Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JACE
Asmall splash of paint hits the ground as I lift the roller and press it against the wall. Soft music plays in the background and Willow hums along with it. A slow smile drifts across my lips as the sound wraps around my eardrums.
Rolling my wrist, I check the time on my watch, noting that I have about twenty minutes before I need to go meet with the realtor.
Willow’s back is to me and I pause for a moment.
She extends her arm above her head, her tank top drifting higher up her torso.
She presses onto her tiptoes, attempting to get as close to the ceiling as she can, but she can’t quite reach.
My eyes linger on the small of her back, on the way those two dimples form just above her ass. Her skin stretches across her ribs, her shirt lifting even higher. I let my gaze drift along her torso, up her arms, and to the wall where there’s a gap along the top that she can’t reach.
A chuckle rumbles in my throat and my footsteps are light as I pad across the drop cloth clad floor, stopping as I reach her.
I’m easily over a foot taller than her and I don’t straighten my arm as I reach for the roller.
“Here,” I say softly, my hands wrapping around the soft backs of hers, my fingers sliding into the spaces between hers as I hold the roller with her.
Without trying, I half cage her in with my arm and my body. “Let me get it.”
She inhales sharply, her eyebrows lifting just a fraction of an inch as her body stills.
She’s silent. No words, no breathing. And then I hear the soft exhale as she drops down flat onto her feet.
Willow turns her head, tilting her chin up as she looks at me from over her shoulder.
She wiggles her hands out from under mine, her body shifting as she spins around to face me.
Her back almost brushes the wet paint, but I snake my free arm around her back, pulling her closer to my body.
“Jace,” she breathes, her eyes wide, pupils dilated, as she clutches my biceps. “What are you doing?”
“You were about to touch the wall,” I murmur. All my focus settles on her soft pink lips. “The paint is still wet.”
Her plump lips part, the tip of her tongue swiping across her bottom lip.
“Right,” she says softly, her slender throat bobbing.
Her body is warm against my arm and hints of jasmine and vanilla infiltrate my senses.
My thoughts spin out of fucking control as the fronts of her thighs brush against mine.
If she leans any more of her body against me, she’ll feel just how affected I am right now.
“We don’t want to have to repaint it,” she says, as if I’m still worried about the paint.
“No, we don’t,” I agree, my eyes flitting back up to hers. “You have some paint,” I start, my voice catching in my throat as I lift my hand from her waist to her face. Her eyes are on mine as I brush my thumb against the smudge, just above her eyebrow. “Right here.”
A shallow breath escapes Willow and my hand lingers, my finger brushing over her soft skin. She’s silent—head tipped back, lips parted, eyes on mine. My gaze drifts to her mouth again, tracing the curve of her cupid’s bow and the way her lips touch just before she rakes her teeth across her flesh.
If I lower my head just a few inches, I can see how they feel against mine.
“I have to get going,” I say, my voice hoarse. I need to drag myself away from her before I end up doing something we’ll both regret. My hand falls from her face as I take a step away. “Don’t try to get to the spots you can’t reach. I’ll come back to do it.”
The space between her eyebrows momentarily creases. “I can use the step ladder.”
“I’m coming back later, Will. I’m just going to look at the rink with the realtor.”
She tilts her head to the side and she bites back a grin as she lifts her eyebrows. “I hope it goes well.”
My chest rises as I suck in a deep breath. “Me too.”
I do hope it’s a viable option for me and my future, because without it, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with my life. My aunt and uncle will be home soon enough and after that, I have nothing. I have no purpose.
Without hockey, I don’t know who I am and I have no other option than to figure it out. If I buy the rink, I hope it gives me some sense of direction in life. I’ve already failed the one thing I gave my entire life for, and I can’t do that again.
I refuse to let anyone watch me fail again—especially Willow Alder, the girl who has always believed in me.
The cold air of the rink washes over me like a cloak of familiarity as I stand in the doorway.
The place looks exactly like I remember, without a single banner missing.
After spending the greater part of my life inside an ice rink, it’s been a strange experience being away from one for the last few weeks.
I needed this.
My chest expands as I inhale deeply, the frigid air filling my lungs. The smell, the feel—it’s like a breath of fresh air. It calms my nervous system without me even realizing it. A frown tugs at my lips as I glance down at the betrayal beneath my jeans.
It’s such a mind fuck, feeling like I’m strong enough to do whatever I want, but knowing that my ankle will never withstand the intensity of playing hockey professionally again. The aching only seems to come if I’m on my feet all day or when it rains.
“Are you coming?”
I lift my gaze to the realtor, Sarah, who’s showing me the place. She grew up in the Hollow, although she was a few years younger than me, so the two of us didn’t really know one another.
“Yes,” I say, nodding. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” she says with a smile as she waves her hand dismissively.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the place, so feel free to walk around and check it out.
Surprisingly, the place is in decent condition.
I have the paperwork that lists some things that do need to be taken care of, but I can assure you, it’s not an extensive or expensive list.”
“Okay,” I dip my chin at her, turning back around to look out at the sheet of ice on the other sides of the boards and glass.
It’s not a facility, like some places. Instead, it’s a modest ice rink with a single sheet, a row of locker rooms, stands above it, and a small warm room with a snack bar next to the skate rental counter.
Sarah heads into the warm room, leaving me alone to explore.
My feet carry me over to the glass and I run my fingers along the boards as I start to walk towards the locker rooms. The ice is in shitty condition and most likely hasn’t been resurfaced in years.
The flooring can use some work. The whole place is a bit run down and could use an entire refresh, but it has bones. Good bones.
I make my way through the locker rooms and the rest of the building, making a mental checklist of the things I see that can use some work before heading into the warm room to meet back up with Sarah.
As I step inside, I notice the temperature isn’t much different than out in the rink.
Is the heat off or does it just not work?
Sarah stands up from one of the tables and hands me a paper with a list typed on it.
“Here are the things that need work, aside from cosmetics. The HVAC system is in working order. But the roof does need to be replaced and there are some pipes that also need repaired for the toilets to be working. If you’re interested in purchasing, we can also ask the sellers to cover the costs of the repairs or reduce the price. ”
Holding the paper, my eyes run through the list. It’s not as bad as it could be and, luckily for me, I’m in a financial position where I can afford to invest in something like this.
Not to mention my past construction experience and my family’s business.
It won’t be hard to get the work done, and I could even do some myself.
“What is the asking price?”
Sarah tells me the price as I chew on the inside of my cheek and look back through the window to the sheet of ice. The price isn’t an issue, and the work and repairs are completely manageable. My best friend, Harrison, wants to go in as partners, if I feel like this is a good move.
And there’s only one thing that makes me question it all.
What if I fail again?
“Are there any other interested buyers?”
Sarah purses her lips as I look back at her. “There are two different developers I’m scheduled to meet with next week. If this is something you’re interested in, I don’t suggest waiting, honestly.”
My throat bobs as I swallow hard. Is this the part where I’m supposed to make an executive decision?
Harrison may have agreed, but I don’t feel right saying yes without talking to him first. I don’t know the first thing about running a business.
I need Harrison in on this. He has the business and coaching experience we would need to get something up and running here.
“Can you give me an hour and I’ll have an answer?”
“Of course,” she says with a smile as she walks to the door and holds it open. “You have my number, so just give me a call.”
“I will.”
I wait until we’re both outside and in our respective vehicles before I call Harrison. I put the call on speaker, and set my phone down on the center console before I even turn on the truck. He answers on the second ring.
“So, am I quitting my job and coming to open a hockey program with you?”
I blow out a breath, shaking my head as my eyelids fall shut and I tilt my head back against the seat. “I don’t know, man. It’s not a bad deal. It doesn’t need any extensive work.” I pause, lifting my head as I look back at the screen. “Do you want to come look at it?”
“Nope, I trust your judgement,” he says. “I don’t think you’d want to do it if it would put either of us in a bad position.” He clears his throat. “What does it need to have done?”
I give him the run down, reading off the sheet of paper Sarah gave me and the additional things I saw that needed to be redone. After running through the whole list, I throw in the price at the end. Harrison falls quiet and after a minute of silence, I think he may have hung up.
“Are you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry I was just thinking and estimating numbers.” He pauses. “The price isn’t bad and gives us a decent budget for upgrades and repairs. You do know this most likely won’t be profitable for some time, right?”
“I do,” I say, nodding, even though he can’t see me. “But I also think this place has a lot of potential.”
“You said it’s only one sheet of ice, correct?”
“Yeah. There’s room to change things around inside the building, but we’re limited to only one sheet, which I honestly think was part of the downfall of the rink in the first place.”
“Was it that or the lack of draw to bring in business?” Harrison falls silent for a moment.
“What do you think of making it more of a training facility instead of starting an entire organization? We could have clinics, lessons, you name it. Learn to play, learn to skate. I’m sure there’s someone we could bring in for the figure skating side of things.
It would be more for development that could really draw in business from outside of town. ”
Pulling my cheek between my teeth, I chew on it as I mull over his words. It’s not even an idea that I had thought about, but it would work. It would be a much easier sell and easier to manage instead of a whole organization with teams for different age groups.
“You’re brilliant, Harrison.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “I know, I know. That’s really what I’m here for.”
Rolling my eyes, I let out a laugh. As the laughter dies off, an anxious feeling rolls in the pit of my stomach and my chest tightens. “Are we really gonna do this?”
“What’s holding you back, Miller?”
Sliding my key into the ignition, I turn it over and the truck engine roars to life. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if we invest all this time and money and it doesn’t fucking work?”
“Hm,” he hums. “But what if it does? Honestly, I think I need something more fulfilling. More purposeful.” He pauses for a beat. “If you’re in, I’m in.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah,” he says loudly. “Let’s do it.”
Rolling my lips between my teeth, I bite down on them, blowing a breath through my nostrils as I shake my head in momentary disbelief. This is a gamble and as much as I love taking risks, this feels like the biggest jump of my life. Bigger than chasing after my dreams of playing professionally.
“I’ll call the realtor,” I say, the words falling from my lips in a rush, like if I don’t get them out now, I may never go through with it.
“And I’ll hand in my resignation letter.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? You know this could be an epic failure.”
“Well, I guess we can’t let it fail then,” he says with a soft laugh. “You and I—we’re not the kind of people who fail. We’re not the kind of people who let things beat us down and not rise above it all. This might be hard or it might not be. Either way, we won’t fail. I know it.”
I run my tongue over my top teeth. “We must have two vastly different ideas of what failure is.”
“Are you calling yourself a failure?” he asks, his voice dipping lower. “Because of your injury and having to retire early? You made it further than a huge percentage of people who play hockey will ever go. If you call yourself a failure, what does that make me? I never played pro.”
The color drains from my face. I can hear the offense lingering in his voice. “That’s not what I meant, Har. Not at all.”
“Then stop talking and thinking like that. Life is what you make it, so make the best of it.” He clears his throat and lets out a deep breath. “I gotta go, but call the realtor and let me know what’s going on, and what you need from me.”
I don’t know that I believe quite like he does, but if I don’t take the chance, what else do I have?
“All right. Let’s do it.”
And at this point, I’m not so sure I have much left to lose.