Page 8 of Playing for Keeps
“Oh, really?” I cock an eyebrow. “And what about your old friend here?”
“You’re included in that as well.” She shoves me in the chest playfully as we find seats at the end of the bar.
A quick glance over to the dance floor shows Jake and Beth are still entwined, unable to take their eyes off or hands each other. “I was going to surprise you this weekend and see if you were free. Tanner is talking about us taking dance lessons for the wedding, so I thought catching up would be a good idea. We lost touch over the years, so I didn’t have your number.”
“That’s so cool,” I reply. “About catching up, I mean. But dance lessons?”
Yes, Tanner’s wedding is coming up in early December in Vegas, where his fiancé’s family lives. I’m the best man, and Jade is the maid of honor. It’s the first I’m hearing of dance lessons. That could be a little hard given we live in different cities.
She pops a shoulder and giggles. “Proper dancing, not a grope fest.”
I facepalm myself, no longer able to help it. “Well, this is the first I know about it. And seeing you is definitely a surprise.”
She laughs quietly now, almost shyly, like the reality of her words are just dawning.Grope fest.
“Do you normally let strangers kiss you like that?” I cock my head. I don’t even wanna get into the rest.
She pulls her bottom lip under the perfect row of white teeth, battling a smile. “Do you?” she fires back when she releases it.
I laugh. That’s the girl I’ve always known could be a little feisty given the opportunity, she always was a little infectious, too.
Tou-fucking-che Jade Jones.
CHAPTER 2
Jay
Present day
I wake up with a loud yawn, stretching my arms out wide as I French kiss the morning. The cold air licks my bare arms, nothing can mistake the chill of the Washington morning brushing my naked flesh. With a shudder, I quickly tuck them back under the warmth of my comforter.
Fall is here and the cold has crept its way in from the back end of summer. I may have lived in Seattle for a while now, but I still miss the mild year-round Mediterranean climate of San Diego. That year I spent before I moved back to North Dakota has really stuck in my mind over the years.
My hand works its way into my shaggy blonde pile of hair, which, due to my tossing and turning for the better part of the night, is all over the place.
It takes me a second to register my throbbing head, and it’s not from drinking too much. While I’m not against drinking by any means, I gave the heavy shit up faster than I could blink after that day on the ledge when Billy Jones intervened and possiblysaved my life. The thought of becoming like my mom when she drank terrified me, as did the idea of jumping off a cliff to escape my problems.
The guys I’m close to in the Hawks, where I play center position, think I go on all-night drinking benders, but I’m really a one to two drink wonder. I fill my flask with iced tea half the time.
Despite that, this morning the mariachi band is playing Ranchera loud and clear in my aching head. I’m half-wondering if it’s to spite me because I stayed up so late with my teammates. I can almost feel the vibration bouncing off my head as I try to adjust to the morning, stretching out like a starfish in the middle of my king-sized bed in my over-sized apartment.
I glance at the clock on my bedside table, thankful I shut the alarm off because I ain’t going on my usual morning jog today. No freaking way. I have training later down at the stadium since the new season has just begun. That will have to suffice.
I’m the center for the Seattle Hawks now. I was drafted after a year in the USHL straight into the NHL and Seattle has been my home ever since. The guys all say I was drafted right out of high school, and while that’s not entirely accurate, it’s close enough.
It’s then I hear a noise in the kitchen and I stir, lifting my head, casting my eyes toward my bedroom door, which is slightly ajar.
Who the fuck is here?
I live alone. Entirely alone. This isn’t the place I call my regular home, but it’s still an extremely comfortable apartment that came with my last contract so I can be near the stadium.
My real home, the place I own, is a spacious log cabin outside the city in the rural town of Lakebay, Pierce County. Nestled on the banks of the Bay Lake, the house backs onto the woods with no neighbors in sight as it sits on a large acreage. I lovethe rustic and charming feel of it, but still having all the modern conveniences I need. It’s solely for me. However, I don’t get to visit as often as I’d like to. Even during our down time, though I did get out there for a couple of weeks before the new season started.
The guys have referred to my apartment in the past as my ‘fuck-boy pad’, which isn’t entirely untrue. This is the place, and the bed, where I usually have a woman in tow. It surprises me that I even woke up alone. Or maybe I didn’t…
I mean, the other side of my bed appears empty this morning, but surely I’d remember if I brought a girl home last night. I scan back to the previous evening’s activities, wondering if someone spiked my drink and why I feel so fucking tired.
And why is someone in my kitchen?
