A Little Jaded (The Little Things #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

EVERETT

A drenaline lingers in my veins as I slide my jeans on after my shower. The locker room buzzes with energy after our three-to-one win against the Grizzlies. It was a rough game, but since the Hawks came out on top, it was more than worth it. I roll my shoulders as the ache from a particularly brutal hit spreads up my neck and down my spine. Yeah. I’m gonna feel it even more tomorrow.

I’ve been playing hockey for as long as I can remember. My dad might not have played professionally like my uncle and my friends’ families, but I’m still convinced it runs deep in my blood. Making me who I am while holding my future if I can maintain the willpower and determination to stay in top form.

“Good game, man,” one of my teammates offers.

As I rub my white towel against my damp hair, I lift my chin and reply, “Thanks,” when the heavy metal door bangs against the locker room's cinder block walls.

It’s followed by someone yelling, “Ev!”

“What?” Cameron, another teammate, answers for me.

“Where’s Everett?” the person demands .

It’s Reeves.

My roommate. Teammate. And more recently, friend . Still holding onto my white towel, I button my jeans the rest of the way as Reeves looks around the corner and comes into view.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Come out here.”

“Why?”

“Come on,” he pushes.

Forgetting about my shirt still hanging in my locker, I stride closer. “What is it?”

“Remember our deal?” he asks. “There’s a girl outside. She needs your help.”

Aaaand, there goes the high I was riding from our win.

Yeah, I know exactly what my buddy’s talking about, and it doesn’t give me any warm fuzzies. Reeves and I have always been at odds with each other, and that’s putting shit lightly. But after sticking my nose in his relationship with our best friend’s little sister, I decided I owed him one, and he cashed in on it big time. How? By making me agree to take over his side gig for the next six months. Normally, I wouldn’t complain about taking on a little something else, but when it involves fake dating girls under the guise of protecting them from their shitty boyfriends? Well, I’ve been less than enthusiastic about the whole thing. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a heartless bastard. But why can’t they just…leave? Or, I dunno, maybe not date assholes in the first place?

Damn, maybe I am heartless.

It’s not that I don’t care—I do. But when I’m already busy keeping track of my baby sister and her friends on campus or calling my dad to make sure my mom’s okay, it’s…exhausting. Having one more person rely on me feels like it might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. But what the hell do I know ?

Reeling in my annoyance, I throttle the towel in my hand. “Fuck, man. I don’t have time?—”

“And I don’t give a shit.” Reeves grabs my arm and shoves me out the door to the arena’s main hallway. Then, he scans the premises with an urgency I’m not used to. Reeves doesn’t give a shit about anything or any one except his girlfriend, Dylan. Or at least, it’s the persona he leads everyone to believe. Over the last few months, I’ve caught glimpses of the real guy and learned his heart’s bigger than any of us ever gave him credit for. But right now, something has him on edge, and I don’t like it.

When his attention lands on the back of a small-framed girl in a black jacket, he repeats, “Come on,” to me while jogging toward her at the end of the hall and calling out, “Hey, wait up!”

Her body freezes, and she slowly turns to face him. “Look, I’m sorry I bothered you?—”

“You didn’t bother me,” he argues. Glancing over his shoulder, he gives me a look telling me to hurry the hell up.

I grumble under my breath but pick up the pace, wishing I’d thought to slip on my sneakers before rushing out. Who knows when the last time these floors were actually cleaned.

Gross.

When I reach them, my muscles lock as I take in the strange girl. Long, dark brown hair. Highlights. She’s pretty. And small. Hell, she barely reaches my shoulder. Sunglasses cover her eyes, and I want to push them away so I can see what color they are. I don’t really care, but having them covered when we’re indoors causes warning bells to ring in my head. It feels like she’s hiding something, and if Reeves’ response is anything to go by, I’d say she is.

“This is Everett,” Reeves adds, introducing me to her. “And you are…?”

He doesn’t know her .

Interesting.

A beat of silence follows until she finally answers. “I’m Raine.”

“Everett, Raine. Raine, Everett,” Reeves repeats.

Raine. If she wasn’t such a dark cloud on my day, I’d say it’s pretty. Guess it’s fitting, considering the circumstances.

“Hello, Raine,” I mutter. My greeting is tight and forced and makes me sound like a dick, but I can’t help myself.

What the fuck does Reeves expect me to do? Shake her hand and ask where her boyfriend is so I can beat the shit out of him? This is ridiculous. I don’t fake date girls. I don’t fake anything. This has always been Reeves’ department, and he expects me to jump right in with both feet?

No, thank you.

Remembering the manners my mother spent years teaching me, I reach my hand out for Raine to shake, but she only stares at it. Like it’s a snake. One ready to strike at any second. It makes me feel like more of a dick.

“Raine,” Reeves interrupts, “Everett can help you with your…issue.”

“Issue.” A quiet scoff echoes past her lips, surprising me. “So that’s what we’re calling him.”

Him.

The asshole.

Great.

“Look, I gotta go.” Reeves takes a step backward, adding, “But, uh, you two chat. Figure shit out. And, Ev? If you need anything, let me know.” He turns on his heel and jogs toward the opposite end of the hall where his girlfriend waits, though I have no idea how long Dylan’s been standing there. She gives him a quick hug, and they disappear from view.

Leaving me alone with a girl I should have nothing to do with.

Fucking promises .

What the hell are we supposed to do now?

Scratching the scruff along my jaw, I tilt my head. “So, uh, I don’t exactly know how this works.”

Her gaze darts from left to right as she curls in on herself. “Neither do I.”

“Do you…wanna talk about it, or…?”

The girl scoffs again. “You know what?” She starts to turn away. “You’re off the hook. I changed my mind.”

“Wait.” I reach for her arm, but she flinches away from me. And fuck, it hurts. The way her body tenses up. The way she assumes I’ll harm her. I don’t even know her. Lifting my hands in surrender, I rush out, “I won’t touch you, all right? Just…wait for two seconds.”

She scowls but stays in place, studying me. “Why?”

It’s a good question. I shift on my bare feet, squeezing the back of my neck as I fight the urge to turn around and let us go our separate ways, even if it would confirm my asshole status.

“I don’t know?” I answer honestly. “Because”—I wave my hand toward her—“I promised my friend I’d step in if someone wanted to hire him since he’s now in a relationship, and you obviously need… help .”

Another scoff escapes her as her eyes drop to gaze at the floor, and she shifts from one foot to the other. “Obviously.”

“What, it’s not obvious?” I push. “You’re wearing sunglasses inside.”

As if only now remembering she’s wearing them, her dainty fingers skate against the dark frames, but she doesn’t take them off. “Maybe I don’t want the world to see what a fist can do when provoked.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not fooling anyone, so maybe you should give the disguise a break.”

She nods, though I don’t know if it’s for me or if she’s trying to convince herself it’s a good idea. To give the disguise a break. To not cover up the damage some asshole left on her. Regardless, her hands tremble as she slips the glasses off and folds them. Lifting her chin, her forest-green eyes hit mine and almost knock me on my ass as soon as our gazes lock. But the fire in them does me in. The anger. Determination. It’s almost enough to distract me from the purple and black bruising along her cheekbone and the blood-red veins tainting the white surrounding her left iris.

“Fuck,” I breathe out.

As if my words are a lash, she forces a smile and unfolds her glasses again, avoiding my gaze. “And this is why I keep the glasses on.”

I reach for her, hesitating at the last second to keep from touching her and scaring her all over again while feeling like I’m moving in circles. Like we’re moving in circles. I don’t know this girl, but whoever she is, she’s like a scared little mouse, and if I don’t tread lightly, I have a feeling she’ll bolt.

She stares at my half-outstretched hand the same way she did when I offered it to shake during our introduction. Then, slowly, her gaze trails along my bare torso—fuck, I forgot to put a shirt on when Reeves dragged me out here—until her eyes reach mine. “I don’t want your pity.”

“What do you want?”

“From you?” She slides her glasses back on. “Nothing.”

“Then why come in the first place?” I demand. I shouldn’t be offended, but dammit, I kind of am. When she stays quiet, I push. “What? I’m not good enough to help you, but Reeves is?”

“This wouldn’t have been Reeves’ first rodeo. Not if the rumors are true.”

I move closer to her. “And you think it’s mine?”

“By the look on your face? I’m gonna go with yes, this would be your first time helping someone in my situation. I’m not stupid enough to risk pissing off my boyfriend even more than I already have by being here.”

“Yet you’re stupid enough to date him in the first place, am I right?” Regret clogs my throat as soon as the words roll off my tongue, but it’s too late.

Her sharp inhale lingers in the otherwise silent corridor as she glares at me. And I’m surprised by the girl’s tenacity.

“Fuck. You.”

The words slam into my chest, leaving a heavy dose of shame in their wake. I shouldn’t have said it. What the hell is my problem? Moving in front of her, I block her escape and rush out, “Look, I’m sorry?—”

Heavy footsteps echo off the walls, breaking the building tension and distracting us both. Raine glances over her shoulder, searching for the culprit. The way her body tenses, the way she looks like a ghost is chasing her, gets to me and pisses me the fuck off.

“I have to go,” she whispers.

“Wait!”

“I can’t .” She scurries down the hall like the little mouse I pegged her for, disappears around the corner, and cuts off the heavy footsteps heading my direction.

I should be grateful. For the get-out-of-jail-free card. For the chance to wash my hands of this entire thing and go back to the locker room to celebrate today’s win with the rest of the team. Instead, I stand here. In the middle of the empty hallway. Waiting. For what, I’m not sure. But I can’t walk away. Can’t get my feet to move.

“Where the fuck have you been?” a low voice growls.

“I was looking for you,” Raine answers. There’s a tremor in her voice, and, dammit, it urges me forward.

I have a feeling I’ll regret this.