Chapter 7
Alondra
Within ten minutes, everything went to shit. When Macy and Chad were at the bar, a girl approached that Chad had been messaging during their short break. Except, they’d continued messaging after he and Macy got back together.
There were text messages from just an hour before we got to the bar, in which where he told the girl he would come see her later. Once she spotted him with Macy, it was game over.
Hoes before bros.
Macy ordered a round of shots after her very public breakup, and friends don’t let friends do breakup shots alone so I took them with her. Ellie felt bad and roped Coop, Nate, and Dylan into also taking a shot, but Sara and Jack stayed sober.
Ellie and I continue taking shots with Macy after the guys switch back to their beers, and I’m a giggling mess as Macy moans about what a terrible lay Chad was.
I’m hopeful that after coming face to face with another girl Chad planned on messing around with, this will be the last time they break up.
“He didn’t deserve you,” I say, and she grabs the last shot from the middle of the table, throwing it back with ease.
“He didn’t deserve me,” she repeats, and Ellie gasps, covering her mouth with her hands.
“Isn’t the best way to get over someone to get under someone else?” she asks, and Sara laughs, shaking her head.
“I’m all for living in the moment, but maybe not tonight.”
Macy grins, and I think I agree with Sara.
“El, last time we tried that mentality, I ended up kissing Jack,” I say, giggling as I point to the hockey captain sitting across from me.
The corners of his mouth tip up into a smile.
I feel my face heat as my gaze drops to stare at his pink lips, and I wonder if he’d kiss me again?
“I didn’t say you needed to end up under someone else,” Ellie says, grabbing onto my arm, pulling my attention away from Jack.
“She does,” Macy adds, and I turn too fast to look at her, my vision spinning for a moment.
“I do not! This is not gang up on Alondra night,” I protest, beyond mortified we’re talking about this.
“I volunteer as tribute if you’re looking for someone,” Dylan adds, winking at me, and I can’t deny he’s handsome.
All four of them are, but there’s something inviting about Dylan, with his warm brown skin and dark eyes.
Maybe it has something to do with his personality, but if I’m going to break my rule about hockey players, I’m afraid the spot is already taken—whether I want to admit it or not.
“You’re against my rule,” I say, a short laugh sputtering from me. I look at each of the annoyingly attractive men sitting at the table with us, shaking my head. “All of you are.”
“What rule?” Nate asks, tilting his head to the side.
“We need more shots,” I say, switching gears, and Ellie beams, sliding out for me to climb out.
“Get another round of lemon ones,” she says, giving me a thumbs up, and I laugh as Coop drags a hand over his face.
I’m halfway to the bar when I realize Jack is following behind me. I turn to look at him, and my feet trip over each other, sending me straight into his firm chest.
Holy buckets.
His large hands land on my waist, helping to steady me, but I don’t take my hands off him. Instead, I reach up to where the silver chain is peeking out from underneath his shirt, and his chest hitches. “Hi,” I say, laughing as I look up at his dreadfully handsome face.
He’s been quiet tonight, and I’m not sure what it means. Normally I’m begging him to be quiet, but this hurts my head.
“Where are you going?” he asks, and I tilt my head—or maybe everything else tilts—because I thought I made it clear where I was going.
“To the bar for more shots?” I say, twisting the chain between my fingers, warm from his body heat. “What’s this for?”
Jack’s face softens, and I think I’m imagining the concern swimming in his crystal eyes. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough, darlin’?” he asks, but I can’t think because his hands are on me, and all I can think about is how it’d feel to have them all over me instead.
“No,” I say, another laugh slipping from me, and his lips tease the ghost of a smile.
“Alondra,” he says, his hand closing around mine to pull it from his necklace, and I feel my stomach drop.
Oh my god. What am I doing? He’s one of Dad’s players, and I’m his tutor. That’s all this can be.
I shake my head, stepping back from him, feeling the room spin as the music grows louder, pounding through my head.
“Go back to the table, I’m fine, Jack.” Someone walking by bumps into me, and I grab the barstool next to me for stability.
His eyebrows knit as he looks at me, frowning, and before he can say anything, I realize I’m nervous because of Jack.
What the fuck is going on with me? “I need to pee,” I squeak out, retreating toward the bathroom to hide, hoping he won’t follow me.
I do actually have to use the bathroom, and thankfully, it’s not too busy for a Saturday night. After washing my hands, I take a few deep breaths, trying to untangle the chaos in my head, which is worse than a pair of neglected headphones.
I shouldn’t want anything to do with Jack, but I’m starting to feel like my old self again—the one I said goodbye to.
Fuck, pull it together.
I’m drunk. That’s all this is. I don’t actually want him to kiss or touch me, and I don’t want to know whatever shitty meaning lies behind his stupid necklace.
Jack isn’t your friend—he’s a hockey player, and not just any player, he’s Dad’s star hockey player.
But Jack is . . . stubborn, hot, and a great kisser. He makes me feel something, even if I shouldn’t.
Two girls stumble into the bathroom, jolting me from my silent conversation with myself, and I slide past them, exiting the bathroom. I move toward the bar, and I feel like my life flashes before my eyes at the sight of the guy I’ve successfully avoided for the last nine months.
My feet stop of their own accord, and I’m frozen, caught in a replay of all the horrible moments with Bradley right up until the moment he left me lying broken on the ground at the bottom of his front steps in the freezing cold like I was no better than a broken doll he was tired of playing with.
I’m not even sure if I’m breathing, my throat constricting to the point I’m choking on the air intended to keep me alive.
Al, move before he sees you.
Bradley’s hunched over the pool table in the corner of the bar with some of his friends. His back is to me, so there’s no way I’ve been spotted, but even the close proximity of being in the same room as him sobers me.
And then I make eye contact with Jack after he spins around with two waters in his hands, a smile transforming his face.
My shock and horror must not show on my face because he walks in my direction, extending a water to me. “You should drink this. It’ll help make you feel less shitty in the morning,” he says, and I blink, staring at it.
I shouldn’t be here. I knew tonight was a bad idea.
“Al?”
I blink again, looking up at Jack who is beginning to look at me in a way that makes my blood pound in my ears.
“I need to go,” I say, unable to help from taking another glance to make sure his back is still to me. Move, Alondra.
Jack looks in the same direction I did, but unlike me, he’s noticeable in a crowded room, and it’s enough to kick me into gear.
I move through the crowd of people, desperate to get out of here.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I can’t even bring myself to care that I left my roommate and my best friend at the table.
The chill hits me the moment I walk out the front door, but the first breath of cold air feels more like inhaling shards of glass, and I try not to disappear into the nightmare I’ve already escaped.
My head spins from the shots like I’m on a merry-go-round unable to stop, moving faster and faster and leaving me no choice but to hold on.
While my mind has cleared, my body hasn’t received the same memo, and my foot slips on one of the stairs, causing me to lurch forward. An arm hooks around my waist, catching me before I can fall face first into the pavement, and I don’t have to look to know it’s Jack.
“Who are you running from?” he asks, his voice somehow breaking through all the noise in my head.
“No one,” I say, giving myself a moment to regain my balance before moving again.
Bradley is no one, and I force another breath into my lungs.
“Al, you’ve taken enough shots to knock out a horse. You’re drunk, and it’s cold as hell out here. Let’s go back inside,” he says when I remove his hands from me.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” I say, because I can’t go back in there. I can’t be the smallest version of myself again, and Bradley has a way of making me feel microscopic.
“Alondra,” Jack says, his footsteps following me.
“Go away, Jack.”
He scoffs, and I trip on a crack, except this time I catch myself without his help. “For fuck’s sake, will you just slow down and tell me what’s going on before you get hurt?”
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to conserve my body heat, but it’s colder now than it was when we first got to Twin City. “Jack, go back inside. We’re not friends—you don’t need to follow me to make sure I’m okay.”
“Why are we not friends again?” he asks, appearing unfazed by the temperature despite only wearing a short sleeve and jeans.
“Because you’re you!” I shout, throwing my hands out in frustration.
“I’m me?” Jack has the nerve to look hurt when I’ve been nothing but honest about wanting nothing to do with him from the moment I learned who he was.
I have no desire to have the conversation regarding my daddy issues or my complex relationship history with him ever, but especially not now.
“Jack, it’s nothing personal, but I don’t want to be friends with you. I’ve done the whole ‘hang with the jocks’ before, and I can’t make myself small enough again for your ego to fill a room. I’ll tutor you, but that’s all you’ll get from me. Tonight was a mistake.”