Chapter 24
Alondra
Why did I think it would be okay to break my rule about the hockey team for the fucking captain? I should have sent Jack and his stupid dimples packing the second he asked for a kiss.
Instead, I took pity on him, and now I’m the moron falling for the guy who’s quickly become one of my best friends.
I never should have made an exception for him.
This is only going to end badly with someone getting hurt, and I would rather it be me because I hate the idea of being the one to cause Jack pain.
I shove my gloves into the pockets of my parka as I move to unzip the front now that I’ve made it into the tunnels.
I didn’t like the cold before Bradley left me at the bottom of his stairs, but now I hate it, and unfortunately for me, winter’s shown its face early this year with a record-breaking snowstorm in November.
I’m so over it already. Not only do I like to torture myself by spending more time with Jack than without him, I also like to look at the weather in Fort Worth where it’s sunny and in the sixties.
My fur-lined hood helped to block out some of the swirling snow, but classes should have been cancelled today.
The underground tunnels only reach a few parking garages on campus, and the worst part of having an eleven a.m. class is that the garages fill up by eight, making it impossible to snag a spot.
The sour mood I’m in only worsens when I walk into class, hoping Jack brought coffee, only to learn he isn’t even here yet. I record a quick voice memo asking where he is because if I can be in class with a blizzard outside, then he can show up too.
Keri was smart to not brave the cold, but Jack doesn’t even respond until class is already over, claiming to be sick.
He was fine when I saw him last night, and I’m not sure I believe him. A simple cold seems to knock out even the toughest men, but I had the flu during my freshman year for three days before Macy begged me to go to the doctor. Without sitting by Jack and Keri, I was bored out of my mind in Comp II.
I know Coop has a class in the building next to ours that gets out a little later, so I catch a ride with him back to their house where I learn Jack really is sick.
“I wouldn’t go up there,” Dylan warns after I walk past him toward the stairs.
“I tried to tell her,” Coop says, and I roll my eyes.
“He was literally fine when he left my apartment twelve hours ago,” I say, ignoring them to stomp up the stairs.
Jack’s door is shut, but I’ve learned my lesson when it comes to showing up unannounced, knocking first. I cover my eyes with one hand, opening the door with the other. “Are you decent?” I ask, taking a step in as he coughs.
“Yeah,” he says, groaning, and I can hear how congested Jack is, even with only one word spoken.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” I ask, after dropping my hand, spotting Jack wrapped in blankets on the bed, but it looks like he’s still shivering.
“Fine. Just a little cold. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“Jack! You have a game Friday night,” I point out, and he pulls the blankets tighter around himself.
“I’m aware. I went to practice, but Coach B sent me home claiming I looked like shit. I’m hoping it’s just a twenty-four-hour thing.”
Definitely not a twenty-four-hour bug, but if he actually takes care of himself, he might be well enough to play.
“You do look like shit.” I move closer, pressing the inside of my wrist against his forehead, and there’s no doubt he’s running a fever. Jack rolls, trying to shift away from me.
“Go away,” he protests, and I scoff, shaking my head because there’s no way I’m going to leave him lying in bed all day, miserable.
I march into his bathroom, picking up the towel on the floor to toss it in his laundry hamper before running the water, letting it reach a lukewarm temperature before putting the stopper in the drain.
“Al, what are you doing?” he croaks, staggering behind me as I stand to grab his cinnamon body wash off the shelf, squirting some underneath the spout to create bubbles as the tub fills.
“Running you a bath. It’ll help you feel better, but you also need to drink fluids to stay hydrated.”
He runs a hand through his already disheveled hair, and my stomach flutters. Even when he’s sick, he looks good. “I’m not lying in filthy water. I’m fine.”
“Do you want to play this weekend or not?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips.
Jack’s crystal eyes are heavy, laden with exhaustion, and he slumps against the doorframe. “Fine,” he mumbles, admitting defeat.
He shivers after pulling his shirt off, dropping it on the floor, and if I weren’t too busy staring at his body, I’d probably say something.
Pull yourself together, I scold myself, tearing my gaze away to the still-filling tub.
It’s rude to stare, especially when he’s too sick to even make a joke about it.
Jack drops his sweatpants next, his black briefs clinging to his thick thighs, leaving little to the imagination.
He doesn’t need to keep them on since I’ve already seen everything, but this feels like a bad time to bring that up.
Jack grimaces when he steps into the tub, slowly lowering himself in the water.
It’s a tight fit, and I try not to laugh because I think if I do, he’ll get out immediately.
Jack’s knees stick out of the water, and only half of his chest is submerged.
Jack sighs, closing his eyes to lean against the tile.
“You should go. I don’t want to get you sick. ”
I grab his clothes from the floor, throwing them in the hamper as well, to take a seat on the lid of the toilet. “I have a strong immune system. I rarely get sick, even when I lived in the dorms, so I think you’re stuck with me. I’d hate for you to fall asleep in the water and drown.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you might be wishing for that to happen.”
“What? And then deprive myself of your friendship?” I ask, and Jack opens his eyes to smile, but it’s faint.
“You were pretty insistent on us not being friends in the first place,” he argues, closing them again.
“Well, yeah. You’re a hockey player, and literally the only rule I had for myself was no hockey players—even as friends. Besides, I feel like we’re on borrowed time until my dad finds out I’m not just your tutor.”
“If you’re not just my tutor, then what are you?
” Jack asks, and it feels like a loaded question.
I don’t know what I am anymore. I know I’m his friend, but I like kissing him too much to only be Jack’s friend.
It’s comical considering how hard I fought against becoming his friend, but now I don’t want to risk ruining our friendship because I caught feelings.
I wish it weren’t so damn confusing and complicated.
I wish I wasn’t afraid to let myself feel more than friendship toward him.
“I’m your friend,” I say, because there’s nothing else to say. “And he’s going to lose his shit,” I say, knowing we’re on a clock, running out of time.
Hockey has always been my dad’s thing, and it was something I desperately wanted to be a part of until I realized it was hopeless to try.
Now with Jack, I’m knee deep in it, and somehow, Dad has no fucking clue.
“Do you really think Coach’ll be that upset about it?” Jack asks, sniffling as he crosses his arms over his chest, bringing my attention once again to the delicate silver hanging around his neck.
“I’ve honestly tried to not think about it, but I don’t think Dad would be as mad if it were anyone else on the team. But you’re you, so I’d put money on it.”
“What does it matter that it’s me?”
I exhale a quiet laugh, tapping my fingers on my thigh. “Come on, pretty boy. Do you really need me to stroke your ego by pointing out you were the third overall draft pick two years ago, and you’re his star player and team captain? I shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”
He coughs into his elbow, sniffling a few times before responding, struggling to keep his blue eyes open. “There’s nothing wrong with our friendship.”
I can’t ignore the tightening in my chest at the word friendship. That’s all we’ll ever be.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” I say, but I don’t think I am.
“Sometimes I wish it was just about the game. No money, no draft—just skating and playing hockey. It’s all I thought I wanted,” Jack mumbles, and I’m not sure what he means by it. Has what he wanted changed?
I want to ask, but I’m pretty sure Jack’s fallen asleep.
I’m in so far over my fucking head.
He’s wormed his way into my life like a parasite, and now I don’t know what to do without him. He’s gone above and beyond to prove he isn’t anything like Bradley, and whether Jack knows it or not, he’s helping to mend the pieces of myself I thought couldn’t be put together again.
I step out of the bathroom for a moment, listening to hear if he moves, but now I’m noticing what a disaster his normally clean room is.
Jack’s clothes from practice are on the floor by the bed, the dresser drawers are half-open, and his blankets are strewn everywhere from tossing and turning.
I try my best to straighten things up, wishing I knew where his spare sheets were so I could change them.
I’m sure his bed is exactly where he’ll head once he’s awake and out of the tub.
When I check on Jack, I’m relieved but a little concerned he hasn’t moved, so I hover for a moment, waiting until I see his chest rise and fall again. Jack looks so peaceful, and he probably needed the rest, especially with the season in full swing.
If I were smart, I’d start distancing myself before this all ends in disaster, but maybe I just like playing with fire.