Chapter 27
. . .
Will
“All cell phones must be switched to Airplane mode now, sir.”
I nod once and ignore the attendant. We both know I have at least five more minutes before I need to use the plane’s Wi-Fi.
Me
I have 36 hours before the next practice, and even then, I could spin Coach a story about having the flu.
Mason
Are you seriously on a flight to Vancouver?
Me
Yes. Quicker than the ferry because the weather is shit.
Mason
Damn. Maybe this is where I went wrong with Eloise for all those years. I should’ve been chasing her across countries rather than simply picking up the phone and calling her like a normal person would.
Me
Ha-fucking-ha. You know Drew has gone dark, and therefore, calling is no longer an option.
Mason
Did you ever stop and think that maybe she actually needs the space she told you about when you stalked her into your parents’ bathroom?
Me
I wish I hadn’t told you about that part.
Mason
Was she still peeing when you barged in and declared your love for her?
Me
Fuck off.
Mason
I think if I were a chick and you were obsessed with me, then I’d flee to Vancouver too. At least then, I could take a leak in peace.
Me
Fuck off.
Mason
But seriously, what are you going to do when you arrive in Vancouver? Do you even have her sister’s address?
Me
Yeah. Her sister texted it to me before I booked the flight.
Mason
I have no words other than wow. You even have Drew’s family wrapped around your finger. Well, other than Coach, who will bury you under the rink when he finds out that you’re boning his eldest daughter.
Me
We’ve slept together once—if you count multiple times that night and then again in the morning as one session—and I’m not chasing her for sex.
Okay, maybe I’m hoping for a little bit of sex while I’m there, but not just for that.
Mason
Thanks for the breakdown of your first sexual encounter with Drew. I really appreciated that. What else do you have planned besides rolling around in bed with your publicist?
Me
Fuck me, man. I’m really fucking glad these messages are encrypted.
Mason
Same.
Me
What’s the latest with Eloise?
Mason
She isn’t answering my calls, and I can’t say that I blame her. Would you pick up after seeing those images with the blonde girl in Brooklyn?
Me
Probably not. Sounds like you should book a flight to France.
Mason
I would if she was actually in France and I thought that our marriage wasn’t totally fucked. Last I heard, she was in Seattle, and when I got home from Brooklyn, I noticed a few more things were missing from the house.
Me
She returned to Seattle while you were gone, but didn’t tell you?
Mason
Yeah. I guess that says it all—if she truly wanted to work things out, then she would’ve stuck around and waited so we could speak face-to-face.
Me
I need to ask, what went wrong between you?
Mason
How long until your flight?
Me
We’re literally taxiing to the runway now, and I need to switch to Airplane mode.
Mason
Okay, well, when we’re next sharing a hotel room on an away series, I’ll tell you everything.
Me
Fuck. How much detail is there to go through?
Mason
Buddy, we were together for a decade and married for over half of that time. A lot has gone down between us, and I’m not proud of some of my actions.
Mason begins typing again, and I pause on replying to see what he’ll say next.
Mason
I know I’ve joked around about you flying to Vancouver between practice sessions. But really, I’m sitting here, taking notes and wishing that I’d been that smart with Eloise. She deserved more than I gave her, and now another guy will get his chance with the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Well, this is fucking awkward, I say to myself as I sit on the couch, opposite Marley’s boyfriend, Greg, and drink a beer with him that I was too polite to decline.
I’ve never met the guy before, although he continues talking like we’re long-lost friends. All I want to know is where his girlfriend and sister are tonight and if their whereabouts is why Drew isn’t replying to my texts.
“I still can’t believe I’ve got the Will Jones in my living room.” He shakes his head and downs the rest of his beer, motioning toward the full bottle between my palms, which I’ve been nursing for the past half hour. “Can I get you another?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” I reply.
He stands from the bright purple couch I know Marley picked out based on her sunshiny personality alone. He shakes out his long red hair and checks his watch. The pause in him talking presents me with the ideal opportunity to ask him again where Drew and Marley went tonight.
Seriously, if this guy was any more relaxed, he’d be horizontal.
“Did the girls tell you where they were headed?”
Greg makes his way into the kitchen, yelling, “I can’t remember the name of the place, but I think it was some new club that just opened a few blocks from here. Marley has been desperate to check it out, but I’m getting too old for that shit.”
He reappears in the living room with a fresh bottle of Bud.
A club? Fuck.
Sliding my cell from my jeans pocket, I check the time. It’s past eleven p.m.
“Did they say when they’d be back or if they needed a ride home?”
Greg looks at me with disbelief. “A ride home? They’re only a few blocks away, and they can grab a taxi if they need it.”
When I first showed up here, I kind of liked Greg. Now that I’m getting to know him better, I’m tempted to ask if he’s related to Tristan.
“Do you not give your girlfriend a ride home when she needs it? It’s not like you’re busy tonight.” I cock my head at the bay window overlooking downtown Vancouver, rain thumping down on the sidewalks. “Did they take an umbrella out with them?”
He scoffs at me and sits back on the couch, picking up the TV remote and switching to a random channel playing music videos. “Dude, I can’t even remember what my girl was wearing when she left. Whether she was carrying an umbrella sort of passed me by.”
Out of respect to Marley and Drew, I smile at Greg and refrain from saying what I really think. This guy is a dick.
Marley can do so much better—even I can work that one out in the short time I’ve known him. Being honest, it surprises me that Coach and Mia haven’t told Marley to dump this loser, but then again, they aren’t the type of people who would try and control who their daughters do and don’t date.
I hope that autonomy extends to me when they eventually find out about the feelings I harbor for Drew.
“Oh my God!” Marley’s joyful—and really loud—voice echoes down the hallway before the apartment door slams shut, and then I hear Drew whisper something I wish that I could make out.
Setting the bottle of beer on the coffee table in front of me, I sit forward and rest my elbows on my knees, trying to get ahold of myself.
Why am I nervous to see her?
“They’re definitely his sneakers, Marley!” This time, I hear Drew clearly, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Is she excited to see me too?
“You gave him your address?! You didn’t tell me that!” Drew attempts to whisper, but fails miserably.
“You realize that we can hear every single word you’re saying, right?”
Both Marley and Drew fall silent as soon as Greg points out the obvious, and Marley is the first sister to appear in the living room doorway.
Seriously, how her outfit isn’t imprinted in Greg’s brain is beyond me. She looks freaking stunning in a red dress that hits mid-thigh with a sweetheart neckline.
“Hey.” She waves a tentative hand at me, and that’s when I set eyes on the girl I chased across North America.
Holy fuck.
Gold has never looked so breathtaking as it does on my girl, who walks into the living room, wearing a matching two-piece miniskirt and cami.
I feel sure the outfit is one of Marley’s, and, goddamn, I bite down on my knuckles—the only way I can keep from verbalizing thoughts that are only meant for Drew.
Looking a little awkward, she stands in front of me, and all I want to do is plant my hands on her hips and pull her between my parted thighs like I know she’d love.
Marley grabs Greg’s hand, peeling him off the couch and marching them toward the doorway. “I think we should leave Will and Drew to talk.”
She points down the hallway. “Will, Drew has been using the inflatable bed, but if you want to crash on the couch, then there are some extra pillows and blankets in the closet on the right.”
Drew burns red, and I want to burst out laughing at how freaking awkward this whole situation is.
My girl tries to act cool with a casual smile. “Yep, Marl, thanks for that, but I think we can take the sleeping arrangements from here.”
With one last wave, Marley and Greg exit the living room and close the door behind them, their voices growing fainter until I hear another door close. All that remains is the noise from the streets outside and the thump of my pulse as it pounds in my ears.
“Hi,” I say, rising from the couch and standing in front of Drew.
Her hair is pulled into a braid tonight, which rests over one shoulder. She’s wearing more makeup than usual, and it’s applied similarly to Marley’s.
“You covered my marks on your neck,” I point out, desperate to make more.
She gazes up at me through long lashes.
So fucking beautiful.
“You came.”
I run my pointer finger across the back of her right hand, and I see the way her breathing picks up at the smallest touch.
“I already told you, you’re the only girl I’ve ever chased.”
She rolls her lips together, and I’m sure it’s to suppress a satisfied smile.
“Me coming to Vancouver wasn’t a test, if that’s what you think.”
I shrug and lace our fingers together. “Test or not, it makes no difference to me. Did I pass?”
She snorts a soft laugh, and her eyes, winged with black liner, fall to my lips.
Go on, Baby. Kiss me.
“Shouldn’t you be practicing in Seattle?”
Moving myself backward, I take a seat on the couch and part my thighs so she can step between them.
“I have twenty-four hours before I need to be back on the ice.”