Page 9 of Forever Wild
And then I turn on my heel and head out to leave him to brood in his castle. Alone.
4
WOAH, BUDDY
JACK
I’m on the exercise bike in my gym when the doorbell rings. Ignoring it, I keep going. I was in great shape before the accident and now I’m struggling to cycle for more than five minutes without feeling like my body is going to give out. I hate it so much it fuels me to push harder.
Sweat drips from my face as I lean over the bike, holding on with one hand, and pedal faster. I left my air pods in my bedroom and didn’t want to hobble across the house for them, but now the only sound is my ragged breathing, which reminds me that I have a long way to go before training camp in September.
A knock on the front door is barely audible over the sound of me sucking in air. My hackles go up immediately. I’ve come to really fucking hate that sound lately.
I don’t stop pedaling. The nurse already came by today. Another new one. She barely spoke as she quickly checked on me, removed thelast bandage, and asked me how I was doing.
I answered in a grunt and she fled like a scared rabbit soon after, when it was clear I wasn’t going to let her take me for a walk around the block either. What the fuck is their obsession with leisurely afternoon walks in the neighborhood?
The knocking turns to banging. For all of two seconds I reconsider answering it or at least going to see who it is, but then it stops. Good.
I’m focusing back on my workout, pumping my legs, and trying to ignore the weakness of my left leg. The doctor said to be patient, but he doesn’t have a career depending on his ability to skate like hell and knock people against the boards.
The season ended because of my fuck up. Not just my season, but the team’s too. They were depending on me, and I had to sit by and watch, completely helpless, while they struggled to shift players around to fill my absence.
A sound pulls me from my focus—something that sounds an awful lot like the front door closing.
What the hell?
I stop pedaling and listen closely. Quick footsteps click on the hardwood floors. There is definitely someone in my house. Few people would just let themselves in. Maybe my agent James came back early from vacation?
I’m staring toward the door, waiting for the intruder to announce themselves, when a woman with long, tan legs in cut-off shorts and a red and white striped tube top appears in the doorway.
“Oh, good. You’re alive,” Everly says in a tone that suggests maybe she’s not all that happy I haven’t reached an untimely demise.
“Was that really a question?” I arch one brow, feeling another trickle of sweat slide down into my eye. It burns, but it’s a welcomefeeling to distract from the pain in my knee.
“Seeing as how you aren’t answering the door or your phone, it was among the possibilities.”
“Couldn’t be that I’m just busy.”
Ignoring me, she holds up a white bag. “I brought lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.” I go back to biking while she lowers the food sack and glowers at me. “And why areyoubringing me food? I’m not helpless.”
“Wow, Everly, that was so nice. Thank you,” she says in a sugary-sweet tone as she mocks me. Her blonde hair is pulled up today in a ponytail that swings from side-to-side as she speaks. “I was in the neighborhood. I’m looking after Leo, Declan, and Ash’s houses while they’re gone. I thought you might like something to eat that wasn’t fried in vegetable oil.”
She disappears out of view. Now in addition to being interrupted, I feel like a jerk. I try to get back to my workout, but I can hear her moving around in my house. What is she doing?!
I like Everly more than I like the average person, but at this moment I can’t remember why.
I continue to stew as I watch the miles on my bike increase. Eventually, I must get into a frustration-fueled haze because when I stop, I can’t hear her anymore. Good. Maybe she left.
I ignore the twinge of guilt for running her off. She doesn’t want to be around me right now. Can’t she see that I need space to recover on my own? If she’s smart, she’ll stay the hell away from me and enjoy her last summer of carefree fun.
Everly just finished college and has an internship waiting for her at the end of the summer. Her brother Tyler can’t stop talking about it. He’s so proud of his younger sister. And for all the hell she causedhim when she was younger, I guess I understand why.
In the kitchen I eye the white bag, then peek inside. My stomach growls at the sight of a salad. I might have had one too many cheeseburgers in the past week if my body is now craving lettuce.
I’m about to pull out the container when movement catches my eye. Everly’s steps come up short when she spots me. She’s changed into a swimsuit—some tiny black thing that barely covers her. My mouth goes dry and heat courses through me.
