Chapter Twenty-One
JENNA
“I’m part delighted, part fearful that as of next season, you will be my boss.” Kendra’s ambivalence is reflected on her face when she takes a sip of soda and leans against the pool table.
We’ve been out for several hours, and I’ve lost count of how many drinks I’ve had. Still, I’m pretty much in control of my senses, if not a little wobbly on my legs.
I miss in spectacular fashion, not even coming close to sinking the ball, and I drop my head down against the green felt lining the top of the table.
If Kendra hadn’t made it as a pro soccer player, I’m sure she could’ve made a living from this sport instead. She’s been kicking my ass for the past fifteen minutes.
“You look like you could use a little help there.”
A deep voice I don’t recognize speaks from behind me, and I look up to find my best friend already on her way to the restroom. I haven’t taken in the source of the voice, but judging by the way Kendra just made herself scarce, I’m guessing whoever is standing behind me is hot.
Goose bumps shimmer down my arms, fired off by a mixture of excitement and dread.
I want to have fun with guys, just like I’ve always done.
Although I can’t deny the shift inside me, and I know that my reluctance to hook up is down to the bad-boy hockey player I shouldn’t be thinking about at all, let alone right now.
With the pool cue still in my hand, I slowly rise from the table and turn to face the owner of the deep, flirtatious voice.
Ugh.
He’s just my type. I’d pin him as a similar age to me, with a sweet and sexy smile that reaches his ears. Floppy, dark hair contrasts with his bright blue eyes, and while he isn’t tattooed, he is broad and tall—at least six feet.
He takes in my outfit, his eyes ascending from my knee-high black boots to my dark blue jeans before finally landing on my crisp white button-down blouse that is partially open and skimming the top of my cleavage.
I look hot tonight; I can’t deny it. I applied a touch of makeup in the taxi but left my hair to air-dry naturally since I’m one of those lucky people who likes their hair when I don’t bother to style it. I rarely need to use straightening irons.
“You’re Jenna Miller, right?”
His confident question shocks me. I don’t think any stranger has ever instantly recognized me like I’m some kind of celebrity.
I look off to the side and bite my bottom lip. “That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”
He smiles wider. “Knowing your name is presumptuous?”
I shake my head and switch the cue from one hand to the other, leaning my ass against the pool table behind me. I feel like I’m failing miserably at flirting.
“No. It’s presumptuous to think that I’d confirm my identity to a strange man.”
Taking a small step toward me, he seems to appreciate my response and respects my boundaries, and I feel my shoulders relax a little as a result.
“I watched your game earlier,” he confirms, taking another tentative step so I can smell his cologne.
It’s strong and spicy, and he’s wearing way too much.
“I know I’m not exactly famous, but I used to play semi-pro soccer in England before I ruptured my ACL and came out of the sport altogether.
That save you pulled off today was legendary. ”
He has a soft Southern accent that I usually adore, but it’s not really his voice I’m hearing, and that frustrates the shit out of me. If it wouldn’t make me look like the biggest weirdo, I’d slap myself across the face to break from my Tommy Schneider thoughts.
He motions to the cue I’m holding. “I’m also pretty good at pool if you want me to give you some pointers?”
“Learning how to play pool is not high up on my priority list.”
The nameless guy scrubs a rough hand across his mouth. “You can just tell me to fuck off if you’d like.”
It’s my perfect opportunity to break free and head home for the night or at least make an escape to the bar for another drink.
But for what purpose? And why should I? The Jenna from a few weeks ago wouldn’t have hesitated to flirt like crazy with this guy, who is obviously into me.
Sure, he might’ve gone a little heavy on the cologne, but he’s at least being inventive with trying to pick me up.
Most men have already promised the world in bed by now and given me the full ick.
For a brief second, I let my gaze rove the length of his body. He, too, is wearing a white shirt and blue jeans.
“We match,” I tell him, pointing to my own outfit.
My observation must spur him on because he moves closer to me—one more inch, and he’ll be pressing into my body.
I fight the urge to step back, even though I couldn’t with the pool table set right behind me.
“My name’s Ethan. Nice to meet you, Jenna.”
The wobbly legs I had earlier in the night would collapse underneath me if it wasn’t for Ethan’s strong arm holding me up.
The last thing I can remember is Kendra leaving to head home hours ago and then Ethan guiding me to the bar. The rest is history.
“I’m supposed to be a pro athlete,” I slur out into the night sky as Ethan continues walking us both back to my place. At least, I think that’s where he’s taking us. I gave him my address and handed him the key to my apartment.
When we turn a corner, my apartment building comes into view, and I heave a sigh of relief. I should recognize these streets, but everything about this night has passed by in a blur.
“I wasn’t supposed to get this drunk,” I tell Ethan when he holds on to me with one arm and uses the fob attached to my key ring to enter the building.
“We’ll take the elevator,” he confirms, hitting the button and falling back into an awkward silence.
This guy was full of talk earlier tonight, helping me refine my pool skills and laughing at everything I had to say.
“You bought me waaaaay too many drinks.” I chuckle and then burp as we enter the elevator, and I squint against the bright lights overhead. “I never drink this much.”
Ethan remains silent, and for the first time tonight, I feel less than safe in his presence. He has ahold of my bag, which means I can’t make use of the pepper spray Holt got me as a stocking stuffer one Christmas.
The elevator pings, and the doors slide open onto my floor.
“I think I have it from here,” I say, summoning my soberest voice and attempting to pull away from his grasp.
He doesn’t let me go, instead walking us out of the elevator and coming to an abrupt halt that has me almost tumbling to the floor.
“I said … I can take it from here. Thank you for walking me home, Ethan.”
My heart sinks when he still doesn’t release his hold on me, and suddenly, I’m fearing the worst. If he was concerned about me getting home safely, then he already made sure of that. So, what other reason does he have to keep hold of me?
A rush of adrenaline surges through me, fight-or-flight instincts kicking in and cutting through my alcohol-fueled haze. It’s still not enough for me to break free from this guy I barely know.
You were a fucking idiot to leave with him, Jenna. You should’ve gone home with Kendra.
“She asked you to let go of her, Ethan. Twice.”
At the sound of Tommy’s voice, my head shoots up from where my eyes were trained on the floor.
Dressed in all black and with a hot-as-fuck black baseball cap turned backward, Tommy pushes off my doorjamb and stalks toward us.
“Holy shit …” Ethan announces. “Y-you’re Tommy Schneider, the Blades defenseman.”
Tommy doesn’t even bother to acknowledge Ethan, and I know exactly what’s coming, even before the crack of Tommy’s knuckles against Ethan’s nose rings in my ears.
“What were you planning to do with my girl once you got her back to her apartment?!” Tommy bites out.
My hazy brain tries to piece his sentence together.
Wait … did he just refer to me as—
“Jesus fucking Christ, I think you broke my nose!” Ethan interrupts my slow thoughts, blood dripping from his hand to the floor as he tries to stem the flow.
With one firm hand to his chest, Tommy pushes him back into the far wall, leaving Ethan with no escape.
“It’s okay, Tommy.” I quickly soothe, stumbling toward them both. “It’s okay,” I repeat, placing a hand on his shoulder as he towers over Ethan with a murderous expression that has me convinced he’s about to commit a felony.
At the touch of my palm, his shoulders drop an inch, although it isn’t enough to calm him entirely.
“When a girl tells you to let her go, that’s exactly what you do. There’s a difference between playing around and trying to take advantage of someone who’s intoxicated.”
Ethan’s eyes grow wide, and I expect him to deny any malicious intent toward me. I didn’t pick up on any dangerous vibes from this guy, I’m normally hot on that shit.
“We’d been flirting all night, and Jenna wanted me just as much as I did her. I had no idea she had a boyfriend.”
His words shock me, a cold reality punching me right in the gut.
He planned to try and fuck me—or at least press for more.
I didn’t even kiss this guy, and while I would describe my behavior as very friendly, it wasn’t especially flirtatious since the guy dressed in black and pinning Ethan against the wall was all I could think about all night.
I’ve zero idea what the time is, but I’m sure my neighbors are sleeping. It’s just as well since the growl that Tommy releases is enough to shake the building at its foundation.
“It doesn’t matter what she told you earlier in the night. She clearly changed her mind. If I hadn’t been here, waiting for her to come home, then …” Tommy pulls a deep breath into his lungs, his voice shaking. “Then fuck knows what you would’ve done?!”
He rears his fist back again, and I squeeze his shoulder, reassuring him that I’m okay.
“Just let him go, Tommy.” I look at Ethan then, narrowing my eyes in warning. “Ethan isn’t going to speak a word about this or ever return to my apartment. Are you?”
Without any hesitation, he shakes his head quickly while still pinching the bridge of his bloody nose. “Nothing. You have my word on that.”
I still can’t be sure of what Ethan planned to do once we got to the other side of my apartment door; all I know is that, for once, I’ve never been so relieved to see Tommy’s face.
And as that realization sinks in, another feeling hits me immediately after.
Safety.
The kind of security only my brother has ever brought me. When Holt was around, I knew everything would be okay. And right now, I can’t deny that same reassurance as it radiates from Tommy and wraps around me in the kind of hug Archer, Sawyer, and Jack always give their girls.
“Go home, take a cold shower, and think about how you can continue your sorry life with more dignity and respect.” Tommy releases Ethan, who instantly slips out from underneath his arm and heads straight for the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.
It must be ten seconds before we hear the main building door slam shut behind Ethan and another couple of beats before Tommy finally turns to look at me, red staining his left knuckles.
I keep my eyes down on his hands, wrapping my arms around my middle to comfort myself. Tears bleed from my eyes as I squeeze them shut and fight my emotions down with everything I have.
“Look at me, Jenna.”
I shake my head, embarrassment and shame curling inside my stomach. I feel sick, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol. “Just go, Tommy. Thank you for tonight, but please, just go.”
When he turns his back on me and makes for the stairs, I realize he isn’t going to fight me tonight. He’s practicing what he just preached to Ethan a few minutes earlier and respecting my boundaries.
But instead of the relief that washed through me when Ethan disappeared, panic is all I can feel as the distance between us increases.
When his foot hits the third step, I’m powerless to prevent my plea. “Wait.”
Tommy stops in his tracks but keeps his back to me, both hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans.
“What do you want from me, Jenna?”
If I didn’t know it was Tommy speaking, I wouldn’t recognize his voice. It sounds broken and weak. A little like my resolve to keep away from him.
Wrapping my arms tighter around my middle, I rock back on my heels. Another tear hits my cheek, sliding down to my chin.
“I-I … I don’t know what to say to you.” And it’s the truth; I don’t. All I know is, I don’t want him to take another step away.
Tommy releases long, slow breaths, turning his face slightly so I can see the tension in his jaw.
“If you want me to stay with you tonight, then I’m going to need you to tell me that. You’re drunk, and ordinarily, you hate my guts. Plus, the last time I was here, you threatened to call the police on me.”
The tension between us is so thick. Regardless, I’m tempted to laugh at the memory of him bursting into my apartment and volleying back and forth with me.
Tommy might be brutal in the way that he goes after what he wants, but he has never made me feel like Ethan just did. There’s good in the boy standing in front of me.
“Okay, well, I can’t stay here all night, waiting on your response. I have to head for an away series tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep.” He huffs out a laugh. “I’ll need all the energy I can get to warm the bench.”
As he takes another step away, unease kicks up my heart rate.
“Stay.”
Tommy immediately turns around to face me, deep brown eyes falling to my protective and vulnerable stance. “And what do you want from me if I do?”
I swallow thickly, arms dropping to my sides as I ball my hands into fists. My nails cut into fleshy palms while I battle to push out words I never thought I’d say to the boy standing in front of me, “I … I just want you next to me.”