For Pucking Keeps: A Hockey Romance (The Seattle Vipers Series Book 1)

11. Jaz

ELEVEN

Igaze out at the sun rising over my sleeping neighborhood. A yawn passes my lips, the need to stretch my stiff muscles after the hours spent sitting is the only reason I slam my laptop closed. Standing slowly, I groan as my knees protest from my immobility and stretch my back. I raise my arms above my head, imagining I can touch the sky, tilting backwards, my vertebrae realigning with a few relieving cracks. Inhaling once, twice, and on the third count, I exhale, releasing the tension of not being able to write again.

After my texts with Tor last night, I was both exhilarated with anticipation of what our day together would bring and reluctant to step out of my front door. The Vipers’ win had Lia and I dancing around my living room in celebration. Honestly, I think it was the combination of way too many chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and cider. . . the sugar high struggle is real. But it was the post-game interviews with Lia’s brother Ridley, Tor, and their goalie, Sebastian, that stopped me dead in my tracks. The press hammered Tor with questions about me, not the game and how well all three of them played. No, me. My heart sank because I barely know the man and I am causing all this trouble for him. They exposed so many aspects of my personal life that’s not public knowledge. Hello, I write under a pen name for a reason. I felt violated and embarrassed as they asked Tor about Shaun, like he was privy to the information. I haven’t even told the man anything vital about my life yet, but does it stop the vultures from pecking at the remains of my past love life? Hell no.

You know, I can take a few hits to my pride and ego, I’m a big girl, I keep my panties well and truly pulled up. I’ve dealt with loads of negativity, I can stomach the hard stuff, or at least I thought I could. But as the press threw my failures up in the air like birthday confetti, I couldn’t hide the look of utter despair on my face. When Lia finally took pity on me by turning off the television, I was grateful. Not all press is good press, and I knew this was only going to blow up all over social media again. The world was watching, my mother, my sisters, everyone back home, well, those who know that Jazminne Starr is none other than Alexis Rhodes anyway. So, of course, I panicked when Tor’s messages came through. I wanted to tuck and run. Tell him that this had already turned into something out of control before it even began. I wanted to save myself from seeing the regret on his handsome face for even offering to help me in the first place. But he surprised me when he asked me to go out with him. He still wants to see me, I mean, help me. He did say he was all mine. God. All mine. I don’t know what all mine entails but damn, I want to find out.

Sighing, I drop my arms to my sides as my phone rings on my desk. Grabbing it, I walk out of my office, not wanting to dwell on the fact I didn’t sleep last night. Instead, I chose to stare at my computer screen, hoping my nights of watching Vipers speeding up and down the ice would spark something, anything. Nope, it did not.

“Hello,” I answer with another jaw cracking yawn. My bare feet slap against the wooden floors of my hallway and I hiss at the cold seeping into my soles. I ponder underfloor heating as I hurry into my bedroom, past my neatly made four poster bed. I stop and give it a look of longing for a second before I make my way into my bathroom. One look at myself and I want to make the sign of the cross in front of my own reflection. Fresh faced and bright eyed I’m not.

“Good morning, daughter of mine.” Hearing my mother’s voice hits me with so many emotions, my head drops as I brace myself against the bathroom sink, tears stinging my eyes. How long has it been? I’m a terrible child for not reaching out. The sound of disappointment in her voice has me swallowing past the lump in my throat.

“Hey, Ma,” I croak out as I prop my phone against the mirror and press the speaker button. I pick up my toothbrush, opting to keep myself busy in an attempt to hold myself together throughout this phone call.

I hear her hum her disapproval, probably taking a sip of her second cup of green tea before she speaks. I can picture her sitting at her kitchen table, legs crossed, in her housecoat. “Alexis Jayme Rhodes, I pride myself on raising three very different independent women, strong, resilient, and last but not least, respectful.” I close my eyes as I brush furiously, my poor teeth are probably wondering what they ever did to me.

“Ma—

“No, no, child. You’ve had ample amount of time to call and talk to me, send a carrier pigeon, or a message in a bottle, girl. You chose radio silence, so, you will now listen to me,” she admonishes, her voice rising with each word. If I wasn’t being read the riot act, this would be hilarious.

“Now, what I am trying to say is, Alexis, you should have told us what happened between you and that son of a bitch Shaun, and Mace. Mace Watson! I can’t even talk to his mother at bible study. I can see shame on the woman’s face. What kind of friend does that?” she asks. Before I can open my mouth to say exactly what kind of friend he is, she continues, “You left poor Julia and your sisters scrambling to sort out the wedding madness all on their own. You up and left your entire home, Alexis. The whole house. And moved across the country. No one knew where you were. Julia kept it hush hush. I knew she knew and threatened her within an inch of her life, but she wouldn’t tell us anything. That girl loves you though, so I forgave her in the end.”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” I say quickly in between rinsing out my mouth and gargling mouthwash. She hums again, accepting my apology, but I know she is far from finished. I’ll listen for as long as she talks because she needs to vent, and I deserve it.

“Now, after days, weeks, months of hearing nothing I find out through the Tiktok you’re in Seattle on some hockey player’s arm. Alexis, I don’t know what’s going on. You’ve always been the daughter I’ve never had to worry about, but, baby, I am worried. I saw the news this morning and the sports reporter talking about my daughter in relationship to some hockey player named Torrance Bailey. Everybody is talking about you. Why?”

I wait for her to say more, but when nothing comes, I blow out a breath. “I needed to get out of there, Mama,” I finally say. “I will spare you the details of what I came home to that night, but I jumped in my car and started driving. I didn’t think straight, but I needed to put as much distance between me and them as I could. Then found myself in Seattle,” I say as I continue to go through my morning routine. “I mean, it was more complicated than that, of course, but I needed a clean slate. I can’t come back to Texas. Not now. If Shaun wants the house, he can buy me out, but right now, I need to be here.”

“O-kay,” she replies slowly, without rebuttal, I expected more of a lecture. I’m about to ask her if she’s going to say more but stop when she speaks again. “You’ve been through enough these past few months, I get it. You’re a grown woman. I can’t tell you what to do. I want you to be happy, and if Seattle is where you need to be to achieve it, then I am content. Next time, call your mama, Alexis. Shay and Dawn need to hear from you as well. Your sisters won’t be as nice as I’ve been.”

I huff because I know they are going to give me hell. I smile in anticipation. I’ll welcome it.

“Thank you, Ma. I’m truly sorry. I know I still have a lot to deal with back home, and I promise I will. As far as my recent media exposure, it’s all being blown out of proportion. Someone took a picture of me and said hockey player, and things went a bit crazy from there. He offered me his help because of the next book I am writing. That’s it, nothing more. He’s famous, with loads of fans invested in his life. It will all blow over soon.” I shrug, wanting nothing more for my own words to be truth.

“Well, good. I can ignore all the gossip. I love you, Alexis. I know how you get when you’re writing, so I don’t expect a call every day, but reach out, please.” I hear sadness in her voice and feel terrible all over again. Hurting my mother and sisters was the last thing I wanted to do when I left.

“I’m sorry?—”

“Alexis Rhodes, if you tell me you’re sorry again, I will fly to Seattle and whoop your ass,” she threatens using her stern mom voice. Nothing like a good threat from your mother to set your life right. “Now, tell me all about this new book you’re writing.”

I don’t apologize again, instead, I tell her all about my book idea as I continue to get ready for my day out with Tor. What I don’t say is I haven’t written a word. I don’t tell her that I am struggling emotionally, that I feel inadequate. I don’t tell her I’m not enough, and it was Shaun who made me feel this way. I don’t tell her I ran because I was afraid of everyone around me seeing it too. I don’t tell her of the mental walls blocking my creativity because of everything that’s happened this year. No. I don’t want her to worry because I am the daughter she never has to worry about. The one who’s always been strong and had her shit together. I keep it all to myself to unpack later. Some of these realizations I hadn’t figured out until now.

We fall into an easy conversation, as if no time has passed between the last time we spoke. By the time I end the call I’m in good spirits and feel lighter. I forget about the press, paparazzi, and petty gossip. For the first time in months I have something to look forward to. Sometimes all it takes to reboot your mood is the comfort of your mother’s voice and a good talk.

I pull up in front of Jaz’s home in my SUV bright and early. I didn’t sleep much as I went through the plans I have in store for her today. Not wanting to waste a minute of my free day, I jump out of the car and stare up at the beautiful craftsman style bungalow in front of me. Dark grey siding with black trim, the exterior probably looks exactly like it did when it was built over a hundred years ago. The house is tucked within a slope with natural stone steps leading up to the front porch. The front door is made of stained-glass panels, with images depicting flowers, trees, and woodland creatures, framed in a polished dark oak wood. Two large windows sit on either side of the door, the curtains are drawn but I can imagine being able to see directly through the interior if they were open.

The magical part about this place, in my opinion, is the second floor. Windows line the front and sides, I assume it’s an almost three-hundred-and-sixty-degree perspective if it extends to the back. I hope I get to find out. I’m sure the view from up there is the reason why Jaz bought the place. I’ll have to ask her. I take a good look at the homes surrounding hers, including Lia’s, and remember a conversation about the homes all being restored to their original specifications a few years ago.

The neighborhood is quaint and quiet, so far from the hustle and bustle of the downtown area where my penthouse is. Just standing here feels like an escape from it all. There’s no one shouting my name or trying to take pictures, and no one hiding in wait to sabotage my day with random drama. Now I know why Ridley found this place for his sister years ago. He placed her here to protect her, and I’m relieved Jaz will be safe here as well.

A door slams from next door as I hurry up the front steps of Jaz’s yard, pausing as Lia comes into view. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a mess of curls. From where I’m standing she looks as if she’s still in her pajamas, a large tote hangs from her shoulders, with a purple knitted cardigan spilling over the sides. She rushes to her car, but when she sees me she stops short, and jogs across the yard towards me.

“Did you talk to Ridley last night?” she asks as she pushes her black-rimmed glasses up on her nose. Considering the nature of the question, I try not to smile. Lia is like a little sister to me, a little momma bear when it comes to her big brother. Especially the past two years after Rid’s breakup, so I’m not surprised that whatever’s the matter she’s scurried out of her home in her sleepwear. I bet it hasn’t registered or she just doesn’t give a damn. Probably the latter. But she is rocking the oversized black t-shirt with the words ‘Dream Smutty Dreams’ on the front, with red and black checkered pants regardless. Her brows are pinched in concern as she taps her foot waiting for me to reply. Does she realize she’s wearing house shoes?

“I talked to him last night on the bus back to the arena. I think he went out with Devan and the rest of the team though. Why?” I ask, pulling my phone from my back pocket to check and see if I missed any messages from the guys. If there had been trouble they would have called me, or worse, it would be all over social media by now. I already had to deal with the fall out of my post-game interview from last night and it’s not even ten in the morning yet.

“Apparently he got really drunk last night. Devan called me and said he was taking him back to his place. Somehow they managed to keep the bunnies away from him. So that’s a relief, I guess, but Tor, Devan said Rid drunk dialed Brea last night. According to Devan, my brother cried, begged her to take him back and demanded to see her. He asked for her forgiveness for all the shit she’s had to witness him doing these past two years.” Her sigh is weary, and her shoulders slump forward. I already know where this is going. “Devan said she hung up. He’s a mess all over again, Tor,” she says, her lips pinching in a tight sympathetic grimace, her bright blue eyes shiny with unshed tears.

I fold my hands over my chest and hang my head. This is my fault. He was trying to give me advice. By doing so he reopened his own wounds. “Fuck.” Is all I can say. I turn and look back at Jaz’s door and then back at Lia. I have plans, but if Ridley needs me.

“I’ll—”

“No.” She points behind me, then steps closer and pokes me in the chest. “You are here for Jaz, be there for her. I saw you and thought you knew what was happening. Now you know. I am going to Devan’s to get my brother. I will take him home and look after him today. It’s the least I can do. I know Ridley’s not been himself. I haven’t been happy with his behavior since this all blew up. But he’s taken care of me since our parents died, so now it’s my turn to take care of him. I know it’s not the same, but I will be there for him no matter how much he fucks up. Because we have no one but each other. I got him. You go make sure my friend has a great day.” She smiles and gives me a little shove toward Jaz’s door.

“You’re a good sister, Lia. Ridley is blessed to have you. He was trying to help me get out last night. I feel like his emotional relapse is my fault. But maybe it’s time for him to actually deal with the way he and Brea left things. Who knows, there may be a way for them to work it out.”

“Maybe,” Lia acquiesces. “It’s been two years, Tor. Brea has moved on. The last I heard she was dating another musician. It couldn’t have been easy for her to see Ridley’s continuous spiral downhill since their breakup.”

I nod my head noncommittally, not sure what to say, because he didn’t take it well when he saw her on the arms of other men either these past few years. They have both hurt each other. When you hear her music, for those of us who know her, you know exactly who she is referring to in those songs.

I watch Lia back away from me, then turn with a wave as she heads to her car.

“Lia,” I call after her as she reaches her car.

“Yeah?” she replies, opening her car door and tossing her bag in the passenger seat.

“You have me, and I am sure you have Devan too.” I wink and she rolls her eyes at my mention of Devan. “You are not alone, and neither is Ridley. You are both family,” I say, hoping she hears me. She gives me a short nod of understanding and climbs into her car. I watch her pull away, wondering if this is the end of Ridley’s fuckboy era. I can only hope. Ridley and Brea love each other, for fuck’s sake. If they can’t find their way back to each other then what hope is there for second chances? I guess only time will tell.

“Tor.” I hear my name and turn to see Jaz at her front door. My feet move on their own until I’m standing right in front of her. I let my eyes roam her body, her hair is half up and half down, loose natural curls kiss her shoulders. It’s cold this morning. She’s in a white cable knit sweater with a brown and black plaid flannel shirt over it. Dark denim hugs her curves, leaving nothing to my imagination. She is breathtaking, fresh faced without an ounce of makeup, and my dick is instantly awake. God, it’s a turn on to know that she doesn’t feel the need to plaster herself in makeup. I can tell she’s confident in her own skin, and I like what I see. I like her.

“Tor. Is everything okay?” she asks, smirking back at me, knowing exactly what I’ve been doing for the past few seconds it had taken me to peruse her body.

I glance up at her and smirk back and give her complete honesty. “You’re gorgeous, Miss Starr.” I smile at her reaction. Jaz’s brows raise in surprise at my response, giving me an impressed look. Did I catch her off guard? By her reaction, yes, I did.

“Well, that was unexpected and refreshing,” she says as she reaches behind her and closes the door. She wiggles the doorknob to check to see if she’s locked it then turns and walks past me down the stairs. I’m so stunned. I watch her move. I can’t take my eyes off her; my eyes follow her easily, like they’re tethered to her.

“What’s unexpected and refreshing?” I ask, already knowing what she’s referring to. Am I fishing for a compliment? Why yes, yes, I am. I need her to see me. All of me. Not the world-famous hockey player, just Torrance. The man my momma raised me to be.

“Honesty is hot, Mr. Bailey. You keep it up, I may have to keep you around.”

She looks over her shoulder and smiles. My breath catches, my heart skips a beat, and I may have swooned a bit. I, Torrance Bailey, am a swooner. Who knew? For a man whose been emotionally closed off most of my life, I am surprising myself. I catch up to her in two steps. Pulling my keys out of my pocket, I press the key fob and start up the car. The door locks disengage with an audible click, and I reach her door before she does.

“I’m going to be all kinds of cliché today, Miss Starr.” I open her door and swing my arm inward. “Your chariot awaits.” I smile, because I can’t help myself, and bow at the waist. It’s cheesy, ridiculous even, but I find I don’t care. I don’t want to hold back, not even for a moment. I want this experience, our first, well, I wouldn’t consider this a date, but I want our first outing to be a memorable one. No one is around to see my crazy but her.

Jaz stands at the bottom step, tilting her head to the side, studying me. In this moment I wish I could read minds, I really want to know what she’s thinking. When she straightens, she seems satisfied with whatever she sees because she stops before climbing into the SUV, her eyes catching mine. “A gentleman too, my-my-my, Mr. Bailey, more than just a hockey player with a handsome face. I really didn’t see you coming.”

She slides into her seat without another word, leaving me whirling and wishing she would say more. I lean in quickly, folding my body over hers, I pull the seat belt over her chest. Once secure, I turn my head and hold my breath as I stare into her ever-changing pools, the browns, golds, and greens of her irises fighting for dominance, leaving me frozen in this spot, captivated. Our lips, a breath apart, ache to touch. She exhales, breathing for us both. It’s only then I remember to breathe. This close, her scent engulfs me, vanilla and cocoa butter, like freshly baked cookies. If Jaz is affected by our proximity, she doesn’t show it, staying completely still. Does she see something primal in my depths? Does she sense my barely there control? One move and I’ll pounce. I want to taste her, pull her from the car, cradle her in my arms until I have her screaming out my name from the first surface I can find. Okay, no. I pull away so fast my head bumps the top of the car, making me suck in a sharp intake of breath.

As much as I want to kiss her, now is not the time, and besides, we have all day. A lot can happen in one day. I assure Jaz I’m okay, rubbing the now sore spot on the top of my head. It takes all my willpower to close the door and walk around the car to finally climb in beside her.

Should I have kissed her? The opportunity presented itself. Would it have been too forward? Easy flirting is one thing, but what if she’s not in the same headspace. No, there is definitely something there. I won’t second guess my decision now, so I start the car and pull away from the house.

We drive in silence for a while, and I steal a few glimpses of her profile while she takes in the world around us.

“So,” she finally says as I hit the highway and head away from her neighborhood and outside the city. “What am I learning today?”

I glance over quickly as she waits expectantly for me to answer. “It’s a surprise.”

“I think I’ve had enough surprises for one morning, Tor,” she replies. I can hear the humor in her voice. “As long as this surprise has coffee on the menu, then I am up for just about anything.”

I laugh. “Coffee, it is, Miss Starr. I will make sure I remind you of your words later.”

“I can’t take back what I just said, can I?” She groans. I can only assume she has realized what she just said.

“Nope. Not at all. Don’t worry, I use my powers for good, not evil.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she grumbles, folding her arms over her chest in a playful pout.

I’m absolutely giddy as she pokes her bottom lip out and laughs at her own antics.

Is it too soon to fall for this woman? Because it will be so easy.