3. RAE
3
I follow the plane outside my office window that’s about to land on the strip of Los Angeles International Airport, my face instantly tensing at the sight of it, a habit I can’t seem to shake.
I swallow hard, pressing my lips together as my arms tighten around my body until the landing gear touches the ground and the plane slows to a safe speed. A relieved breath leaves my lips, my spine relaxing.
It took me months in this office until I was able to watch the planes. Six months before I could sit at this solid mahogany desk and do my job without being distracted, holding my breath in horror every time a plane flew over the building.
I kept waiting for the ear deafening sounds of a crash to confirm my fear. But after a while, the fear passed, and I’d catch myself watching them every now and then. Facing my fear from a safe distance.
A knock taps on the door as I turn back around. “Come in!”
A beautiful brunette with big blue eyes peeks her head through the crack of the door with a smile before she pushes it open.
“Good morning!” Penelope holds a Knights cup in front of me, the liquid inside still steaming, and I gratefully take it from her hands as a scent of cinnamon greets me.
“Tea?”
“Ginger, with a bit of pumpkin spice. Just how you like it.” Her smile is wide, clearly excited to take over my job.
I let my eyes curiously trail down her appearance, a sheer difference from my jeans and white v-neck.
Her brown hair is perfectly styled, her dark blue pantsuit is impeccable, and her nails seem fresh from the salon. She definitely looks a lot more prepared than I did when I sauntered into this building for the first time with my white Converse sneakers still covered in North Carolina dirt.
“You look great,” I tell her, letting a sip of the hot liquid warm my insides.
“Thank you! I’m excited to get started.”
“Yeah, are you ready to sign your life away?” My gaze locks with hers over the rim of my cup.
I’m joking, but part of it is true. Working as a PR Specialist barely gives you room to have a life. Christmas, your birthday, 4th of July, it doesn’t matter; you have to be able to jump up and fix anything media related within the hour.
It’s thrilling, and exactly the kind of distraction I needed, but it’s also a huge responsibility.
“I’m ready!” She claps like a seal on crack, and I shoot her a dull look, my eyebrows high.
I wonder if she’s still this excited in six months when she realizes this isn’t just posting on social media while watching the game.
Hockey players may be rough and tough on the ice, but they are damn drama queens when it comes to their personal lives. Either they are screwing around when they shouldn’t be, pissing off their wives, or getting into bar fights.
And yes, I’m being completely biased and judgmental because of my lying and cheating ex-boyfriend.
Really, they aren’t all as vile as Sean Kent.
With a deep sigh, I pull out the big folder that has all the information she needs, landing it with a big thud on my desk.
Her desk, soon to be.
I tell her who to watch out for, offer her tips to keep each member of the team in line as much as she can, and give her the files I made for all of them.
When we are finally done, she wishes me luck, and I assure her she can call me if she needs anything before she walks out and my uncle saunters in.
“Hey, kid, you ready?” Johnny closes the door behind him as he enters.
Wearing dark jeans and a polo, I quirk up one brow in suspicion at his sudden declaration of Casual Monday.
“What are you up to?” I twist my body to face him, resting my back against the window.
“What are you talking about?” A coy smile forms when he takes the seat in front of the desk and loosens his tie. He carelessly places his right leg over the left and leans back like he’s ready for the weekend, even though it’s only noon on the first day of the week.
“In the five years I’ve worked here, you’ve never been dressed in jeans.” My eyes rake up and down his body before they darken to a glare. “You better not be planning to fucking hop on my road trip.”
“Five days in a car?” he scoffs. “As much as I love you, I’m not ever spending five days in a car. I didn’t become a millionaire to enjoy less comfort.”
“Then, what?”
“Nothing,” he blurts, too quickly for me to believe him, his neck flashing a slight red.
“Oh my God. Do you have a date?”
“No.”
Again, the look on his face lacks credibility, like a toddler being caught red-handed with his little paws in the cookie jar. I hold his gaze, pursing my lips as I wait for a better answer than that.
“Maybe,” he replies, drawing a long breath. “It’s just a lunch date.”
“With who?” I titter in excitement.
Johnny never has serious relationships, and even though part of me believes he’ll be the forever bachelor of the NHL, I wish him a partner in life. A love that matches the one my Nana had with my grandfather.
“I already said too much.”
“Johnny!” I screech, adamant. “It’s me! Share!”
He steadfastly shakes his head. “I’ll tell you on Friday if it’s worth talking about.”
I hold still, narrowing my gaze, before I crack a grin and roll my eyes. “Fine,” I mutter.
If someone would have told me five years ago that this was going to be my life, I would’ve laughed my ass off. My LA job was always drama and stress, but I liked the responsibility that came with it. Always ready to make sure everyone and everything involved with the LA Knights was always exposed and represented in the right way. Pulling it off every single time was both addictive and thrilling, like balancing on a skyscraper, never knowing when you’d crash, and part of me will miss the job.
“It would still make me feel better if you would take Frank with you,” Johnny says, referring to his private chauffeur.
“Give the man a break.” I give him my sweetest smile, casually grabbing my cup from the desk. “I’ll be fine.”
Brushing his words away, I watch his blue eyes darken to a seriousness he rarely gives me. His troubled gaze locks with mine as he’s pressing his lips to a flat line like he’s got something to say, the look bringing a slight worry to my chest.
“What?” I finally blurt.
“My sister was right.”
My eyebrows raise in curiosity. “What do you mean?”
He leans back, taking a deep breath before crossing his arms in front of his chest. It’s one of those looks that screams ‘Caution: preach ahead.’
“When I first took you to LA,” he starts, “she told me you would never really ground here. ‘That girl is more southern than she realizes herself,’ she said.”
He pauses, cocking his head. “I guess she was right. Since you’ve decided to go back home, you look more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you. And I’ve known you your entire life.”
A sad chuckle comes from his mouth before he looks at his feet, lost in thought.
“Maybe I was wrong for bringing you here,” he adds.
“Johnny.” I push out a breath, closing my eyes for a short moment. “You saved me. If you hadn’t brought me here—”
I shake my head, pushing away the tears that are pricking in the corner of my eyes. “I would probably be dead in the gutter right now.”
The corner of his mouth slightly rises, amused. “No chance, kid. You are too smart to end up in the gutter. You’re not your friend.”
“I wasn’t far off,” I counter.
“You were never going to end like her.”
“Maybe.” I shrug, tracing the rim of my cup with my finger. “But I wouldn’t know how lucky I was if you hadn’t brought me to LA. I wouldn’t appreciate home if I didn’t have anything to compare it to.”
Johnny always gave me more credit than I think I deserve, but I know he’s the one that saved me. I hated him for it and was determined to make a run for it as soon as we arrived in LA. But he pushed me. He threatened to force me to face my biggest fear if I didn’t get my shit together, backing me up against the wall.
Little did I know, it was the biggest gift he could’ve given me.
His eyes land back on mine, this time with a proud look that has me shooting him a coy smile.
“When did you get so wise?”
“When you dragged me here, gave me an all-consuming job, and forced me to grow up.” I stick my tongue out at him, done with the heavy talk.
“Fuck, I did, didn’t I?” His laugh echoes through the room, then he looks at his watch. “You better get going. I don’t want you driving in the dark.”
I hum in agreement before I get up and put the last of my stuff in my brown leather weekender. Then I move toward Johnny with a heavy feeling in my feet.
He grabs my face in his hands with a stern gaze.
“Now remember, you call me every morning and—”
“And every night when I’m in my hotel room. I know,” I interrupt.
It’s the same thing he says every single time I make this trip. Twice a year.
“Let’s not make this any harder than it already is.”
He lets go of my face to grab me in a tight hug, and I wrap my arms around his body, breathing him in.
“Shut up, smartass.” His tone is soft, a slight crack seeping through it. “I’m gonna miss you.”
Even though I can feel the tears waiting until they can run down my cheeks, combined with a lump forming in the back of my throat, I do my best to keep it together.
“You know you are going to see me this Friday, right?” I scoff, not knowing how to respond to Johnny being all sentimental.
“Don’t ruin the moment.” He moves back to look me in the eye. “I’m going to say this one last time and never again after that. I’m going to miss having you around all the time, kid. Call me whenever you need me, okay?”
His lips connect with my forehead, and I close my eyes to take in the moment. I’m grateful for him, knowing he will always have my back. He might not be my dad, but he’s definitely the next best thing.
“Thank you for everything, Johnny.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid. I’d do anything for you.”
“True. I’m in your will, right?” I joke.
He laughs, giving me a slight push toward the door. “Get out of here, Rebel . Before I put you back to work.”
“Fine,” I mutter with a smile, then I walk away and throw my weekender on my back with one hand. He walks me to the door at a fast pace, knowing I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.
I’m not good at goodbyes. They always bring me back to the finality of it, and I’ll do everything to avoid that feeling at all costs. I’ve already been through it too many times.
“Don’t forget to call!” he calls out when I walk through the revolving door.
“I won’t!” I yell back.
When I get outside, the sun warms my face, and I put my sunglasses on as I cross the parking lot, heading toward my car. Halfway along the lot, I turn around to look back one last time, taking in the big brick building that got so much of my time and energy for the last five years.
I feel sad and relieved at the same time. Not knowing what to do next is both scary and exciting. But not knowing what I need is even scarier.
And I don’t know what I need.
I don’t even know what I want.
It took me a long time to get to the point of admitting that, always putting up a front of confidence. But the truth is, I don’t know.
I like to believe I once knew, before… But really, I have never known. All I know is that I want and need something that I will never have again. To settle the void in my heart.
I inhale deeply, framing this image in my head before I turn around to get going with an excitement to go back home, ready to take on the next phase of my life.
It will be frustrating, and it will probably be hard. But I’m ready as much as I can be.
The satisfied feeling gets slammed out of my chest when I roughly bump into a wall of muscles . Dropping my bag in shock, a shriek erupts from my lips as I lose my balance while I expect to fall on my ass. My heart jumps when two firm hands grab my upper arms to keep me on my feet, and I look up to apologize as I stare into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
Blue like the shallows of the ocean, the sun making them glint in a way that steals my breath.
Startled, I take him in, captivated by the feeling of his arms while a hint of his fresh and fruity cologne hypnotizes me, until the slight twist of his mouth pulls me back to reality.
“Dear Lord, Jensen, you almost gave me a heart attack,” I snap, feeling busted as fuck. Even though he pisses me off, he also makes my stomach make weird flips every time he peers down at me like that.
“Bad conscience?” He grins as he lets go of my arms, then reaches down and picks up my bag. His tattooed arms are covered in a black hoodie, but just the outline of his shoulders against the fabric reminds me of what he looks like when it’s just a thin piece of fabric, bringing out every inch of chiseled tissue.
“Something like that,” I murmur, tucking it over from him. His eyes lock with mine, his gaze waiting, for what I don’t know, but regardless, my heart starts to pound against my ribcage. I quickly take a step back, knowing I need the distance to keep my head clear when it comes to Jensen.
I’ve learned to stand my ground against him over the years, to raise my chin and call him out on his bullshit, but that doesn’t mean that it was an easy task. The intense look in his eyes combined with his handsome face makes me weak in the knees, while his arrogant mouth fuels my anger more than anyone else on the team.
Well, that was before Sean cheated on me. Now, Jensen is a close second, being a walking mind-fuck if you’d believe how ridiculously my body responds every time our paths cross.
The fact that he pushed me a little more this weekend, in a way that had me looking up at the ceiling for a long time while lying in bed alone, hasn’t made it any easier.
“Well, anyway,” I say, putting my ever-professional smile on my face one final time. “I have to go. Good luck with everything.”
I move to the side to walk past him, when he grabs my arm again with force.
“Wait, we have to talk.” The abrupt action makes me drop my bag again, this time pissing me off for real.
“Can you bring her bag to the car?” Jensen picks it up, handing it out to someone behind me, and I turn around with a confused frown.
“Oh. Hey, Bodi.” I look at his best friend giving me a small wave, then he takes the bag from Jensen’s hand.
My head moves between both of them, not sure what’s going on, until Jensen holds up his hand in question.
I cock my eyebrow at him with a quizzical look. “What?”
“Keys,” he demands.
My first reaction is to make a smartass comment about how I don’t respond well to people commanding me, or how I’m not one of his sidekicks, but when I look at Bodi’s pleading brown eyes, my interest is piqued.
Bodi is definitely the better man out of the two, from what I’ve learned over the years, and I doubt he’d make a silent appeal if it wasn’t worth my while. I still shoot up my eyebrows in defiance, but my curiosity wins.
Instead of throwing a fit, I drop my keys in Jensen’s hand with a glare tugging on my lips. A fatherly sigh escapes Bodi’s throat, then he grabs the keys from Jensen’s hand.
“Be nice,” Bodi scowls at Jensen, who rolls his eyes in return, ignoring him by putting his focus back on me, that same penetrating stare slipping into place.
I watch Bodi walk toward my black SUV, a few yards away, then he opens the trunk to throw the bag in like he owns the damn thing. An amused smile crosses his face when he senses my eyes on him before he sits his ass on the tailgate and pulls out his phone, getting comfortable until we are done with whatever Jensen needs my help with.
Not really keen on doing any more damage control for one of the Knights’ notorious players, I move my gaze back to Jensen, crossing my arms in front of my body, with a slight glare.
“If this is about the brunette from Saturday, you have to take it to Penelope. I’m not on the job anymore.” I pop my hip.
“Actually,” he drawls, taking out his phone, “it’s about a blonde.”
“Really?” I grunt, annoyed, as he starts tapping on the screen, until he holds a picture in front of my face. “You had to go for another—” My breath hitches when the photo reaches my retinas. ” Fuck me. ”