Chapter 17
JENSEN
My arms are burning ever so slightly as I crutch out of the hospital from my MRI. I’m already sick of using these damn things.
Dr. Moore said he would call me with the results within the next couple of hours, but I’m not too stressed because I have a feeling I know what the scans will show.
I woke up this morning, feeling better than I expected …
mentally speaking. Physically, it feels as uncomfortable, throbbing, and painful as I remember from the last time I tore it.
I’m positive my better mood has a lot to do with the gorgeous blonde I woke up wrapped around.
I’m pretty sure she could solve world peace with that smile of hers.
I can’t get her out of my fucking head in a way I’ve never experienced before. Certainly not with anyone else, but even with her. That’s saying something, given that I’ve been infatuated with her since we were kids.
Although there is a thought in the back of my mind telling me that we might have been cursed. First, my accident on the ice happened and now her apartment flooded. But we’ll sort it all out together, I’m sure.
I want to do something nice for dinner tonight though. She deserves it after the week she’s had. We both do.
The driver I hired for the day pulls up to the front of the building, and I slide into the backseat.
We’re heading to the arena next so I can see the boys and coaches before heading home.
It’s going to be hard, watching them on the ice, knowing it’ll be months and months until I’m back at their sides.
Someone will shift into my defensive pair with Reed, and I have to find a way to be okay with it for the time being.
For the benefit of the team, I’m supportive, but selfishly, I’m jealous as hell.
“Thanks, man,” I thank the driver as we head to the rink, merging into the busy New York City traffic.
“Of course, sir.” He smiles in the rearview mirror at me.
Pulling my phone out, I shoot a quick text to Kos. He probably isn’t out on the ice yet, as there’s still thirty minutes to go, although he is usually the first one out there every practice.
Hey, do you still have the contact info for the private chef you guys hired for the last dinner?
The Kosteleckys host a dinner party usually once a month—a new tradition this season—and it’s been a lot of fun. But the food at the last one was top-fucking-tier, and Lainey deserves nothing less tonight.
Kos: [Auriella Chef Contact]
Kos: Here you go. You planning something?
Yeah, kind of.
Kos: For you and Lainey?
That’s awfully presumptuous. I could need the chef’s contact for a number of reasons that aren’t for a date.
Yeah. For tonight. Keep it quiet though.
Kos: I got you. You still stopping by today?
On my way now.
He reads the message, but I don’t get another text back from him, so I assume he’s heading to the ice.
I send a quick message over to Auriella, praying for a miracle that she’s available. I offer to pay her whatever she wants if she’s able to pull it off, within reason.
She responds only a couple of minutes later as we’re turning onto the arena’s street.
Auriella Chef: Hi! Thanks for reaching out. I actually had tonight’s session cancel late yesterday, so I might be able to make it work. How many in the party?
Just two.
Auriella Chef: Time? And meal requests?
6 or 7? Any appetizer. I’d love to have some kind of pasta for the entrée. And a dessert. Honestly, whatever you can make work on the short notice would be incredible.
Auriella Chef: Sounds great! Any allergies or food we want to avoid?
I text back and forth with her as we near the front of the rink before tucking my phone into my pocket, telling the driver I’ll be right back. I get out of his vehicle, using my crutches, and head inside the arena.
Security lets me in and greets me with a smile. “Good to see you, Mr. Donnelley.”
“Thanks, man. Happy to be stopping by. I wish I were here to do more, but baby steps … baby steps.”
“You’ll be back before you know it,” he says kindly, opening the locked second entrance door for me.
Slowly but surely, I make my way down to ice level. The noise of skates on the ice, sticks hitting pucks, and pucks bouncing off the boards sounds like painful music to my ears, but I missed it greatly nonetheless.
“Oh shit!” Costy shouts near the bench when he spots me approaching down the tunnel, and he skates over to the board.
The players catch on and join Costy as they hear of my arrival, and my heart warms from their support. I know we’re a team and a family, but seeing their love in action still hits me deep in my chest.
Coach Carrington greets me as I crutch into the bench. “Good to see you. How’re you feeling?”
“All right,” I answer honestly. “Just got done with the MRI. Doc said he’d have results sometime today and give everyone a call.”
“I look forward to it.” He gently pats my back. “We’ll get you back out here in no time, all right? Take care of yourself and recover well. And just because you’re injured doesn’t mean I don’t expect to see you here at practices, after a couple of days off.”
He smiles kindly at me, knowing there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
“I’ll be here.”
“Good. Now see the guys quick and then get the hell out. You’re interrupting my practice when you should be resting your knee.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” I two-finger salute him with a smirk before turning to the guys, who are waiting impatiently.
Matty pokes his stick into my stomach to get my attention.
The guys pepper me with questions and their well wishes before they begin trickling back onto the ice, leaving our core group behind. Kostelecky. Costello. Larinski. Burns. MacArthur. And me.
“Soooo …” Matty drags his word out, skating back and forth. “Is Lainey helping take care of you?”
“Oh, I bet she’s taking care of him all right.” Costy laughs, and I smack him with my crutch.
“Fuck off. Just because I’m on one leg doesn’t mean that I still can’t beat your ass.”
“You could try.” Costy smirks, egging me on.
I roll my eyes, knowing there’s no stopping when it comes to him riling me up.
“Are you going to tell us what’s going on with you guys or make us keep guessing?” Burnsy asks excitedly.
Leave it to Brett to pressure the details out of me. He’s such a sap. That’s why we were all so surprised that Piper, Assistant Coach Hartwell’s daughter, actually fell for him. Let’s just say, he wasn’t her usual type, but they sure found something magical together.
“I haven’t decided,” I respond vaguely.
Kos eyes me knowingly. “He asked for Auriella’s number.”
Larinski gasps with a smile. “The chef? For what, Jensen? Are you having us all over tonight? Kind of rude to throw a party when Kos is having the team dinner tomorrow.”
That reminds me; I need to tell Lainey about it and see if she wants to come with me.
“I’m going to kill you,” I say plainly, staring at Kos, who breaks out laughing, not caring for a second about my threat.
I’ve got to get this over with, or they’ll never let it go, and the last thing I want is these fuckers showing up at my place tonight and ruining dinner.
“If you show up at my house tonight, I will actually murder you all,” I threaten them and pause. “She’s cooking for Lainey and me tonight. And she’s staying at my place because her apartment flooded today.”
Matty chuckles. “That’s awfully convenient timing.”
“Or fate,” Brett adds, smiling.
“It’s not a big deal. It’s not the first time. When we were little—”
Costy cuts me off, “I might have already told them all today … that you guys knew each other when you were young.”
I roll my eyes again. Unbelievable. These guys are the worst gossipers in the world.
“I’m just hurt I didn’t find out first.” Matty pouts, and I jokingly shove him.
Coach clears his throat, basically telling me to hurry the hell up.
“I’ve got to get back though. She’ll be there soon with her suitcases.”
“Plural?” Matty smirks. “So, she’s moving in?”
“No.” Although I’m not mad at the thought of her never leaving.
“All right, boys, you can continue the interrogation later.” Coach saves me from their questioning.
“Should we interrogate you instead? How is it that you and your wife met again?” Matty—who has gotten a lot sassier as of late–asks with a maddening smirk.
Coach glares at him, deadpan. His wife is Brett’s older sister, and their relationship caused quite a stir when it surfaced. “I’ll bench you.”
We all burst out laughing, and the guys slowly skate back out onto the ice before I turn back down the tunnel and head back out to where my driveris waiting for me.
Lainey calls out for me from my bedroom upstairs. “Jensen!”
I look back at Auriella, and she nods, telling me that she’s ready for us.
“Ready when you are.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” I turn back to the staircase and shout, “Okay! You can come down!”
I sort of told her she had to stay in that room for the last hour while Auriella prepared our meal. To be fair, I kept Lainey company up until the last ten minutes.
“That smells so good,” she hums as she turns at the top of the staircase and descends toward me.
God, she is so beautiful. It doesn’t matter how many times I see her; I’m still in awe. Those hypnotizing eyes, those soft dimples on her cheeks when she deeply smiles—they are perfection.
She is perfection, every inch of her. Every blemish and scar, some of which I still need to know more about, particularly the one on her neck. But I’m patient, and I know that she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
Her gaze shifts to the kitchen as she steps into the big, open living space.
She whispers to me as she steps down onto the floor, “Who is that?” She pauses, squinting her eyes. “Did you get a chef?”
I chuckle at her sassy tone. “Yeah. Is that okay with you?”
She glares at me for a moment until those pretty blues soften. “Hi. I’m Lainey,” she introduces herself.
Auriella nods, her hands busy. “It’s great to meet you. I’m Auriella. If you guys want to have a seat, I’ll bring the appetizer out to you.”