Chapter 6
Alondra
I’m not sure it’s physically possible for me to walk any slower, but I can’t stall forever. The neon glowing sign of Twin City is up ahead, sealing my fate for the evening.
Macy wouldn’t take no for an answer after I tried to get out of going out tonight, especially after she said we were going to Twin City and her loser boyfriend would be joining us.
I changed into a pair of jeans, but I refused to take off my fuzzy sweater, picking comfort and warmth over the skimpy top Macy wanted me to wear.
It’s probably wishful thinking, but I’m hoping Jack and his buddies have decided to go somewhere else tonight, sparing me the agony of spending more time with him.
I grumble under my breath, kicking a loose pebble with the toe of my shoe.
I want to be at home instead of shivering while cold air seeps through my layers after the significant drop in temperature since the sun went down hours ago.
I tucked my hands into my sleeves at the beginning of our hike to the bars, but my fingertips are beginning to go numb.
Of course, we just had to go to the scene of the crime I committed only a week ago, even if it feels like it’s been way longer than seven days.
In my head, I’m throwing knives at the back of Chad’s head, trying not to gag when he opens the door for her and she melts, giving him one of her beaming smiles that feels like a direct ray of sunlight.
I’ve learned the more I tell Macy how much he sucks, the less likely she is to listen to me about it.
I mumble a quiet thanks to Chad when he holds it for me, and the heat welcomes me like a warm hug, thawing my fingers immediately upon entry.
I do not want to be here.
The bar is just as loud tonight, and the smell of alcohol and sweat is strong. I expect Macy to make a move toward the bar, but instead, she makes a beeline for the loudest table. It only takes me half a second to recognize Jack, and now I’m wondering what else Macy didn’t tell me about tonight.
Scanning the rest of the table, I’m relieved to see Ellie, and it makes me feel better she looks as confused to see us walking toward them as I am. At least she wasn’t in on whatever this setup is.
Jack stands up, hugging Macy, and my jaw drops. When the hell did they become friends?
Macy says something to him before turning around, hooking her arm with mine to pull me toward the bar. “Maybe we should get you a drink before we go sit down,” she says, and I would call that an understatement.
“Maybe we should just order a bottle of vodka, and you can pour it down a beer bong for me before we go sit down,” I retort, and her eyes widen.
“I don’t think hanging out with Jack and his friends for one night is going to kill you, but that absolutely would.”
“They’re hockey players, Mace,” I argue, and at least this time she has the decency to appear like she feels bad.
“I know, but I ran into Jack this morning before your class together when he was getting you coffee, and he invited us out tonight to prove to you he’s worth being friends with,” she says, and I sigh, twisting one of my curls. She’s a sucker.
“Fine, forget the bottle, but I’m not paying for my rum and coke,” I say, and she smiles.
“I’m proud of you, babe,” Macy says, and I try not to think about how Jack’s eyes lit up earlier when I smiled at him after he handed me the cup of coffee.
“If you’re proud of me, then make it a double please.”
Thankfully, the bartender makes mine first, and I take a long sip, trying to prepare myself, but I have a feeling this won’t be as terrible as I’m hoping it will be. Maybe that’s what I’m most afraid of—seeing my dad’s players as people instead of something he’s picked over me, time and time again.
It’s easier to hate them when I think of them as assholes and playboys, but Jack is doing everything possible to prove me wrong.
The table is lively and roaring with laughter as we approach, and Jack smiles, his goddamn dimple winking at me. “Hey, Al,” he greets, “happy you made it.”
I smile back faintly—it’s hard not to when he smiles like that. “Didn’t have much of a choice, but I think you knew that since you didn’t say anything in class,” I say, adding a smile so he knows my claws are retracted.
“I think what she means to say is thanks for the invite,” Macy adds, giving me a look as everyone shifts around to make room in the circular booth.
“That’s what I heard,” Jack says, winking at me, and Ellie rolls her eyes, patting the seat next to her.
“Ignore him,” she says, and I feel my face start to burn from the number of eyes staring at me.
“You’re the tutor?” the guy sitting next to Jack asks, peering at me.
“You’re a hockey player?” I counter, tilting my head back at him. He laughs, flashing me a pretty smile.
“Feel free to ignore Dylan too,” Ellie says, and I stir my drink with the straw before taking another sip.
“Hey, Coop,” I say, giving Ellie’s brother a smile, and he tips his beer at me in return.
The guy to his right is the sucker stuck in a conversation with Chad, and I feel a little bad for him because I’ve always thought conversations with Chad were as interesting as talking to a wall. But to each their own.
“Sara, have you met Al?” Jack asks, motioning to Ellie’s best friend on his other side.
“Dude, I hate to break it to you, but you, Dylan, and Nate are the only ones who haven’t met her,” Sara says, giving me a warm smile. I usually see her once a week or so whenever she comes over to hang out with Ellie.
Jack’s jaw drops, and the way he turns to look at Ellie causes laughter to spill from me. The only way I can describe his expression right now is utter betrayal, and I think it’s hilarious.
“Sara has met Alondra too? Do you just hate me or something?” he asks, and Ellie laughs too.
“No, I don’t hate you, Jack,” she says, taking a drink.
Jack’s mouth tilts into a smile, and his eyes slide to meet mine. “See, Al? I told you I have platonic friends who are girls. Ellie and Sara count.”
“So you haven’t asked either of them for a kiss to save your ego with your buddies?” I ask, giving him the sweetest smile I can.
His blue eyes flash, and Dylan snorts. “That’s how you got her to kiss you? Damn, Schultz. You’re losing your touch,” he says, shaking his head at his captain.
“It worked, didn’t it?” I can’t help laughing because it did. I smile back at Jack, surprising both of us, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, maybe he isn’t so bad.
“Did I miss something? I thought you hated hockey players, and now you’re kissing them in bars, Alondra?” Chad asks, chiming in, and Macy quickly elbows him, but it’s too late. The question is already hanging in the open while we’re surrounded by hockey players.
I stir my drink, biting back my immediate response.
I wouldn’t have even been here if it weren’t for him breaking up with Macy, only to ask her to get back together less than a week later.
Jack raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for an explanation, but I don’t have one—or at least, not one I want to share in front of four of my father’s players.
“How do you hate hockey when your dad coaches?” Dylan asks, and I shrug, stalling by taking a drink of my rum with a splash of Coke.
“I don’t hate hockey,” I answer, and Ellie bumps my knee under the table with hers.
“Well, I think it’s boring, and my brother plays, so I’m not sure why it matters,” Ellie says, and Jack gives me a smile before taking a swig of the water in front of him.
“Good enough for me. I appreciate honesty more than a dick trying to put someone down in front of others,” Jack responds to Chad, his eyes never leaving mine. He just won himself some major points in my book.
Out of the corner of my vision, I see Chad stiffen. “We’re going to the bar. Does anyone need anything to drink?” he asks, but I think there’s a good chance he’ll spit in every glass after that.
“I would like if you went away and never came back,” I mumble under my breath. Ellie’s quiet laughter next to me tells me I wasn’t quiet enough. Macy’s face shifts into a silent plea, begging me to be nice to Chad. “I’m good, thanks.”
Everyone else shakes their heads before we reshuffle to let them out.
“I thought they broke up?” Jack asks, watching them walk away.
“It changes by the week,” I say, sipping my drink.
“He’s a dick.” The guy who was stuck talking with Chad says, and Coop grimaces.
“Took you that long to figure out? Chaz talked over her ten times in the first three minutes of them sitting,” he says, and I can honestly say I think Coop might be my favorite at the table.
“I was being nice—something you might want to try every once in a while,” he says, rolling his eyes before offering me a smile.
“I’m Nate. I think I owe you a drink for helping Cap with his class.
” He exudes charisma, drawing me in with his easy smile and honey eyes.
That makes him Nate Baxter, leader in the Wolves’ penalties last season, but the man sitting in front of me is very different from the “tough guy” persona he presents on the ice.
“Or I can get her one myself, Baxter.” Jack’s voice is a low rumble, drawing my attention back to him. I bite back a laugh because he might as well be a dog lifting his leg on a tree, claiming it as his.
Too bad for him, I have no intention of being pissed on anytime soon.
Coop rolls his eyes, taking a drink of his beer when a grunt slips from Jack.
“Why did you kick me?” he asks, narrowing his pretty eyes at Ellie, and she scoffs.
“Do you even have to ask? Did you take a hit to the head at practice today or something?”
Jack sputters and I shake my head, turning to talk to Ellie’s brother instead. “Coop, you’re left-handed, aren’t you?” I ask, and he tilts his head.
“Yeah?” he answers, and suddenly his difference in saves from the right and left sides of the goal makes sense.
“You should work on drills to strengthen your right side. If I’m remembering correctly, most of the shots that snuck past you last season were on that side of the goal,” I say, taking a long drink of my rum and Coke, a fuzzy feeling beginning to soften the hard edges of my personality.
Coop looks at me like I’m a pig that sprouted wings. “Your dad told me the same thing last month.”
A lump forms in my throat at the mention of my dad, and I shrug.
“Good,” I say, feeling the weight of Jack’s stare.
I know I started this conversation, but silly me thinking Dad wouldn’t be brought up.
“You planning to spend less time in the penalty box this season?” I ask, directing the question at Nate while tugging the neck of my sweater.
“Not a chance.” Nate grins, and I chuckle, shaking my head. I reach for my drink, taking a long sip, and this isn’t as bad as I expected it to be. I’ll never admit it to a soul, though.
I comb my fingers through my curls, lifting them off the back of my neck.
It seemed like a great idea when facing the chill outside on the walk over, but now this bar is beginning to feel more like a sauna.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and Macy and Chad will want to leave soon, giving me an excuse to leave with them.
Ellie’s leg bumps mine, and she smiles at me. “I’m glad you’re here. Saves me and Sara from being the only ones getting glared at by all the puck bunnies.”
“You’re not making me want to stay,” I say, taking another drink and look around the crowded bar. Sure enough, there’s more than a few people staring at our table.
“What if I said Jack drove, which means we don’t have to walk back to the apartment from here?
” Ellie suggests, and it does sound better than walking back in the dark.
“He also usually takes Sara and me to get food before dropping us off,” she continues, and I think I can stick it out a little longer.
Still, it feels more like I’ve been thrown to the wolves—literally.