Chapter 8
EIGHT
ADDIE
When I hit my second mile, I finally feel like myself again. This is what I needed. Since moving out of my apartment and leaving the team that I spent four years with, everything has felt off.
The consensus is that it will take time to get used to this new life.
To not playing hockey professionally. To not living on my own.
I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s because all these changes occurred at the same time.
Maybe it’s because my old teammates have been texting constantly, always talking about their training camp, which started this week as well.
Either way, it’s all hitting me extra hard.
But with the fresh air filling my lungs, the rolling green hills as a backdrop, and a perfectly curated playlist on shuffle in my ears, the world seems a little brighter.
I make it around the park twice more, then head back to the brownstone situated a mere fifty feet from the park entrance. As I hit the front walk, I check my watch. Four miles in thirty-five minutes. Not too shabby.
Not professional hockey level, but I don’t need to be in the same kind of shape as the players.
Still, I do ten sets of lunges, jumping jacks, and burpees before I call it a morning and head inside. I’ll get an actual workout in after practice today, but I always feel better if I get my heart rate up and my muscles burning just a little first thing in the morning.
I sneak into the house, hoping like hell I don’t wake any of the kids.
The last thing I need is to be surrounded by chaos at five a.m. AirPods still in, I dance around the kitchen, filling a glass of water and taking my morning vitamins.
Then I head upstairs for a shower. We’ve got to be at the practice rink by eight, but I’d like to relax and drink a cup of coffee after my shower and maybe do a little yoga and journal for a bit before I get dressed.
Honestly, since I have to deal with Dirk again—and JJ—I need to do more than journal, but with the time I’ve got, I’ll have to settle for that.
With clothes in hand, I knock on the bathroom door, ensuring that JJ isn’t on the other side.
It’s still so weird that he’s sleeping in Finn’s room.
And it’s even weirder that while he moved into that same room for an entire hockey season when we were teenagers, he didn’t ever actually sleep there.
Instead, he spent every night in my bed. Beside me.
My focus drifts to the king-size bed. The same bed I had back then. I can almost picture the two of us, fifteen and stupid, staying up way too late, talking, sharing secrets, laughing, crying.
That year was hell on his family. Even now, more than a decade later, I often think about how close they came to losing Cat.
But she’s still here. Though I rarely see her anymore. Not since Avery was born, anyway.
Eyes falling shut, I shake my head. Why am I thinking about this? I thought I was over all of it. Over him.
I clench my jaw and chide myself. It’s ridiculous to believe that I could be. That I ever will be. How could I get over the only man I’ve ever loved? The one person who knows every spot that elicits pleasure. The person who’s caused me far more pain than anyone or anything else ever could.
Groaning, I turn the music up. I need to dance this out.
The bathroom is a few degrees warmer than my bedroom, like maybe JJ was in the shower not long ago.
Good. That means we won’t be late. I set my bundle of things on the closed toilet lid and strip as I dance, bouncing on my toes Meredith Grey style.
My mom and her best friends forced all of us to watch every season of Grey’s Anatomy in high school.
And when I say forced, I mean we were all for it.
Growing up the way I did, surrounded by so many honorary aunts and cousins, was incredible.
Shit. I stumble a little, realizing I forgot to turn the water on to heat up. I hate a cold shower, and I swear that’s one thing Dad has never been able to fix about this house. It takes a good two minutes to warm up to the nearly scalding temperature I like.
Grasping the curtain, I tug it open. Rather than finding it empty, I discover a naked JJ standing before me, and a blood-curdling scream escapes me as my heart takes off at a gallop.
“Why are you naked?” I shout.
He barely reacts to my anger. Rather than covering up or yelling back, JJ stands under the spray with his cock dangling between his legs and a cool expression on his face.
I’m pretty sure something glistens on his cock. Is…is his penis pierced?
And is that a tattoo on his chest?
His mouth moves, but I don’t hear a word.
Scowling, I holler, “I can’t hear you!”
He points to his ears, a nonplussed look on his face.
Oh. Right. Lizzo is still singing, drowning out all other sound.
With a huff, I pull out an earbud. “Why are you just standing there? Why didn’t you call out when I knocked?”
“I did. I’ve called your name at least twenty times since you ignored me when I shouted that I was in the shower.”
“Well, I couldn’t hear you,” I say with far too much sass for someone who clearly carries some blame here.
He shrugs, his full body on display, making it hard to keep my thoughts straight. “Okay.”
“So why didn’t you get out when I came in?” I wave a hand wildly at the door.
“So you could see me naked?”
“I’m already seeing you naked,” I shriek.
“I’m aware.”
“Why aren’t you covering yourself?” My heart is still racing, and by now, my face is on fire.
He shrugs, still wearing a smirk as the water beats down on his muscled body. He’s truly a sight to behold. His form should be replicated and put in a museum. It’s unfair that the world hasn’t been blessed with this view. Because he’s beautiful. A beautiful, cocky asshole.
“I’ve got nothing to hide, Adeline.” His eyes dance. “Besides, nothing you haven’t seen before.”
I snatch a towel from the rod and whip it at him, then storm out. The cocky attitude and the sexy body are tangling up all my thoughts and emotions. “We need a better system!”
“Agreed,” he yells. “Next time try listening for a response after you knock.”
As I slam the door, he barks out a laugh.
Hands balled into fists, I roar. Fuck.
No amount of yoga, journaling, or running could settle my racing heart after the little interaction I had with JJ this morning.
But a little time alone wouldn’t hurt, so rather than wait for him to head to the rink, I sneak out the front door while the rest of the crew is in the kitchen talking over one another and banging pots and pans. I don’t feel even a moment of remorse.
The silence on the way in was necessary, but hours later, I’m still off balance.
And since it’s a dryland training day, JJ’s haughty smirk is on full display rather than covered by a freaking helmet.
And my traitorous eyes can’t focus on anything but his body.
There are over sixty men in this room. I’m sure many women find the majority of them hot.
They’re all in incredible shape, obviously.
I’ve just never given a hockey player a second glance.
Other than JJ.
Then again, I’ve never really given men attention period.
Again, other than JJ.
Ugh. I roll my eyes at myself. I hate this little crush I have. It’s pathetic.
He’s on the treadmill, laughing easily as he runs six fucking miles per hour. Beside him, Brayden Hawke, our team captain and JJ’s best friend, grins.
I’ve known Brayden my whole life. Tyler Warren, former Bolts captain and close friend of my parents, was his guardian in high school and War and his wife Ava adopted my friend Josie and her younger sister during that time.
So I know for certain that if there is one thing Brayden is not, it’s funny.
The man barely has a personality. All he cares about his hockey and his family.
Kind of like me, I guess. I’m not funny either.
So why the fuck is JJ laughing so hard?
When his eyes meet mine in the mirror and he winks, my blood boils. The asshole has got to be doing this on purpose.
Patience snapping, I stalk over to the machine, pull the red cord to stop it, and glare at my roommate. “Since you seem more interested in talking than working when your friends are around, why don’t you go run around the building five times?”
He coughs out a laugh, but he hops off the machine without challenging me. “Okay, Coach. Whatever you want.” Winking again, he snags his towel and stalks toward the door.
Asshole.
Teeth gritted, I dig my phone out of my pocket. I need a girls’ night and I need one pronto, so I type out a message to my best friends. Then I text the brownstone family chat.
Me: I’m staying at Savannah’s for the night. No need to save me a plate for dinner.
Winnie: Okay, have fun!
Hope: Ah, girls’ night. I’m so jealous. We should do one of those soon!
I feel a twinge of guilt for ditching them, but it’s not my fault they all have kids.
Before I can stash my phone, another text pops up, but this one is in a separate thread.
Vivi: Oh my god, can I come for a few hours? I need a break.
Me: Haha, it’s been one day.
Vivi: Two. Please, Addie. I’ve got no one.
My heart clenches a little at the desperation bleeding from her message.
Me: What time are you off ‘shift’?
Vivi: Hope and Finn can watch the kids, so I’ll be ready. Just let me know what time.
Me: My brother is STILL there?
Vivi: Yeah, he swung by after practice. He’s got a few away games coming up, though, so he said he’ll be gone for the next week or so.
Me: Oh, whatever will he do without Hope?
Vivi: LOL. So can I come?
Me: Pack a bag. I can drop you off at home early tomorrow morning.
Vivi: Thank you, Addie. You were always my favorite cousin.
I roll my eyes. She’d say that to any one of our cousins if they were the one springing her from her brownstone prison.
Once I’ve texted my girls to let them know I’m bringing Vivi, I take a deep breath and stuff my phone back into my pocket, then turn around. No JJ in sight. And no chance of running into him tonight.
Much better.