Chapter 14 Jack #3
“Turn the fucking alarm off before I smother you with a fucking pillow, Al,” Macy threatens, scaring the shit out of me because I had no idea she was in the same room as us.
This is a nightmare. I rest my hands on Alondra’s hips, trying to move her off me as she leans to grab the phone, but all I do is cause her to go flying off the couch.
She yelps, hitting the floor with a thud.
“Fuck!”
“Shit, are you okay?” I ask, terrified I just hurt her when it’s the last thing I ever want to do.
“Fine,” she chokes out, tossing the phone at me, but it’s pitch black, smacking me straight in my eye.
“Motherfucker,” I swear, my hand going up to my eye, and Macy groans again.
Why didn’t she turn the alarm off before chucking it at me?
I fumble for the phone, finally silencing it when a door opens and a light flips on. At least now, my eye is the only thing throbbing. “What the hell is going on out here?” Ellie grumbles, and I blink, adjusting to the light.
Macy’s hair is a tangled disaster on her head, but the murderous glare she’s directing my way is as scary as Coach Brown’s sometimes. Wow, who would have guessed Little Miss Sunshine over there isn’t a morning person?
“Sorry, I guess I fell asleep,” I apologize, climbing off the couch, and I feel fucking awful when I see Al touching the bump on her forehead from our uncoordinated attempt to separate.
“It’s fine,” Alondra mumbles, not looking up at me.
Great. We took one step forward last night, and a thousand backward this morning.
“Jack, your eye,” Ellie says, staring at me.
My phone rings in my hand, and Macy opens her mouth, but I quickly answer it before she can threaten to smother me with a pillow. I can feel my eye starting to swell, and I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to explain it to Coach.
“Yo, are you already at the barn?” Dylan asks, and I spot my hoodie on the ground and grab it before moving for my shoes and keys by the door.
“No, I’m not there yet.”
He laughs, but I don’t find anything amusing about this. “Where the hell are you then? Morning skate starts in thirty.”
“I know,” I reply, my tone harsher than needed. “Can you grab some clothes for me, and I’ll meet you at the locker room in ten? I’m at Al’s.”
“Jack!” Al protests, and it’s too early for this. “You shouldn’t have told him you were here.”
“You got it, Capt. You should check the group chat, though,” he suggests, and I’m honestly not sure if I want to look.
Ellie is leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. “Sorry, Al, they already knew he was here. Dylan was fucking with you.” Apparently, I’ve pissed everyone off this morning.
Ellie does not look happy with me, but I have to get to practice before Coach has my head.
If you’re fifteen minutes early, you’re on time, and he’s a stickler when it comes to our schedule.
“It’s not a big deal. We accidentally fell asleep, which makes it a platonic sleepover.
” I pull my hoodie over my head, slipping into my sneakers.
“Sorry,” I blurt out again, making my retreat.
If I had more time before morning skate starts, I’d probably try to find the right words, but how exactly do you apologize for accidentally staying the night and then waking Al up to my dick stabbing her.
I’m out of breath by the time I arrive at the arena, having sprinted from my truck in the parking lot to make it with enough time to get dressed before we have to be on the ice.
The locker room is filled with chatter, and I duck my head, hoping to avoid questions about my eye for as long as I can, walking straight toward Dylan as he pulls his practice jersey over his pads. He bows dramatically. “Your Highness,” he mocks, causing Coop to cough from the stall next to mine.
“Not in the mood,” I answer in a clipped tone, and now Coop and Nate turn to face me as Dylan tosses a bag in my direction.
“I would have thought you’d be shooting sunshine out your ass since you looked pretty cozy snuggling with your tutor last night in the picture Ellie sent the group,” Dylan continues, ignoring my sourness. “Oh shit, what happened to your eye?”
“Nothing,” I say, doing my best to get ready on time.
Just Al having the best fucking aim in the world.
“Did she hit you?” Nate asks, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
“No. We fell asleep on the couch last night, and I woke up to my alarm with morning wood.”
Coop chuckles, shaking his head. “What happened to your big dick energy from last night?”
“Fuck off.”
“So what? She woke up to it, and punched you?” Dylan asks, doing a terrible job at keeping the shit-eating grin off his face.
I start pulling on my pads, trying not to picture the look on her face when I left. Goddammit. I didn’t mean to hurt her this morning.
“No, Macy was asleep on the other couch and is about as chipper in the mornings as a demon from hell. I accidentally threw Al off the couch, so she threw the phone at me, but it was dark so I caught it with my face,” I say, grimacing because it sounds even worse saying it out loud.
“Al wouldn’t even look me in the eye before I left,” I mumble, wondering how the fuck I’m going to fix this.
“Any chance she didn’t feel it?” Nate asks, and for someone so smart, he sure likes to ask dumb questions.
“I don’t know. Is the sky blue? Of course she fucking noticed.”
The chorus of laughter in the locker room doesn’t make me feel any better.