Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
ADDIE
Four cities over nine days. By the end of the trip, I’m delirious and extremely ready to get home to Avery. Every night JJ and I FaceTime her, and every night at least one of us ends up a little teary eyed. Always Avery, but often JJ too.
Seeing this man who can be such a force on the ice turn into a puddle for his little girl only makes me love him more.
It’s getting hard to hide in public. And it’s hell keeping my physical distance when we spend nearly all our time together. It’s natural to gravitate toward him. To want to reach for his hand when we’re standing beside one another, to want to lean in and kiss him when he smiles at me.
It kills me that I can’t comfort him when he’s dealing with unwanted press, like right now.
The press normally abides by a well-known set of rules.
But everyone with a phone thinks they’re media these days, and tonight, while the team is out celebrating a big win in Seattle, a guy has pushed himself into JJ’s space while his friend holds up his phone and records.
I was coming back from the bathroom when I noticed.
Before I could approach, JJ looked at me and shook his head.
So I’m hanging back. Bray is with him, looking like he might explode, but JJ’s calm, silently telling his friend to cool it. Fighting on camera with some low-life idiot won’t do him or any of us any good.
I stop a few feet away and lean against the bar, waiting for them to get this dog and pony show over with.
“I’m Brent Jennings with Pub Stop Sports, and I’m here with JJ Hanson of the Boston Bolts. Hi, JJ.”
JJ gives a single nod.
“Tonight was a big win for Boston. Congrats.”
Another nod, then a grunt. “Thanks.”
I choke back a laugh, garnering JJ’s attention. Instantly, his expression warms.
“The loss of Sidney Howe so early in the season must have been tough. But Addie Langfield seems to be meshing well with the team. Are you concerned at all about your spot with the Bolts next year?”
Unease curls through me. Where is this guy going with this? JJ is one of the top goalies in the league.
“I’m only focused on this season.”
“But your contract is up and Howe’s isn’t. Correct? So if Langfield keeps playing as well as she has been, she’s in contention for your spot.”
Another grunt and a nod.
“Are you at all concerned? She’s a legacy. That’s got to be intimidating. What are the chances that the Bolts organization gets rid of one of their own?”
I roll my eyes. The idea that anyone, even my uncles, would consider signing me over JJ is ludicrous.
JJ’s body goes taut and his jaw goes hard. Fuck. They hit a nerve.
Before I can step in and temper the situation, he smiles.
“I’ve been competing against Adeline my entire life,” he says, his tone firm though his anger less obvious. “If management signs her next year, it will be because she’s the best damn goalie we’ve seen since Brooks Langfield played. And it will have nothing to do with her last name.”
I miss the rest of the interaction. My heart is thundering too loudly in my ears, and my head spins.
Because I know JJ better than I know anyone in the world, and he believes every word of what he just said.
No one has ever believed in me more, and that’s saying a lot, considering the Langfield men all have my back.
But fuck, how didn’t I realize that JJ’s contract is up next year?
And what does that mean for us? When Sidney comes back, my spot disappears.
Which means I’m back to being the coach…
and no longer living in this dream world where I have the perfect man and get paid a lot of money to play my favorite game.
A cheer goes up at the table, pulling me out of my thoughts. When I blink to clear my vision, I realize the camera is gone so I head over. “Everything okay?” I ask as I join the group.
Bobby waves a bartender over.
Shit. I know exactly what comes next.
“We’re doing shots to celebrate six straight wins.”
Bray shakes his head. “You’re going to regret that when coach is knocking on your door tomorrow morning.”
We’re playing in California in two days, so we’re traveling tomorrow, meaning we have the odd night off. It’s nice not to have to get right on a plane or on a bus after a game and to let loose for a night. So I shrug. “I’ll do a shot.”
JJ eyes me, his look saying I was hoping to go back to the hotel to celebrate. Why are you engaging with them?
But I only have a year with this team. A year in the NHL. And I want to enjoy every minute of it before I go back to coaching.
“Ya know,” Bobby says, the glint in his eye making me nervous. “If you really want to celebrate, Langfield, I’ve got an idea.”
Interest piqued, I lean in. “And what is that?”
He eyes JJ. “Don’t ya think we should make her an official Bolt?”
JJ groans. “No.”
I smack him in the chest. “What, can’t handle a little competition, Hanson?”
Sighing, he shakes his head. “It’s not that kind of competition.”
“Yeah, but every player on the first line has done it. What do you think, Cap?” Bobby practically shouts. “You think she has it in her?”
For the first time in a long time, Brayden actually smiles. It’s not a smirk. It’s a goddamn jubilant grin, and it’s glorious. “Yeah, man. Angles has been playing just as much as Hanson has. Why shouldn’t she do it?”
“Yeah, why shouldn’t I do it?” I echo, focus fixed on JJ.
He slams his eyes shut. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
And suddenly I’m a little nervous. What the hell did I just agree to do?
“A tattoo shop?”
Bray, JJ, Jarred, Bobby, Royal, and Maxim all came along with me to partake in this madness. The rest of the guys were more interested in the women circling our table than in witnessing whatever Bobby was challenging me to do.
“Okay, Adeline isn’t comfortable. I’m going to walk her back to the hotel,” JJ grouses.
Head tilted, Bray eyes me. “You uncomfortable, Angles?”
I glance up at the dancing rabbit on the shop window. It’s kind of cool. And I don’t like backing down from a challenge. “I’m fine,” I say, steeling my spine. “So I’m getting a tattoo?”
“Fuck no,” Bray snaps.
Bobby snorts. “Like Cap would let anyone else tattoo you.”
JJ crosses his arms, shifting so he’s partially in front of me. “No one is tattooing Adeline.”
“Oh my god.” With a shove, I push him out of the way. “You aren’t my goddamn bodyguard. I can do what I want.”
He glares at me, his blue eyes dark beneath the shitty parking lot lights.
I lift my chin. He may be my secret boyfriend, but he’s not in charge of me, and if he keeps pushing, he’s going to give us away.
Finally he sighs, running his hands through his hair. “Fine.”
“So if I’m not getting a tattoo, what am I doing?” I ask Bobby.
He smirks, his face lit up with mischief. “Every player on the team has a certain piercing.”
I have to work extra hard not to let my jaw drop. Oh fuck.
JJ’s laugh is low.
“What kind of piercing?” I squawk, thankfully remembering that as far as these guys know, I’m in the dark about JJ’s hardware.
Bray shakes his head. “Just a piercing. Any kind you want. It’s tradition. Everyone on the first line has one.”
Bobby huffs. “That’s not—”
Brayden shakes his head. “Just because you idiots were all convinced to pierce your goddamn dicks doesn’t mean she needs to follow suit.”
“She doesn’t have dick,” Maxim says in his thick Russian accent.
“Thanks for the anatomy lesson, Lube,” I mutter, though my throat has gone dry.
JJ only has the Jacob’s ladder. Does that mean every single one of them has their penis pierced? Is that really a thing?
Suddenly Savannah’s text about the OG Bolts team surfaces. She mentioned that the guys all had them. Which includes my uncles. I slap a hand to my mouth. I’m going to be sick.
“I warned you,” JJ murmurs, standing a little too close. His breath is warm on my neck, grounding me in this moment.
“Oh shit.” Jarred clutches his junk. “I don’t think I want to be on the first line.”
“You’re safe for now,” Royal mutters.
He and Sutton have been dating for almost a year. How did she not share this little tidbit with us? I’m going to kill her.
“So you want me to”—I swallow past the lump in my throat—“pierce something?”
Without my permission, my attention drifts down Bobby’s body.
Just as I reach the buttons of his jacket, JJ nudges me. “Don’t.”
Bobby just grins. “I’ll show you mine if you show me—”
Brayden swats the back of his head before he’s finished the sentiment.
He ducks, rubbing at the spot. “Fuck. Stop being so sensitive.”
“She’s lady,” Maxim says, eyes severe. “Do better.”
His stony expression is too much. A laugh works its way out of me, and my apprehension fades.
The guys join in, laughing and hooting. Even JJ relaxes a little.
With a deep breath, I step toward the door. “Okay, boys. Let’s go see what this lady can get pierced.”
The whole group of them are staring at me when I step out. JJ looks like he’s ready to lunge across the room and take me far, far away from here.
I have to hide my giggle.
Jarred is bouncing on his toes. “What’d you get, Angles?”
JJ scowls. “Don’t answer that.”
“Cool it,” Bray coughs out.
Bobby jumps to his feet and rubs his hands together. “C’mon. We’ve all seen each other’s.”
JJ full-on growls. “I will literally pull your eyes out of their sockets.”
I snort. “No one is being violent. And none of you are seeing what I got.” I grin. “But don’t worry, I’m officially a Bolt now.”
“Not quite. Bray’s gotta tattoo you first,” Royal says with an easy shrug.
“I’m down for that,” Jarred says.
“You not official yet,” Maxim says matter-of-factly.
When Jarred’s face falls, I wrap an arm around him. “It’s okay. I’ll wait and we can get ours done together.”
His little puppy dog face lights up as we wander toward the street.
“Are we going out for another round?” Bobby asks, pulling out his phone, probably to see where the rest of the guys ended up.
“No,” Bray, JJ, and I say in unison.
Bobby shrugs. “Your loss. Who’s coming with?”