Chapter 14
fourteen
. . .
Jake
When Rachel walks out of her bedroom, my jaw hits the floor.
“Holy fuck.”
Her cheeks flush. “Should I change?”
Rising from the couch, I make my way over to her. I take her hand and brush my thumb over the back of her knuckles. “No. Never change.”
After MacGregor’s jawing about the party, I decided to treat her right. Larsson gave me the name of the boutique where he buys Vanessa presents and I had a dress and shoes delivered. I wanted to suggest she get her hair and makeup done after her nail appointment, too, but I didn’t want to overstep. I don’t want to change her or dress her up like a doll. I just want her to feel good in her skin.
At least Hailey convinced her to get a massage after their nails. She deserves to be pampered.
She deserves the world.
And looking at her now, wearing a floor-length sequined gown with a deep dip in the front, clinging in all the right places, her hair done and her makeup emphasizing her features…
She takes my breath away.
I swallow hard.
“You look… amazing,” I manage around the lump in my throat.
Rachel looks away, and my finger on her chin forces her eyes up to meet mine.
“You look amazing,” I repeat. “I’m torn between staying here all night and taking you out on the town and showing you off.”
“It’s just… hair. And makeup.” She waves a hand. “It’s nothing.”
Do I like her done up? Yeah.
I also like her fresh-faced, no makeup, wearing old, worn sweatpants and my t-shirt. I like her wearing her blazers and blouses for work. I like her naked and sweaty in my bed.
Basically, I just like her. The hair and makeup is just gift wrap on top of the present.
She brushes some invisible lint off my shoulder. “I like the suit.”
I’ve chosen a dark, navy blue suit with a blue and white checked shirt and a dark yellow tie. I wear suits all the time—every time I head to the arena, it’s a suit, required by the league. I was never a clothes-hound until I got into the league. Then it seemed like all the guys were into suits and fashion, fast cars, and golf. I still have no interest in golf. Two out of the three ain’t bad.
Tonight, I’ve put thought into my outfit, coordinating with her navy blue sequined dress. I want us to look like two pieces of a matching set rather than two people haphazardly thrown together. Like it or not, she owns me. And I like it. I like it a lot.
We make our way down to the garage and I open the door for her. Before, I was hesitant about touching her, too nervous about upsetting her or making her uncomfortable.
Now, though, my hand sits on her knee like it belongs there.
She tells me about her day, about seeing Van and getting to know Hailey better. She even suggested Hailey join their book club. I’m glad she’s getting along with my friends.
Sometimes I think it’s a little weird that MacGregor brings Hailey along to events where he would otherwise need a date. He doesn’t date at all.
But when I think about them losing their parents young and how he basically raised her, plus her medical fragility, it makes sense that he wants to keep her close. They’re best friends, peas in a pod.
It’s still weird that she’s here as his date, though.
The steakhouse’s back room is decked out in Christmas decor. Easton gives me an up-nod as I enter the room, and to my surprise, Melanie greets Rachel with a warm hug. I hadn’t realized they’d gotten so close after the game the other night.
I feel like a million bucks with her on my arm tonight. She’s the most gorgeous woman in the room.
We stop at the bar for a drink—she opts for water, so I do, too—and make a lap of the room. Almost all of the guys have brought a date. A few of the young rookies, like Henry and Jenkins, have wide-eyed expressions like they can’t believe they’re here.
The team throws these big parties all the time. There’s the start of season banquet, the Halloween party, the Thanksgiving family feast, the holiday party… there will be a New Year’s Eve bash, too, plus a big party before the All Star break.
It’s a lot .
Rachel keeps to my side, letting me hold her hand or put my hand on the small of her back as we mingle and chat. She brightens when we reach Larsson and Vanessa, a genuine smile on her face.
He’s my roommate on the road, my buddy and my teammate, but we don’t hang out much outside of work. I have a feeling that’s about to change. I want to make her feel like she’s part of my life because if I have my way, she will be.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Van asks. “There’s a craft fair in Marblehead I was thinking of checking out.
Rachel hums. “I’m heading to New Hampshire for the weekend.”
My eyebrows go up. “You are?” I thought we decided she would stay here.
She shrugs. “I have two weeks off of work, but I don’t really want to stay the whole time. About seventy-two hours in my hometown is all I can handle.”
“I thought your mom was coming down.” I shove my hand into my pocket to hide the tremor. Why am I shaking?
“Just for a bit.” Rachel lifts her shoulder easily. “I need to get back to looking for an apartment.”
My jaw clenches as I try not to grit my teeth. “You’re staying with me.”
“Yeah, for now,” she says with a laugh. “I can’t stay there forever.”
“Why not?” Holy fuck, I sound like a petulant child, whining about getting his favorite toy yanked away.
Rachel’s eyes dart to Sven and Vanessa. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this here.”
I clear my throat. “Excuse us.”
Grabbing her hand, I pull her into an alcove. Hidden by the shadows, I feel comfortable enough to bare my soul.
“I told you I want you to stay with me,” I tell her.
“And I said I would,” Rachel says. She sets her jaw. “What’s going on with you?”
“I want you. I want us. I thought I was clear about that.”
“And I thought I was clear that I’m not ready for that.” Her lip trembles. “Look, I like you. I do.”
“But…” My stomach falls.
“But I just got out of a serious, long-term relationship where he treated me like shit for most of that time,” Rachel says. “I’m not in a headspace where I can dive into something new. I don’t want you to be a rebound.”
“You can use me as a rebound. That’s fine. I don’t care,” I lie.
She shakes her head, cupping my face. “ I care. I can’t do that to you.”
“So the last two weeks, our snow days…” Coming home to her every night, spending each evening together, fucking and then sleeping together… it’s been incredibly intimate. I’ve never let someone into my life the way I have with her.
“It’s been great. But it can’t last,” Rachel says. “It’s not real life.”
“It can be whatever we want it to be.” I feel like I’m grasping at straws, desperately trying to hold onto someone determined to slip through my fingers.
She gives a hollow laugh. “Girls like me don’t end up with guys like you.”
“What do you mean?” Giving into the urge, I pull her into my arms. “Girls way out of my league?”
“Jake. You’re a hockey player.”
“So?” Does my being an athlete turn her off?
“So you can get all the women you want. You don’t want a fat, frumpy physicist when you could?—”
“I want you ,” I tell her firmly. “I could tell you until I’m blue in the face that I like the way you look and the way you dress. I love that you went after what you want until you got your Ph.D. I am so incredibly proud of you for achieving that.”
She swallows.
“I’ve always been interested in you. Why do you think I offered you the room?”
“Because…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
“Like you said, I’m a professional athlete. I don’t need a roommate.”
Rachel looks away.
“I want to share my space with you. I want you to be there. I want you to be part of my life.” I tip her chin up. “I want you. Whatever you can give me. If all we have is a brief moment in time before you move on, I still want it.”
I can find a way to be happy with the scraps she can give. I’d rather have whatever she can offer than nothing at all.
“You’ll get tired of me,” she says. “I’m boring. I don’t?—”
“You’re not boring,” I interrupt.
She laughs. “You don’t even know me. Not really.”
“Okay. So tell me what I need to know.”
“I’m a stay-at-home type person. I don’t like to go out to bars and clubs.”
“Cool. Neither do I.”
Rachel laughs again. “You took me to a bar after your game.”
“Because you were a guest, and that’s what we do with guests.” I shrug. “Easton doesn’t go to the bars. MacGregor, almost never. I wanted you to have the VIP hockey experience. No skin off my back if we don’t go again.”
She opens her mouth.
“I want to spend time with you. That doesn’t mean I don’t have other interests or friends,” I tell her. “I spend plenty of time with the guys on the road and at practice. We hang out all the time. When it’s all over? I want to come home to you.”