Off Limits PUCK (Love on Ice #1)

22. Jake

Chapter twenty-two

Jake

I don’t know why I reacted so defensively when I saw Allie a few minutes ago. I was shocked to see her, and then even more shocked that she hadn’t immediately apologized for abandoning me. Now she’s telling me she was fired? That can’t be right. Coach was very clear to me about why she left.

I wait for her as she hesitates by Kenzie’s front door. I think she’ll turn around and talk to me. We have history—intimate history—and surely that counts for something.

“I don’t see the point,” she says with a sigh, her back still to me.

“I think we each have been told different things about you leaving the Eagles, Allie. That warrants a talk. Don’t you think?”

She sighs in a dramatic way that reminds me of my sister.

“Sooner than later, since apparently Kenzie is late, but will be here any minute. I’d rather have this convo in private.”

Allie turns her head and shoots a look at me. “Convo?” There’s a tease in her voice that sets my mind at ease.

“Chit chat? Tête-à-tête?” I force a laugh. “I could go on.”

Allie decides to stay. She turns all the way around and marches past me to the kitchen. “Well, we might as well clean up your mess in here so you don’t freak out your sister.” She is stern with me, but I suspect that underneath her tough attitude is a lot of confusion, similar to how I am feeling.

I poke around on the cookie sheet to see if I can find any salvageable cookies while she throws all the mixing bowls into the dishwasher.

“Here, take a bite,” I say after finding a half decent cookie.

She steps close to me—very close—and inspects the treat. Her nose wrinkles. “You think that is edible? No thanks.”

Our arms brush against each other as she leans in to look at it as if having doubts. I feel that familiar rush of attraction flood me. Suddenly, I am not mad anymore. I’m not wanting to receive some long, emotional apology to soothe my ego. I just want her.

“Allie, I…”

Her phone rings. She almost jumps away from me, then. She looks at the phone and then looks at me.

“Sorry, it’s Kenzie’s ring tone.” But she doesn’t move to the phone. “I better answer it. She’s probably on her way over. Why aren’t you spending the holidays with your family, anyway?” she asks.

“Why did you leave and go work for another sports team?” I reply, each word making us inch closer to each other.

“Why didn’t you text me the past few months?” Her voice is breathy, her eyes lustful as she looks at my lips.

“Why didn’t you come see me at the hospital? Why weren’t you there for me?” There it is, the wound she inflicted on me. I needed her in my weakest moment of vulnerability professionally, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Who says I didn’t come by?” She looks guarded now, her soft expression replaced by one of suspicion.

“Only Kenzie did, outside my team. I never saw you and no one remembered seeing any female come to the room. Only my sister. Trust me, I did ask.” I stare at her, remembering every feature on her face anew. Her skin is smooth and pale. Her lips are full. Her hair is pulled back, showing off her cute nose and expressive eyes.

“Ah, yes, you send all your little hook ups right to your house.” She’s scornful as she says those words.

“No. Maybe a year ago, sure. But I haven’t done any of that since you and I were together.” I remember she was going to look up information about me online. Maybe she did look me up and that is what caused her to leave the Eagles? So many questions—too many.

“I was there, in your hospital room. I did come by. I brought you your phone and the bag of clothes.” She has taken a step back from me. “I was in the room when you got all those texts and calls from girls. And you didn’t even text me. You took Maria’s call, Jake. I saw you do it.”

Suddenly, I remember. I was so out of it that night from the concussion, but I remember. “The door shut behind someone… I thought it was a nurse. But why?”

Thirty seconds ago, I thought she and I might kiss. The moment was right. Now it isn’t. She’s guarded and distant. I feel frustrated.

Her eyes blaze at me, burning with what looks like betrayal. “I came to you as soon as I could sneak away. That’s all I ever did with you back then—sneak, sneak, sneak. I was so tired of it, deep down. I knew it was a dumb thing for me to do, letting you keep me like some dirty secret. But still, I sneaked into your room to bring you stuff so you felt cared for. And what did that get me? Coach coming to me and telling me I am fired, basically. I had to leave. I was told to never contact you.”

She bristles.

“Allie, I had no idea. I was told a very different story.”

She shrugs, as if she doesn’t care. “It’s all good. I have a good-paying job working with women who respect me, who don’t tell the media how easy I am to replace and how average my skills are.”

I cringe. What a jerk I must have sounded like when I said that. “Allie, I am so sorry.”

“Save it,” she cuts me off. “I remember now why my first instinct tonight was to leave you here alone. And that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll make up an excuse for Kenzie.” She glares at me, all her disdain evident on her face. “As usual, there’s a mess when it comes to dealing with you and as usual…I’m left dealing with the aftereffect.”

With another loud, long scoff, she grabs her stuff and leaves, really leaves, the door closing firmly behind her.

I groan and rake my hand through my hair. I really messed up big time here. I drag myself to the door, feeling angry at myself, and pull it open.

She looks up at me as she’s opening her car door.

“Allie, let’s not be like this. Honestly.” I can feel the frustration seeping into my voice. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Where was this attitude four months ago when I just disappeared from your life, Jake? Where was this urgency then? You let me go and you thought what…that I was ghosting you? You didn’t think to reach out to me because you assumed I was just like you, like all of you hockey guys.”

I shake my head. “You have it all wrong, Allie.” My shoulder throbs as my whole body tenses up. I grit my teeth. How are we mis-communicating so badly like this?

“No, I don’t think that I do. I learned through you not trying to contact me that you don’t value me. And I’m not okay with a man using me, Jake. I was told to leave the Eagles or that Coach would not be able to protect me or keep my reputation intact. So I left. What punishment did you get from our tryst? Why didn’t you care enough to reach out to me?”

I feel like each word is a slap, and I don’t know what is true and what is not true right now. I shake my head again, feeling my shoulder throb.

“This is why I want to talk, Allie. There is so much miscommunication.” I shake my arm out, my shoulder hurting me.

She scoffs. “You want to talk about four months too late, buddy.” She starts to get into her car and then stops. “Put some heat on it, then ice. It looks like your shoulder has locked up.”

With that, she’s gone. She drives away and I stand there like a mute fool, not sure how to process my mental anguish at her running away and thinking so many bad things about me along with the physical pain that I feel.

“What a damn mess,” I say with anger in my voice. “And there’s one person who can verify her story.”

I turn and stomp my way into Kenzie’s place. I pull out my phone and wince, my shoulder on fire. I plop down on my sister’s couch, my arm resting on the armrest. I give it a minute or two to calm down. Once the throbbing pain has subsided, I take a deep breath and make a phone call.

I don’t care if we have a few days off for the holidays. I don’t care if the person I’m calling is with their family. I just don’t care. My life has been messed with by a higher power and I feel like Allie and I were puppets to a puppet master who had no business making arrangements in secret like this.

The phone rings a few times and then goes to voice mail. Undeterred, I call again. On my third phone call, the man answers.

“Jake, how can I help you?” Coach’s deep voice sounds out. “You do know I’m with my family. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

The happy sounds of laughter and music fill his background, a stark contrast to my silent backdrop. I feel betrayal claw its way through my mind. How dare he tell Allie and me different things that he knew would motivate us to stay apart? How dare he.

“Coach, I am in trouble.” My eyes narrow. I’m angry.

“Really? Should I call Dr. Jones?”

“No. It’s not trouble of my making.”

I can hear him walking and then a door closing. All is quiet on his end. “Go on. I’m in my home office. You can speak freely and so can I.”

“It’s trouble of your making, Coach. And it involves the way in which our PT, Allie, was let go from working with the Eagles.”

A long silence greets my ears. Then he says, “I see.”