Chapter 13 #2
A pit opens up in my gut. Right. This is about work.
I temper my expectations and settle on the hearth beside her.
Adeline reaches for one of the glasses, and when she wraps her hand around it, she winces.
“Still hurt?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Just need a little medicine.” She dangles the whiskey bottle between her fingers.
“Allow me,” I say, taking it from her.
Rather than opening it, I reach for her hand. “Can I see?”
She sucks on her bottom lip but nods and sets her hand in mine.
I flip it over and lean in closer. The red mark in the center of her palm sends fury through my veins again. “Fucking Dirk,” I mutter.
“I shouldn’t have caught it. But it was instinct.”
“He shouldn’t have flung a puck at you in the first place.”
She shrugs. “No, he shouldn’t have.”
“This needs ice.” Very gently, I run a finger over the spot.
“Yeah.” The single syllable is a little breathless.
I don’t take my eyes off her as I pluck a piece of ice out of the tumbler closest to me.
When I set it to her palm, she hisses.
My gaze roams over her. Over this pretty girl that has me wanting to do anything I can to ease her pain.
I can’t ease the ache in my own chest that comes from seeing her in pain, but I can do something about her hand.
I slip the ice into my mouth and hold it in place with my teeth.
Then I bring my mouth to her palm and roll it across the angry red skin for a handful of seconds before pulling it back and brushing my lips against her cool skin.
Eyes meeting hers, I silently ask her if this is okay.
She gives me a quick nod, holding my gaze even as I slip the ice out again, this time just past my lips. I repeat the process, this time stroking her skin with my mouth, the ice a mere excuse.
She hisses a surprised breath. “JJ.” It comes out as the most beautiful whine. A whimper. It’s a sound I’ve memorized. A memory that has lulled me to sleep and awoken me more nights than I can count.
I slide the ice to one side of my mouth, but I don’t release her. “Is it helping?”
She shakes her head.
She doesn’t have to speak to tell me she doesn’t mean the pain in her hand. This isn’t helping us.
Looking away, I bite into the ice, breaking it up and swallowing it down.
She pulls her hand back, and I pick up the whiskey and pour us each a generous amount. Then I take a quick swig.
“So you wanted to talk?”
Her eyes fly to mine like she’s shocked that I’ve switched topics so easily.
But I can’t just sit here and stare at her. If I do, I’ll tell her everything in my head—everything in my heart. And that’s far too dangerous.
“We need to figure out how to act around one another now that…” She sighs.
Now that Tabitha’s gone? Is that what she wants to talk about?
“Now that I’m your coach,” she finishes.
Right. Of course. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me? Bray is right; I need to stop looking at her this way.
“Okay.” I dip my chin. “I’m open to whatever you think will work.”
“That’s kind of why I wanted to do this,” she murmurs, head down. “I have no idea how to even talk to you anymore. It’s been so long and there’s so much baggage.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I have to fight the urge to move closer to her. “Two truths and a lie.”
She tilts her head, frowning. “Huh?”
“Covering everything that happened when we weren’t speaking would take a long, long time,” I explain.
She arches a brow.
“But we could cover some things.” I shrug, going for nonchalant. “Keeping it professional, of course.”
“Of course,” she agrees. “It’s just, we haven’t done that since…” She looks away, bringing her whiskey glass to her lips.
No. We haven’t done it since that night. The night that everything changed. And then it changed again.
“Fine.” She interrupts my thoughts, and with a deep breath, she says, “Working and living with you is harder than I thought it would be. I want to be there for Avery, but I don’t know how to do that without stepping on toes. I’m a better goalie than you ever were.”
I chuckle, a little levity flowing through me. “Well, we know the last one is true.”
She shakes her head. “No. That was the lie.”
Before I can wrap my head around what she said about Avery, she clears her throat.
“Now you go.”
I examine her in the moonlight. She’s rushing through this, but fuck do I want to slow us down. I don’t want to just get through things with Adeline. I want to know her again. I want her to know me. I want us to be friends. At the very least.
“You’re a better goalie than anyone in this league. I’m lucky you’re my coach. It’s impossible to not tell you my every thought.”
She snorts. “All lies, really?”
All truths, actually. But I don’t tell her that. “The coach thing was a lie,” I fib. “Because right now I’m a shitty goalie and you’re a shitty coach.”
With a hand to her heart, she says, “Ouch.” She takes another healthy sip of her whiskey and looks out over the skyline. “But you’re not wrong. I have been a shitty coach. But that changes tonight.”
I raise my brows. “Really?”
Tongue in her cheek, she nods. “It’s up to me not to blow this for myself. No one else can do that for me. So I need to get over this rivalry I have with you and Dirk.” She shakes her head. “You guys won, right?”
Fire flares inside me, and not from the alcohol. “Fuck him. That piece of shit doesn’t deserve to be on the same ice as you.”
She gives me a wobbly smile. “Thanks.”
I shake my head. “I’m serious.”
“So, um, truce?” Her brown eyes lock on mine, wary.
“One condition?”
She lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Jeez, you act like I’m the only one responsible for this little rift.”
Little rift. Like the jagged canyon that has existed between us for the last four years could ever be categorized as something so minuscule.
But she needs us to figure out this working relationship, and I do want to move forward—need it, in fact—so I don’t press on that sore point.
“We promised Avery that we’d teach her how to skate. Do that with me?”
Her eyes light up. “I will always keep my promises to Avery.”
I nod, my heart settling again. “Then I think you and I will be just fine.”