiar invigorating cedar scent. I find myself speechless before him. When he realizes I’m not going to say anything, he shakes his head and pulls his hand from my cheek. His Adam’s apple moves in his throat as he swallows.

  “I need time.” He pulls away.

  “Jack, wait!” I call out but he disappears through the fog.

  I’m completely alone. My chest feels hot and my throat is tight.

  What the hell just happened?

  I pull my phone out and text him.

  JEMMA: Please come back.

  I wait and wait, but there’s no response. He doesn’t even read it.

  I shake my head and rub my face. Everything was perfect a few moments ago and now I’m in a state of shock. Tears start welling up in my eyes.

  “Trick or treat!” A small voice says.

  I look down to see a small devil standing in front of my cauldron.

  Hiding the sadness on my face, I force a smile as I reach into the cauldron and hand him a few pieces of candy.

  “Thank you!” He scurries away.

  I look around. The sky is dark and there are no more kids on Apple Tree Lane. Music is pumping out of the bar nearby but I don’t feel much like partying. In fact, I feel sick to my stomach.

  I text Jack again.

  JEMMA: Can we talk?

  Still no response.

  Debating if I should go to the pharmacy and get a pregnancy test, I decide against it. I don’t have the energy and all I want to do is cry.

  Bringing the cauldron, the stool, and the fog machine inside, I lock up the studio and crawl into bed even though it’s not even nine o’clock. Setting my phone on my dresser, I angle it so I can see the screen… just in case Jack messages me.

  JACK

  Walking down Apple Tree Lane, I feel heated and my breathing is heavy. I’m curling my fingers into fists as I walk. I can hear people having fun at the bars and restaurants but that world feels a thousand miles away. I’m in my own personal hell.

  Several half-drunk women call out to me as I walk by.

  “Hello, Romeo,” one says.

  “Can I buff your armor?”

  They cackle as I ignore them.

  Taking a shortcut away from Apple Tree Lane, I find myself winding through the back alleys where I can reach Connor’s place easier.

  As I walk, I think about Jemma.

  What does she want from me?

  We clearly have an amazing connection and we like each other. A lot. So why is she pushing me away? Why is she so scared?

  She knows I won’t dump her like her scumbag ex did.

  If only she gave me a chance but she’s barely even giving me that. I thought we made progress. I thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend. But this? This is frustrating beyond all hell.

  I work up a sweat as I make my way back home.

  When I push through the front door, I see Connor sitting on the couch in the living room watching that night’s sports highlights. He’s wearing a cow onesie which I assume is what he wore when he was giving out candy.

  “Hey.” He looks up at me. The snout of the cow-head hoodie is falling into his eyes. “Is everything okay? You look sweaty.”

  “Yeah, I just walked home.”

  He sits up a bit more alertly. “Are you alright?”

  I scratch the back of my head. “Just a rough night.”

  “Come.” He gestures to the couch. “Sit down.”

  Being summoned to sit down and talk with a grown man wearing a cow onesie is usually not a good idea, but I’m feeling so exasperated that I’m going against my better judgment and taking a seat on the couch across from him. I pull the fake armor and chainmail off so that I’m just wearing a grey sweater that’s currently clinging to my sweaty body.

  I take in a deep breath and exhale heavily.

  “It’s Jemma,” I say.

  “Your girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend. Not anymore, at least.”

  “Oh?” There’s a sad tone in his voice.

  “She doesn’t like commitment or future plans. And I stupidly asked her to go to Logan’s wedding with me.” I sink back into the couch.

  “And she said no?”

  “She said she’d think about it.”

  “Then hope isn’t completely lost.” Connor rubs his chin. “Although I wonder if she’s saying this because of the commitment asp
ect, or because of her feelings for you.”

  “Well, I just hoped that she liked me enough to get over the commitment part of it.”

  Connor leans forward and pulls the cow hoodie off. “Fears are often irrational. You wouldn’t ask someone to get over their fear of flying just to visit a loved one.”

  “That’s true,” I say. “My mom, Sylvie, doesn’t fly.”

  “See? And you don’t force her to come out here and watch you play.”

  A guilty feeling churns in my belly. “That’s not for a lack of trying.”

  “You didn’t resent her for saying no though.”

  “That’s true.” I think about my sweet mom watching me on her tiny television. “Although I’m sure I’ll get her out here one day.”

  “In her own time.”

  I sigh. “That’s right. In her own time. And the same with Jemma.”

  Connor nods.

  “I’m just impatient.” I rub my legs. “If I see something—or someone—I want in my life, I want it right away so that I can enjoy it to the fullest, you know? Why waste time?”

  “Do you think, in an ideal world, that you could potentially marry her?”

  I think for a moment. A life with Jemma flashes before my eyes. I see a beautiful house, just like this one. Maybe one a bit closer to Apple Tree Lane so she could be close to the studio. The studio, of course, would be renovated to include a second yoga room and a massage room, just like Jemma wants. I’d get to see on all the nights I’m back home and not just on days where our schedules mesh.

  “Yes,” I say. “I can see myself with her.”

  “So, if you know she might potentially be your partner for life, why rush? You’ve got your whole life to be together.”

  I pause and look up at him. “Damn, that’s some interesting philosophy you’ve got there.”

  He smiles. “I think I’m a better mentor for relationships than for hockey.”

  I laugh.

  “We’ll see about that.” I look down at my feet. “So that’s all I can do, huh? Wait?”

  “What else can you do?”

  “I don’t know.” I look around the room. “I just care for her so much that I want to scream it from the rooftops. I want to show up outside her door with roses every day and tell her I won’t stop thinking about her. I want to write her letter after letter telling her why we belong together.”

  Connor laughs. “I don’t think any of those things will go over the way you think they will. Especially when she wants to take things slow.”

  “I know.” I slump deeper into the couch. “I just hate this situation so much. I know a genuine connection when I see one. But I refuse to be in a relationship that’s restricted by certain conditions when I don’t have any say in what those conditions are. She needs to make a decision or move on.”

  Connor clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I don’t know, kid.”

  “What?” I look up at him.

  “That kind of all-or-nothing strategy works for hockey but you might need a bit more nuance for a real-life relationship. People are complex beings. They can’t just fit together and work in sync just like that. You’ve seen how much practice we need on the ice for something as simple as passing the puck to each other.”

  I drop my head back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. “You’re right.”

  Connor gets up off his chair. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. We have that flight out east at ten tomorrow morning.”

  “Right.” Pushing myself off the couch before I sink any lower, I stand up and grab my fake armor. “Thanks for the talk, Connor.”

  I clasp his hand and squeeze.

  “No problem,” he says. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

  I shake my head. “I won’t see Jemma for another few days. I need to focus on our road trip anyway. A lot of big games coming up this week.”

  “That’s right. The Cincinnati Storm is a scary team so you better get your beauty sleep. You’ll need all the energy you can muster.”

  “Thanks, bud.”

  After wishing him a good night, I make my way out of the living room and down to my room.

  As I fall back on my big empty bed, I wonder if I made a mistake pushing Jemma too hard too soon. I knew she hated commitment and she wanted to go slow. But what else was I supposed to do? Go to a wedding alone? And where does it end? Work events? Holidays? Parties?

  I won’t be a part-time boyfriend who only shows up when it’s convenient for her.

  Besides, going to a destination wedding isn’t that big a deal. Right?

  Rolling over in bed, I stare at the clock wondering what she’s doing. Touching my lips, I wonder if tonight’s pink-flavored kiss was the last one I’d ever have with her. A feeling of emptiness pools in my stomach but I swallow it back.

  Unable to let my weary mind rest, I spend all night staring at the clock and trying to sleep until it’s time to get up and get ready for the team’s five-day road trip out east.

  Exhausted, I shower and gather some clean clothes into a bag. I search for my phone even though I don’t want to see any of the messages on it. I can’t handle hearing Jemma’s excuses and having my heart broken again.

  “Jack!” Connor calls for me. “We gotta go!”

  “I’m coming!” I call out.

  Unable to find my phone, I give up and stuff a few more things into my bag. It’ll turn up eventually. It always does. Rushing upstairs, I get into the car and head to the airport with Connor.

  A bit of silence and the distraction of hockey will be nice. If space is what Jemma wants, then that’s exactly what she’ll get.

  JEMMA

  The next day I wake up with a massive headache from all the tension and stress that I’m holding in my jaw. Dragging myself out of bed, I check my phone and I’m heartbroken all over again to see that I have zero messages from Jack. He hasn’t even read the texts I sent him.

  This is unusual for him but, then again, last night was our first fight. And possibly our last one too.

  Fuck.

  Why did he have to ask me to go to that wedding with him? He knows I hate committing to future plans like that!

  I realize my hands are balled into fists.

  Breathing out slowly, I try to release the tension.

  I try to go about my morning as usual but an extra layer of nausea hits me when I notice that I still haven’t gotten my period yet.

  Why is everything happening all at once?

  Using the special eucalyptus soap that I’ve been saving for a special occasion, I take a nice long shower in an effort to rejuvenate myself. The invigorating minty scent fills the bathroom as I attempt to wash away the stress and tears.

  With Liz and Naomi scheduled for the day’s yoga classes, I have the day off. A full day to ruminate and obsess over what happened. Wondering what to do, I look at my phone. If Jack is ignoring me, then I’ll leave him alone. I know that he’s flying out to Cincinnati today and he won’t be back until the end of the week. God, that seems so far away. But I don’t want to flood his phone with text messages like a deranged stalker.

  Besides, it’s him who should be messaging me. He’s the one who knew I wasn’t ready for any of this. He’s the one who pushed this relationship on me when I told him I wasn’t ready.

  Argh.

  Deep down, I know I’m just as complicit in all this. The possible pregnancy scared me, and so did the invite to the wedding. What we had was so good. Why did the universe conspire to mess this up?

  I want to scream but I know I can’t disturb the yoga class downstairs. Instead, I pace aggressively across my room as I go over the situation a hundred times in my head.

  When I feel like I’ve sufficiently driven myself crazy, I grab my sweater and head out. The fresh November air cools me down as I walk to the pharmacy a few blocks away. Wandering through the store, I pick up some aspirin, a pregnancy test, a bottle of cheap white wine, and one chocolate bar. After hesitating a moment
, I make it two chocolate bars. The pimply teenager behind the counter raises his eyebrow when he sees the pregnancy test paired with the alcohol but I don’t care. If the test is negative, I want to be prepared.

  When I make my way back to the apartment, I put the wine in the fridge and bring everything else up to my room with me. After taking some aspirin and a bite of chocolate, I place the pregnancy test on my dresser next to my tarot cards and crystals.

  I stare at the box. All it would take is a few measly minutes and I’d know the truth. But for some reason, I can’t bring myself to take it. If it’s negative, then that’s the last little bit of Jack that would be taken from me. But if it’s positive, then I’d be pregnant. I swallow past the lump in my throat.

  “I should just take it, right?” I look at Lilith who’s sitting at my feet, staring up at me with curious green eyes.

  I exhale.

  “Just take it,” I urge myself.

  Grabbing the box, I march over to the bathroom before chickening out, reversing course, and putting it back on my dresser.

  I don’t even know what result I want to see. How can I? I don’t even know what’s going on between me and Jack. How can I commit to raising a baby if I can’t even commit to going to a wedding with the baby’s father?

  Argh!

  My phone buzzes. I have one new message. My heart jumps before seeing that it’s from Madison. She’s asking where I was last night. I swipe the message away and rub my face. The eucalyptus shower from earlier did nothing to make me feel less stressed.

  Grabbing the chocolate bar, I take another bite. I can’t spend all day staring at the pregnancy test and waiting for Jack to text me.

  Deciding to take some mental self-care, I pull my bike out of the corner of my room where it’s been taken over by cobwebs. Dusting it off, I guide it downstairs and outside before going on a long ride along the beach.

  It’s been so long since I’ve gone for a bike ride that I almost forgot how wonderful the freedom of riding feels—the scent of the trees and the salty air, the cool breeze blowing through my hair, the blood pumping through my veins. Being with Brendon for all those years really sucked the small joys away from my life.

  Veering away from the bay, I make my way into the forest. When I reach a familiar spot near the woods, I slow down and hop off, guiding my bike down a path in the grass. I walk until I see a small bonfire burning in the clearing. An RV is parked nearby.