Chapter 19
Alondra
It’s been a few days since Halloween, and Jack has been true to his word.
Things haven’t changed between us or become weird, and I’m grateful for it.
At the same time, I also haven’t been able to stop replaying it in my mind.
I thought it was hard to ignore what one kiss with Jack felt like, but now that I know what hooking up with him is like, I’m tempted to know what everything feels like.
No one questioned our disappearance at the party, but I guess I was a little too enthusiastic when kissing Jack’s neck, and I left a hickey behind. Jack left his mark on me too, but at least my hair was able to hide it for the rest of the night.
I’ve gotten the hang of how to blend the concealer into my skin to hide it the last few days, and it’s fading, just not as fast as I wish it would.
Now I’m just trying to figure out if I can be true to my word because every time I look at Jack, I think about kissing Jack, and then I spiral down a rabbit hole I have no business going down.
I twist my hips, turning my skates to stop quickly on the ice before taking off again, darting around Jack as I pick up speed. “Catch me if you can,” I call out over my shoulder, and I catch a glimpse of his smirk before I turn around.
“Al, you could at least make it challenging for me,” he says, and the sound of his skates scraping as they push off the ice makes it easy for me to hear how close he’s getting. I cut a sharp turn after hearing Jack behind me, and a laugh rumbles from his chest.
I slow down, glancing back at him. “That defeats the purpose of skating together this morning. You’re supposed to be taking it easy before your game tonight, and while I can’t skate faster than you, I am the better skater because I’m more efficient and controlled than you are.
“Al, I might not be able to do any of the fancy jumps and shit you can, but it doesn’t mean you’re the better skater.”
“Prove it then, pretty boy,” I say, scoffing. Whatever. If I were in my prime before I quit skating, I could beat Jack with my eyes closed.
I push off again, but this time, he catches up to me faster than before, and I anticipate him catching me moments before Jack’s arms wrap around my waist.
A yelp slips from me, and I grab onto his arms as he laughs, his chest shaking against my back through the thin sweatshirt I’m wearing. “Jack!” I exclaim, spinning in his arms to hit his chest.
“Al!” he mimics, feigning a falsetto voice, and I push out of his grip, laughing.
“That isn’t what I sound like.”
“That isn’t what I sound like.”
I roll my eyes and skate backward. “You suck.” I wish I could come up with something better on the spot, but my brain feels scrambled from Jack’s arms around my waist.
Oh my god, I need to get it together. I do not want to be the clingy girl who can’t let a hookup simply be just that.
“You’re getting stronger and faster,” he compliments, and I feel a spark of happiness rise in me because the grueling hours I’m putting in at the gym are paying off. My jumps are cleaner and my spins smooth with more rotations. Slowly but surely, I’m getting back to what—and who—I used to be.
“Just not as fast as you,” I retort, shaking my head at Jack.
“You took some time off, but if it makes you feel better, I’m me. No one’s faster than me.”
If anyone else said it, I’d say they’re a cocky son of a bitch, but after watching his last few games, Jack’s saying it as a fact. “Can I ask you something?”
Jack chuckles, dragging a hand through his hair. “Sure,” he says, flipping around to skate backward next to me.
“Why haven’t you signed a contract to go into the league?”
“Honestly, I wanted to sign right after the draft, but my momma begged me to come here first to get my degree. She never went to college, and always said she regretted it, so it’s her dream for me.
Hockey is mine, but I knew if I went right away, I’d miss out on time on the ice where I could get more experience.
Coming here to play for Coach B seemed like the best choice for everyone. ”
“Why didn’t she go?” I ask, letting curiosity get the better of me.
“She fell in love with the wrong guy, and they got pregnant with me the summer before her freshman year,” he says, his hands reaching to find his necklace hiding beneath his shirt.
The necklace I’ve been too chicken to ask about because I feel like if Jack wanted to talk about it, then he would.
It would make sense, though, if it belonged to his mom.
“The only thing she’s ever wanted for me was an education.
It’s the least I can do after everything she has done to make my dream of playing hockey possible. ”
For a moment, I’m envious of the relationship he has with his mother. I mean, the way Jack talks about her and the person she raised him to be goes to show what kind of person and mother she is.
“I bet she’s really proud of you, Jack,” I say, trying to let myself feel two things at once because it’s possible to be happy for someone for having an incredible parent, and be jealous of the relationship at the same time.
The cool air kisses my cheeks, and I veer away from Jack, swinging into a spin on one foot after shifting to the front of my blade. As I rotate, I tuck my arms in as I pull my free leg across my body, and the world around me becomes a blur.
I feel like myself.
“You’re in a good mood today,” Jack comments, smiling at me when I slow and tilt my head.
“What’s not to be happy about? We’re alive and we’re free. Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?”
He pushes his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “It’s just a good look on you.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I push off again, skating around the edges of the rink, immensely grateful that I’ve gotten to a place where I can be on the ice again. Jack is leaning against the boards, watching when I come back around.
“What time does your mom’s flight get in today?”
“I’m heading to the airport after Comp II so I can spend some time with her before I have to come back here to warm up,” he says, smiling as he moves to step off the ice. “Are you coming to the game tonight?”
I actually had a lot of fun at the game last Friday, sitting with Ellie and Sara, but it was stressful waiting to see if my dad was going to see me.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask, following after him, grabbing my skate guards off the boards to walk toward the bench he’s taking a seat on.
Jack chuckles, giving me an odd look. “I do, but I’ve been trying not to make you feel like you have to go. I know it’s complicated for you.”
“I mean, it is, but . . .” I trail off, sitting next to him. I’m worried if I go two weekends in a row, I’ll be pushing my luck when it comes to my dad seeing me in the stands.
He nudges my arm with his elbow, smiling at me with those damn dimples that make my brain turn into a pile of mush.
“Would it help if I told you Momma wants to sit with you during the game? She keeps asking me during our calls if you’re going, but once she’s here, I’m not going to be able to avoid answering. ”
“Really?” I ask, reaching down to undo the laces of my skates as Jack does the same.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t she want to meet you?
You’re one of my best friends,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling.
“Please, Al? Will you come and wear my jersey?” Jack asks, jutting out his bottom lip in a pout, drawing my attention to his very kissable lips.
Nope. I’m not thinking about kissing him, because if I do, then I’ll start thinking about other things with him, and that’s not fair.
I laugh, shaking my head at him as I pull off my skates. “Jack, you’re a grown ass adult. Why are you pouting?”
“Because this pout works on everyone, and I want you to say yes.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I snort, because maybe it worked when he was five years old instead of twenty-one. “I’ll go, but I’m not wearing your jersey.”
Jack bats his lashes at me. “Please?”
“No, it’ll send the wrong message,” I retort, taking off the skate guards to dry them with a towel before covering the blades with soakers.
“You’re worried wearing my jersey to my game will send the wrong message?” Jack asks, and the amusement in his tone makes me want to stick my tongue out at him.
I’m pretty sure wearing Jack’s jersey will be the least of my worries when it comes to sending the wrong message, but it’ll make it a little easier for me to pretend I’m fine after hooking up with him if I’m not wearing a jersey drenched in the intoxicating smell of cinnamon for an entire night.
“You really want to argue with me, pretty boy?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at Jack.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say I think you’re the one who likes to argue with me.
Wearing my jersey doesn’t have to mean anything,” he says, and I know I’m not imagining his eyes dropping to the lingering mark he left on my neck.
We haven’t spoken about it once since leaving his room that night, but now I’m wondering if he thinks about it as much as I have.
My god, it’d be so easy to lean over and kiss him.
Jack’s gaze is slow to rise again to meet mine, and his full lips part, causing shivers down my spine as I picture how it felt to have them on me.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, hating the way my voice sounds breathy. I clear my throat, turning away from him to stand up, creating space between us to put my skates in my bag.
“Cool, um, great. I’ll bring one to class in case I don’t see you this afternoon,” Jack says, fumbling over his words for a moment, and it’s nice to know I’m not the only one affected by this.
“Now as much as I enjoy spending time with you, if you don’t want to get caught by your dad, you might wanna get going,” he says, and I grab my phone, realizing the time. Shit, it’s later than I thought.
I feign a dramatic gasp, trying to make myself act normal, but maybe I’m not even sure what my normal is anymore. “You like spending time with me?”
Jack laughs, wiping his blades with the same towel I used. “Of course I do. You and your sparkling personality. Seriously, though, you should go.”
“Are you good with holding on to these still?”
Jack looks at his phone for a moment before setting it down again. “Of course. Is it okay if I ask our equipment manager to sharpen them when he sharpens the teams’ this morning?”
“He’s not going to tell my dad you threw in some figure skater’s skates in with a bunch of hockey skates?” I ask, doubtful, but my skates do need sharpening, and it’d save me the time from taking them to a shop.
“Frank’s easily bought with sweets,” Jack says.
“If he’s okay with it, then that’d be awesome. I appreciate you.” I smile at him as I slip into my slides.
“Damn right you do.” He winks at me with a goofy smile on his face, and I make my escape before I’m caught red handed by my father.