Page 122 of Stick It
The corners of his lips tilt up. “Yeah? You wanna go out with us again?”
The way he says that, all deep and suggestive, has my core clenching and dirty thoughts racing through my mind. He makes it sound like I’m not simply on a date with Griffin, but with all of them.
My thoughts drift back to Riley and her insinuation that she’s with multiple men. Is a relationship like that truly possible? Is it something I even want? I’ve found a strange sort of home with these guys—even Finn, who has gone out of his way to ensure I’m cared for even while ignoring me. However, I made a rash decision about a boy after my father’s death, and it’s one I’ll regret for the rest of my life. I don’t want to rush into a similar situation. But then, while I am still grieving—is there ever a time when I won’t be?—it’s not as raw and potent as it was back then. It doesn’t affect my ability to make decisions the same way.
I look up into Jax’s handsome face. His expression is always carefully masked, but his eyes give him away. They brim with emotion that I don’t think he truly allows himself to feel.
“You know, I think I do.”
I’m rewarded with a wide grin that shows off the dimple in his chin. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen Jax express his emotions so openly—and every time, what he’s feeling has been directed at me. He never allows others to see this side of him. Never truly lets anyone in. Yet, for some reason, he’s been letting me in.
He pulls open the door when we reach the bar, gesturing for me to go ahead. Murphy’s is your average, run-of-the-mill corner bar. If you didn’t know about it, you’d walk right past it without a second thought. As I step inside, I’m greeted with dark wooden walls and dimly lit sconces which cast a soft amber glow and makes everything feel a little hazy. A handful of patrons sit at the bar, their low murmurs mixing with the occasional clink of glasses and the muted hum of a game playing on the old TV mounted in the corner. The air smells of fried food and spilled beer.
We claim an open booth near the back, Griffin sliding in beside me without hesitation. Jax takes the seat directly across from me, his sharp gaze flickering between Griffin’s arm, draped casually over the back of the booth, and me before stretching his legs out under the table so they tangle with mine. I fight back a smile, something warming inside me at his jealousy and the fact that he isn’t put off by Griffin’s open posturing. It makes me wonder again if something more could be possible between me and them.
Ethan joins him, while Finn settles at the end, keeping as much distance as possible between us. I roll my eyes at that.
A server swings by, dropping off sticky menus and taking our drink orders. We order a round of beers before each taking a moment to decide what we want to eat.
“Everyone up for sharing the platter of hot wings and fries?” Jax asks, looking around the table. Everyone murmurs theiragreement, and we place the order when the waitress returns with our drinks.
Sitting back in my seat, I ask, “So, what are each of you studying?” I’ve lived and played alongside these guys for nearly two months, but I don’t even know that basic thing about them. Sure, I’ve overheard them talk about a particularly difficult class or some assignment they are working on, but I don’t know their majors, their plans for after college, or five years from now.
Unsurprisingly, they each rattle off something sports related—broadcasting, sports management, physiotherapy.
I snort at their answers. “I’m assuming the ultimate plan is to go pro then?”
“Obviously,” Finn retorts, like it’s not even a question. Like making it to the NHL is a foregone conclusion. Oh, how I wish it were that certain for me.
“What about backup plans?” I challenge.
Jax waves a hand. “We’ll figure it out if we need to. We know what we want, and we have our degrees for if things don’t work out as planned, but why put too much focus on something that isn’t what we ultimately want?”
“Going pro is the goal,” Ethan tacks on. “That’s where our focus needs to be.”
Griffin and Finn nod, none of them looking particularly worried.
Food arrives, baskets of hot wings and curly fries filling the table. We dig in, conversation shifting again until Ethan turns his gaze on me. I can see the questions brewing there. Ones I bet he’s been dying to ask since I first showed up at BSU. “What about you? What’s your plan after college?”
I swallow a bite of fries and shrug. “Same as you. Go pro.”
The words come out steady, but they don’t carry the same easy certainty as theirs did. Because for them, it’s expected. For me? It’s a gamble. A near impossibility. The NHL isn’t exactlywelcoming to women, and there’s no real alternative that offers the same level of competition, the same dream.
“For real?” Finn questions, leaning forward to look down the table at me. Intrigue and something else, something more…heady, gleams in his eyes. “You’re aiming for the NHL?” He looks around the table. “Can that even be done?”
“Women have played in the NHL before,” I snark back with a glare.
“Yeah, but not routinely. They’re pulled out for a PR stunt in exhibition games.” He arches a brow. “You don’t strike me as the type to accept that. You’re not a show pony.”
Is that a compliment or an insult? I can’t tell.
“No,” I agree. “I want a permanent position. I don’t care if it’s on the third line, so long as I get some real, actual time on the ice.”
The table falls quiet for a beat, the weight of the difference between us settling in. Ethan studies me intensely, I can practically read the thoughts on his face—the realization that I’m fighting harder than anyone else on this team because, unlike for many of them, a position on a pro team is not a guarantee. It’s the slimmest of hopes, a sliver of a chance. But I’m fighting for it anyway.
“Why?” Finn asks, sounding curious rather than insulting. “The chances are so slim. Why put all this effort into it when you could dominate on a women’s team?”
I don’t know how to explain it to him—to any of them. They’ve always known what they wanted, and to them, while obviously they have had to work their asses off to achieve it, ithasbeen firmly within the realm of possibility for them. For me, I’m fighting to achieve the near impossible. But it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.
