Chapter 41
It’s been four weeks since I was discharged from the hospital.
Four weeks of Chase hovering and my body healing naturally, even while my brain still does somersaults.
I still haven’t gone back to work yet. Gossip central makes my stomach curl, but the idea of starting my own publishing house? It’s tempting. I don’t actually know how to start one, but maybe Finn, Chase’s lawyer, can help.
I think about the flowers that came from W&B after my surgery, alongside a ninety-nine cent generic card that read: well wishes from all of us.
The emptiness in their gesture mirrors my mother’s disappearance. No one’s seen her since Chase watched her slip out through the adjoining room in the hotel, a ghost in heels. Her henchman is still in jail, claiming he acted alone.
It’s not exactly comforting.
Deep down, I know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
A splash of hot water snaps me out of my thoughts. It runs down my arm, and I pull away from the shower wall, pushing my sleeve back.
At first, being waited on hand and foot was cute. Now? I’m a volcano ready to erupt.
Chase is kind, sweet, thoughtful, and charming but is smothering me.
Every one of my attempts to prove I’m fine have fizzled out. Which is why, at this very moment, I’m shimmying my way out of his bathroom window.
I know—it’s ridiculous and borderline unhinged.
But what choice do I have? How do I look at my perfectly hot boyfriend and say, “Eighty-Seven, you’re driving me bananas?”
The thing is, I can’t, so I need to call in reinforcements.
I lower myself onto the ledge and jump the three feet to the ground. The cold air hits my skin. Adrenaline pumps blood through my body. The stadium is twelve minutes away. Nine if you’re on a mission. And I am.
My breathing evens out as I slip through the Great Lakes Stadium doors and head for the ice.
Coach Avery stands to his full height at the boards, calling out plays. He spots me immediately, winks, and whistles.
The guys notice, groans and sighs ricocheting off the ice in unison.
Oliver drops his stick, throws his fists in the air, and starts rolling his hips like a male stripper giving his last performance on the stage.
Oh no.
It hits me.
I’ve been part of a bet.
Griff and Hayes skate over as I join them, and Coach Avery answers the question I haven’t asked yet.
“The boys took bets on how long it would take you to show up and admit Pretty Boy is driving you insane.”
“Oh, you think that’s why I’m here?” I ask, trying to play it cool.
Griff lifts an accusatory brow.
“I came to invite the guys to dinner,” I lie. “Six o’clock. Chase is at the store right now. Any dessert requests?”
Coach Avery smirks. “Well, considering you’re here, Mark approved giving Harper another week off.”
I shriek and my lie crumbles. “No! God, no. Tell him he has to come back. I can’t take it anymore.”
My hand flies to my mouth.
Too late.
Coach Avery chuckles and steps away to answer his phone.
“He’s smothering you, huh?” Hayes teases.
I groan. “I know he just wants to take care of me but it’s too much. Yesterday, I tried to walk to Bakes by the Lakes while he showered. Halfway down the street, I hear him screaming my name.”
“Please tell me,” Griff says, hands in prayer, “he ran after you in all his glory?”
“He was wearing my robe.”
Hayes chokes on air. “I don’t believe you.”
I whip out my phone and hand it over. The photo of Chase busting out of my fluffy robe, bare chested, has me sweating all over again. My stomach flips remembering how I couldn’t breathe for a full minute because I was so turned on.
His voice echoes in my head as if he’s standing right behind me.
Like what you see, sweetheart?
I hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, just stared. As he escorted me back home, I’m not ashamed to admit I had my eyes on his perky ass the entire way.
Hayes instantly texts the photo to himself.
Great.
I can already see the memes. The group chat is going to explode.
“I need help,” I groan.
“Sorry, Goose,” Rudy says. “Pretty Boy is not going to like you requesting our services. You’re on your own.”
“Traitor!” I yell. He responds by forming a heart over his head and skating away.
And then there were two.
“So, Papa Bear, fancy helping a girl out?”
Hayes smirks. “He’s really that bad?”
“I winced yesterday—for half a second—and he appeared out of nowhere Houdini style.”
“And where exactly does Houdini think you are now?”
“I, uh…” I wince. “In the shower. I jumped out the window.”
Hayes barks out a laugh. “Oh, Night Owl. You are in so much trouble.”
He calls out to a player—Logan Lloyd—and the rookie skates over to us.
Logan grins. “You doing okay, Gladiator?”
“Gladiator?” I echo, wondering who he’s referring to.
“That’s what everyone’s calling you. You’re a badass, Callahan.”
Hayes smirks. “Logan, take Erin to the locker room. Suit her up. She’s training with us today.”
“See?” Logan winks. “Gladiator.”
I gear up and get back on the ice. Logan keeps a hand on my elbow as I skate to the center. I turn back just in time to see Oliver holding my phone to his ear, grinning like a madman who thrives in the chaos.
I think it’s safe to assume Chase knows I’m not in the shower anymore.