Chapter 5
five
. . .
Rachel
I shouldn’t be here.
When Jake sent me the tickets, I almost said no. How can he expect me to get to the arena on no notice? I need, like, a solid three to four days to prep for being social.
But when faced with the idea of staying alone in his apartment all evening…
So I pulled on my big-girl pants and left the apartment, meeting up with my friend Viv. She’s a rugby player on Boston’s pro team and has gone to the Olympics twice with the national team. She is also bitterly sarcastic and totally outgoing, which is what I need right about now.
“So tell me about the guy,” Viv says as we walk to our seats. We’ve been to games with our friend Ceci before, we’ve shared a box with other people, but we’ve never been to a suite .
“He’s my ex’s kid brother,” I explain.
She rolls her eyes. “Okay, I mean, is he hot, is he single…?”
“Oh. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if he’s hot?”
My face heats. “He’s a child.”
Viv stops in her tracks. “What?”
“He’s, like, twenty-six.”
“That’s not a child. So you definitely wouldn’t be robbing the cradle,” she decides, already determining that I’m into him.
Which I am. Or maybe I’m not. I don’t know.
“He’s a baby,” I insist, although I don’t really know why I’m pushing the point. The five years between us are almost a lifetime. He may be a professional hockey player, but he’s probably still an immature, overgrown frat boy athlete living the high life. There’s no way—it’s totally inappropriate.
And there’s that word again . Why am I so worried about what is appropriate and what’s not? Since when do I care about the optics of everything?
“You don’t have to marry the guy. He can still be a fun rebound,” Viv suggests. She sighs. “After the douchebag…”
“I’ve been calling him fuckface,” I admit.
“Fine. After what fuckface did, you deserve a little lighthearted fun,” she says. “You’re living with a professional hockey player now. He sent you a ticket to the game. He obviously wants you here.”
“He’s just being nice.”
She rolls her eyes. “Nice would have been nosebleed seats. He didn’t have to invite you out after the game. He could have just said, see you at home, roomie. ”
That doesn’t sit right with me.
“He’s only doing this because our moms are friends.”
Viv shrugs. “Whatever his reasoning, he’s doing it. Might as well make the most of the opportunity.”
Humming, I follow her into the suite. There are close to a dozen other women in here, each one glammed up and looking fierce in bedazzled Boston Grizzlies jerseys. Heads swivel toward us as we enter.
A blonde woman with a baby bump approaches us. “Hi, I’m Melanie Easton. My husband is Mark, the second line center. Who are you here with?”
“I’m a friend of Jake’s. Lewis,” I struggle to get the words out. “He invited us.”
Two women in the back of the suite exchange looks.
“We love Jake,” another blonde says, coming over to join us. “I’m Hailey MacGregor. My brother Aidan says he’s a great guy.”
“Oh, we’re not—I’m not?—”
“If you say so.” Hailey smiles gently. “Typically, it’s just family up here. Jake must really care for you.”
I’m introduced to the other women. Three are wives, two are fiancées, one more is a sister, and there’s a mom, too. There are no girlfriends. Huh. I wonder what it means that Jake invited me up here.
Hailey looks to be about Jake’s age. She leads us to the back of the suite, where there’s a buffet set up and a bucket of chilled drinks. I hand a bottle of water to Viv, who doesn’t drink, and grab a hard seltzer for myself.
When Jake said he played for the Grizzlies, my dumb ass thought he was, like, a back-up third-string forward, someone who gets called up when they need a warm body. Even a warm body in the NHL is an amazing achievement.
But when I see number 1 Lewis take up a stance in front of the goal…
“I think I’m in trouble,” I tell Viv.
“What’s wrong?”
Nodding to Jake, I explain, “He’s a goaltender.”
“And?”
“And that’s fucking hot,” I whisper. “He’s the caretaker of the team. He carries them on his back every night.”
I bet he’d take care of me all night long. Repeatedly.
“And that’s a bad thing because…”
“Because I can’t sleep with him.”
Her eyebrows go up. “But you want to?”
Rolling my eyes, I pull out my phone and flip to his Instagram page. “Look at him.”
The first photo, he’s wearing his jersey and a blue and white Santa hat, pushing a giant shopping cart filled with toys.
The second photo?
Jake is shirtless, his bulging arms crossed over his broad chest, and the cheesiest grin on his face.
“Okay, yeah, I can see what you mean,” Viv says. “I didn’t think you were interested in meatheads.”
“He’s not a meathead,” I defend.
Viv waves the phone. “By definition, a meathead. Trust me, I’d know.”
She’s the oldest of six siblings, five of whom are professional athletes. Including her.
“He’s completely different than Erik. Physically, that is.” She squints at the phone. “Is his chest waxed?”
“I’m sure it’s just shaved,” I mutter.
“He’s definitely wearing body oil,” she continues. “He’s gorgeous. Fuck, if you don’t go after him, I will.”
“I’m not going after him. He’s giving me a place to stay.”
“Yeah, and you can give his cock a place to stay.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Gross.”
“Seriously, Rach.” Viv sets her hand on my arm. “You deserve a little casual fun with a nice guy. It doesn’t have to be with this dude. It doesn’t have to be forever. It can just be a little bit of fun for now.”
“I dated his brother,” I remind her.
“Yeah. When you were in high school. That doesn’t count,” she retorts.
Glancing around us, I lower my voice. “I slept with his brother.”
“Was it good?”
I shrug. “I mean, it was both of our first time. It… he wasn’t great .” We were having sex as often as possible for two teenagers who lived at home for maybe six months before we ended things. It didn’t get much better. It wasn’t until college that I realized what sex was supposed to be like.
I guess it was too much to expect Josh to suddenly be devoted and doting in bed. Then again, he was kind of a dick out of bed, too.
“Then let the kid brother show up the older brother.” Viv smirks.
I wince. “And let him brag about me to Josh? Gross.”
She shrugs. “So don’t go for it. Let someone else snap him up.”
“He’s not a cookie at a dessert bar.”
“No,” Viv agrees. “He’s the entire buffet, ready for your taking.”