Page 62 of Playoff
JJ might not have meant to, but he’d gotten me. I could only imagine what he’d do if he ever learned about Jess and me.
Jess
* * *
I’d been in Europe when everything blew up in our lives. At that point, I’d loved my brother but I’d mostly been concerned about my own life. He had hockey and Mia and was all set. I was still figuring out what I would do.
But that had changed after I returned. When I saw the mess my parents’ risk-taking had made of our lives and what it had done to my twin. I’d felt small, petty, when JJ was sacrificing to keep us afloat. I’d sworn I’d make it up to him. I wouldn’t be selfish, the way our parents were. Unfortunately, that meant I had ten years of repressed selfishness stored up, and Alek had uncorked it all.
After Hamilton, I promised myself I was done. We were done. Also, I would never go to that hotel again. Checking out after a two-hour stay with no luggage? Yeah, they knew exactly what we were doing. Probably thought one of us was married and cheating. In a way, I kind of was, but I didn’t follow that train of thought since it was getting a little incesty. I wasn’t breaking a marital vow, but one that was just as important to me.
When I got to the condo, Justin wasn’t back yet but he pinged to let me know he would be home a bit later. I’d texted him that I’d been with a friend, and I guess that was true? We’d shared secrets and body parts, so friend wasn’t a stretch.
Except no more meetups, since they always led to us sleeping together. Alek was hot and the sex was fantastic, but I wasn’t sure just how much it would damage my relationship with Justin, let alone how my parents would respond. Would it affect the team? They’d just started winning. Upsetting team chemistry could put them on a losing streak again.
I kept repeating this, but my subconscious wasn’t listening. The next couple of nights, I dreamt of those two times we’d been together and built up a whole playlist of new possibilities. Nights of frustrating dreams made me tense and snappy at work. I knew I was doing the right thing, avoiding Alek, but my willpower was weakening. I’d pulled out my phone to block his number so many times, but it was still there.
Then I got the text. Fortunately I was in my room, not out in the living room with my brother who was of course watching a hockey game.
K: Fitch is out on a date tonight.
Me: Good. I hope he has a wonderful time.
The guy was divorced, and Katie wanted to find him someone—she liked him. She’d checked in case I’d be interested, but I’d told her that dating a teammate of my twin’s was asking for trouble. I rolled my eyes at myself. At the time, I’d meant it too.
K: Just saying. If you want to prove you have sexy underwear…
Me: I’ll send you a photo.
K: You’re going to send me photos of you in sexy underwear? How very daring.
Me: Who said I’d be in them?
I was smiling widely, enjoying teasing him.
K: If you’re not in them, how can you prove they’re yours?
I could think of lots of ways. Spread them out on my bed, in my room. Of course, he’d never seen my room so that wouldn’t be much proof. I could show my drawer, with the boring but comfortable pairs he’d seen. Would he remember my boring panties? Was there anything that would show they were mine?
I could put them on. I only had a couple of pairs since I didn’t have an exciting sex life, and a red lace push-up bra and panty set was the furthest thing from practical and comfortable that I owned. I’d bought them, what, three years ago for a date? That hadn’t turned out well.
Maybe I could do a picture. If the selfie cut off my head, then no one would know it was me. I definitely didn’t want to have an identifiable picture of me in sexy clothing on Alek’s phone. There were too many ways that could go wrong. I hadn’t sent a sexy photo to anyone since…well, ever.
It wasn’t fair that what had happened in the past had caused so much fallout, not just for my family, but for Alek too. Why were we, the victims of the crime, the ones paying the price? He deserved better. And so did I.
I was still staring at my sexy underwear instead of shutting the drawer. I wanted to surprise Alek. Keep him on his toes. I wanted to be fun. But what if someone identified me from the photo? Even without my face, it was possible. And that would be worse—permanently available online.
That was my excuse anyway when I stripped down, removing my comfortable undergarments and putting on the red lace. I dressed again and left, telling Justin I was meeting friends. I expected him to question me about it, afraid that somehow the red lace would blaze out through the two layers of clothing I had over it.
I couldn’t even pretend I was just going to “surprise” Alek and not stay for sex. This really had to be the last time. But I didn’t want the guy who’d given me the hottest sex of my life to only remember the boring underwear. I wanted him to remember me, like I knew I would remember him, in the best possible way.
I pulled on my coat and boots, as if I was really going outside on a February night, and then rode the elevator down to the lobby before going back up. In case Justin stepped out of the condo for something and saw the numbers stop on Alek’s floor. Paranoid much? Why was I doing something that obviously was so wrong?
Then I got out a floor below Alek’s and climbed up the stairs, arriving hot and sweaty at his place. I hadn’t thought this through very well.
He opened the door wearing sweatpants and nothing else. Bare chest and bare feet. Intimate, almost more than our hookups. A glance down gave me a good idea he was going commando in those sweats. I shivered.
“This can’t keep happening,” I explained.
