Chapter 19 Parker
PARKER
Iwake with a start, that memory so vivid in my mind it might as well have just happened.
That was the day my childhood crush on Lincoln Storm turned into something much more serious.
He became something of an obsession.
But as much as I wanted more, he seemed to want the opposite because he backed right off, leaving me yearning for another innocent touch.
Casey returned with tales of her vacation and a boy she had a little fling with. Jealousy threatened to burn me to ash when she told me about kissing him on the beach.
I wanted a summer kiss.
But it wasn’t to be.
The holidays passed, we all went back to school, and I only really ever saw Linc in passing or when he was hanging out with Rett. Hockey took over all our lives, as it always does when the season starts every fall, and time just ran away from us.
I watched him from afar, of course, but I eventually lost any hope that that afternoon meant anything to him.
I mean, why would it?
He could have any girl at school he wanted. Why would he choose me over all of them?
They know what they’re doing. I was yet to be kissed.
Eventually, I got bored of wanting something I couldn’t have, so when one of Rett’s teammates was brave enough to stick his head above the parapet and ask me out, I said yes, knowing it would probably result in me getting some experience.
If only I knew where it would lead…
When my alarm begins to blare, I throw my covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
I silence it and push to my feet.
That’s when everything from the night before slams back into me.
I crash back to the bed and clutch my aching foot as the memory of having Linc on his knees, cleaning me up, comes back in technicolor.
I guess that explains the dream.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter before gingerly pressing my foot to the floor again.
He warned me that it was going to hurt today. I hate that he was right.
I take a breath and steel myself to stand again.
I hobble pathetically to the bathroom and lower my ass to the toilet, feeling like an idiot.
It’s my third day on the job, we’ve got a game this afternoon that I’ve benched one of our best wingers for, and I can barely stand.
This is going to be fantastic.
If Mitchell wasn’t already questioning my appointment, then he really will be today.
I’m not sure how much help they’ll be, but I swallow a couple of painkillers before I get dressed. I figure I’m going to need all the help I can get.
Everything is somewhat okay until I have to put my sneakers on.
Red-hot tears burn my eyes as I push my foot inside the snug shoe.
I sit on the edge of the bed and attempt to breathe through the pain for a few minutes.
Checking the time on my cell, I find I’ve got a few minutes before our call time.
Parker: I might have had an accident last night.
Casey: Oh my god, are you okay?
Parker: Yeah. I’m fine.
Casey: Are we talking physical accident or something else?
Parker: I didn’t sleep with anyone who wears a Vipers’ uniform, if that’s what you’re getting at.
Casey: But did you sleep with anyone?
Parker: Sadly, just me, myself, and my throbbing foot.
Casey: Throbbing…foot?
Deciding against typing the whole ordeal out, I tap for a voice note and relay the entire experience.
Casey: Linc is so sweet.
“What?” I blurt.
Parker: Is that all you have to say about it?
Casey: I’m glad your foot is okay. I’m sorry you're in pain today, and it’s going to be a long day.
Casey: But Linc is really sweet for looking after you like that.
Parker: He’s an overbearing asshole who needs to butt out.
Casey: If you say so.
Guilt knots up my insides as I consider what to reply.
All my life, I’ve told my best friend everything…or at least, she thinks I have.
She doesn’t know it, but I have a very big secret that only one other person on this planet knows. And as guilty as it makes me feel for not sharing, I convinced myself long ago that keeping it was for the best.
Parker: I gotta attempt to get down to the bus. Wish me luck today.
Casey: You don’t need it, you’ll be the best trainer the team has, even with a dodgy foot.
Parker: Thanks. Have a good day.
Casey: Love you x
Sliding my cell into the side pocket of my leggings, I get to my feet with a wince and grab my bag.
I’m almost at the door when my cell buzzes.
Assuming it’s Casey again, I pull it free.
I quickly discover my mistake.
Storm: How’s the foot? Need any help?
Shaking my head, I put my cell back to sleep, shove it deep in my pocket, and continue hobbling out of my room.
“Oh shit, what happened to you?” Cole Hansley—aka Handsy—asks the second the elevator doors open on my floor to reveal him and Calvin Keller—Killer—occupying the small space.
“I had a fight with a shard of glass. It won,” I mutter as I join them.
“Let me take that,” Handsy says, unhooking my bag from my shoulder and throwing it over his, along with his own.
“That’s what happens when you agree to party with Brooke.” Killer laughs.
“I wasn’t even drunk. I stopped after three. It was stupid.”
“Do you need it looked at? I’m sure Eddie could—”
“It’s fine. It’s been cleaned up, and the glass is gone.”
“Well, if you need it checked, just give him a shout.”
“I will. Thank you. Ready for today?” I ask, needing to change the subject.
“As ready as we’ll ever be. It’ll be good to see if Reeves can hold his own in Linc’s absence,” Killer says, mentioning the Vipers’ second-line winger.
“I’m sorry that—”
“Don’t be,” Handsy says firmly. “Never apologize for putting our health first.”
“You won’t be saying that when it’s you on the bench,” Killer teases.
“I’m good. And I have every confidence that Parker will keep me limber and ready for every game.”
I smile up at him. “I’ll give it my best shot,” I say as the doors part, revealing the rest of the team waiting for the buses to arrive in the foyer.
I scan the mass of bodies, and it only takes a second for my eyes to lock on a pair of familiar blue ones.
They narrow in question as I walk—or try to—between Handsy and Killer.
Linc moves closer, his eyes darting among the three of us.
“Thank you for the help, but I can take my bag from here,” I say, holding my hand out.
“I’ve got it,” Linc says, intercepting it and successfully turning all eyes on him.
“Shouldn’t you be focused on your pregame ritual right now?”
He rolls his eyes.
“How’s the foot? Bandage okay?”
I don’t look over, but I know that Handsy and Killer are exchanging a look.
“Parker,” a female voice calls, and when I glance over, I find Brooke racing toward me. “Oh my god, that was such an awesome night.”
A wide smile spreads across my mouth. “It was.”
“My head is pounding. Why didn’t I follow your lead and stop earlier?”
Someone snorts a laugh behind me—clearly someone who knows Brooke better than I do.
“Gutted we’re travelling tonight. We’re totally going out after the game tomorrow night, though, before we head home. What do you say, boys?” she asks, looking around at the players surrounding us.
“Sounds good,” Killer states. “We’re always up for a night with some bunnies. Isn’t that right, Storm?”
My breath catches in my throat. I shouldn’t care about his response or the fact that he’ll probably spend tomorrow night rolling around with some bunny.
“Damn straight. It’s been too long.”
Turning around, I glare up at him. “Contrary to popular belief, it doesn’t actually fall off if you don’t use it every night of the week.”
His lips press into a flat line. “Well, that’s good to know, considering I spent last night bandaging up your foot instead of getting any action.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
He’s about to respond, but someone calls that we’re to move out, and he turns around to head to the bus instead.
Brooke lingers, threading her arm through mine.
“What happened?” she asks, looking concerned.
“I must have stepped on some glass between the Uber and the front doors. It was nothing.”
She quirks a brow. “Enough to have a hot hockey boy playing doctor. Your night certainly ended better than mine.”
I don’t agree, but I also don’t say anything.
I’d much rather have just curled up in bed last night and been able to walk this morning.
The rest of the morning and afternoon pass in a blur, working on the guys, getting them ready for the game, and then standing just a few feet away from a scowling Linc as everything gets underway.
He’s barely spoken to me since we arrived at the arena. It seems his concern over my foot allowed him to forget his irritation for a while, but it’s back in full force now.
Whatever.
The less we interact, the better.
It’s a tough game. Lloyd Reeves plays the first line like his life depends on it.
He manages two assists, but he fails to find the back of the net.
We walk away with a 2-0 win, though. You’d think that score would mean Linc lightens up a little, but when we all make our way onto the airplane a few hours after the game, he’s still wearing the same scowl he has been all day.
“Oh my god.” I sigh as I sink into my seat beside Brooke.
I’m exhausted, and my foot feels like it has its own heartbeat.
“The guys killed it tonight,” she says without looking up from her cell, where she’s editing footage from tonight’s game, ready to post.
“They did. And another shutout for Handsy. Coach is going to have offers coming in left and right with his performance this season.”
“He’d be stupid to let him go.”
“I can’t see it happening. But we’re getting toward that time of year.”
She mumbles her agreement as the final few people take their seats.
Brooke switches her cell off as the doors are closed, and she finally turns toward me.
“Ready for the next leg?” she asks, excitement glittering in her eyes.
“Please try not to break me this time.”
A shadow falls over me, and my heart sinks, but when I turn around, I find Leah smiling down at me.
“How’s the head?” I ask.
“Better than your foot, by the sounds of it.”
“I’m pretty sure if I take my sneaker off, I’ll never get it back in.”
“As soon as we’re in the air, get it elevated. No excuses for tomorrow night,” she teases before taking off to get started.
“You two are going to be the death of me.”
“There are worse ways to go, don’t you think?”