Chapter 16
HAILEE
“Is everything okay?” Bea asks as she sips on her decaf latte.
My heart rate picks up as I swallow my own, thankfully non-decaf coffee, and lower my mug.
“Yeah, of course,” I say, forcing a smile on my face.
“If you’ve changed your mind about shopping, we can cancel. I don’t mind,” she offers.
“No, no, I don’t want to cancel. I’ve just got a lot on my plate at the moment with the season starting and everything.
I’m distracted, I’m sorry.” It’s not a lie.
My to-do list for next week is out of control.
But while I’d normally be fully in control, this year, I’m finding it increasingly hard to stop my mind from drifting.
At first, I was worried about Hayden and how he was dealing with everything: being back in LA, away from his family, and the support network he had in Oregon.
I mean, I’m still worried, but there’s more to it now.
After his little impromptu visit to my apartment yesterday, I can’t stop thinking about the way he looked at me, the way my skin tingled with his attention, and the butterflies that exploded within me whenever he said something even a little bit flirty.
He was…so relaxed and so himself. Shamelessly checking me out and letting me know that he was interested, even if he knew he shouldn’t be.
And I was…well, awkward. Being almost naked in front of a man…
it was a bit of a shock to the system. I was already spiraling, and then when he told me to take my cover-up off… safe to say, I freaked out.
It was stupid, but my past trauma suddenly sat up and smacked me around the head.
I told myself the day I left that I’d never allow myself to be ordered around by a man again.
And I haven’t. Sure, it hasn’t been easy finding my feet in a male-dominated industry.
I’ve had to grow a thick skin and develop a whole new persona.
Hailee Jefferson was weak. She allowed herself to be bossed around, used, and abused. But Hailee Caldwell…she’s fierce, independent, and doesn’t give a shit about what a man thinks of her. She’s unashamedly herself, and you can either get on board, or you can be left in my dust.
Watching men fall in line to respect my authority has been a life-changing experience. It’s allowed me to take back control, rebuild my shattered confidence, and discover who I really am.
“Tell me about it,” Bea asks, looking genuinely interested in what I’ve got going on right now. “I’m such a hockey novice, I want to know it all. Understand everything expected of Everett and the guys, of you, Parker, and Casey.”
I can’t help but smile. She’s got the excitement of a child attending their very first game.
Unable to deny her, I dive into what the lead-up to training camp and then training camp itself looks like.
She soaks it all up as if she’s studying for an exam, and slowly my fears about spending time with someone who knows the truth about my past begin to fade.
Bea isn’t like her family, or mine, or the one I was forced to marry into.
She’s just…normal. Well, as normal as any of us are.
The conversation turns to her salon, and the second she begins telling me about building the business from the ground up, nothing but pride oozes from her.
All the while she talks, I try to keep my hands hidden in my lap, because I know that one look at my nails and she’ll be dragging me down there for a refresh.
They’re more than a little overdue—just another thing that’s fallen to the bottom of my list recently.
Once we’ve eaten our breakfast and the stores have opened for the day, we head out.
“Did you have anything in mind?” I ask as we enter a store, hit by a blast of cold air.
“Something that will fit my belly,” Bea jokes. “And that doesn’t cost a fortune.”
“I’m sure Rett’s good for it.”
“Don’t,” she warns. “Some of the things he bought for me and the little one are just ridiculous. Neither of us is going to get enough use out of them. And this dress is going to be for one night; it doesn’t need to be crazy expensive.”
“Something tells me this isn’t the first time you’ve said those words.”
“Was it that obvious?” She laughs as we browse. “What about you? Do you have a dress ready?”
“I have a few options,” I muse as I pick up a dress that is the exact shade of my bikini yesterday.
“Oh, that’s hot, and it would look insane on you,” Bea says, peeking over my shoulder.
I shake my head and put it back. Not only is it the same shade as my bikini, but despite being floor-length, it also looks like it wouldn’t cover much more. There are two high slits up each side, and I’m pretty sure it would expose way more side boob than any of my colleagues ever need to see.
Hayden would think it’s hot, a little voice says.
“Oh no,” Bea says when I place it back on the rack. “You are trying this on.”
My lips part to argue, but I get one look at the determination on her face and swallow the words. I didn’t realize it before, but pregnant women are terrifying. Way too many emotions that could explode at any moment.
I take it from her, draping the incredibly soft satin over my arm to stop it from dragging on the floor as we keep going.
Between us, we collect a handful of dresses before making our way to the dressing rooms.
“He was hot,” Bea says as we wait for the member of staff who’s busy with another customer.
“Who was?” I ask, unaware that there was a man in here at all, let alone a hot one.
Bea jerks her chin, and I turn around as discreetly as I can to scan the area.
“Yeah, I guess,” I muse when my eyes land on a guy, probably about my age, with dark hair, strong cheekbones, and a sharp jawline.
“You guess?” Bea balks. “He could easily be on the cover of GQ.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “You do know who that is, right?”
Bea narrows her eyes at the man. “Nope.”
“He’s a hockey player,” I say, turning away before he can spot me.
“Oh,” she breathes. “I don’t recognize him.”
“He doesn’t play for the Vipers. He’s an Ace.”
“Anaheim, right?” she asks nervously, testing out her new knowledge.
“Yep,” I agree, and she smiles proudly.
“Why are all athletes hot? And what’s with all the bad-boy vibes?” My breath catches the moment she says that, and I’m taken right back to my apartment yesterday. “It should be illegal to be that hot, that wealthy, and that…charming. We don’t stand a chance.”
I don’t really hear the rest of what Bea says; I’m too busy remembering how dejected Hayden looked when he explained about being friend-zoned because he understood women.
He was right with what he said. It’s what women say they want, but in reality, they’re chasing the high of the bad boy.
It’s why Rett and Calvin cause me more drama than most of the other guys.
Okay, Rett not so much now. But the bad-boy vibes they give off have women flocking to them from three states away.
“Who knows,” I say.
“So, athletes don’t do it for you then?”
“Men don’t do it for me,” I mutter under my breath.
“O-oh,” Bea sings. “I see. So we’re looking for a hot woman instead.”
“What? No.” I laugh. I didn’t mean it like that. “Although I can’t deny that dating a woman probably comes with a hell of a lot less stress and drama.”
“Much less dick, though,” Bea muses, making me snort with laughter.
“Forgotten what it feels like,” I confess quietly as we’re finally shown to two dressing rooms.
“I wasn’t overly active before Rett, so if you’d have said that to me a few months ago, I would have said it wasn’t really all it’s cracked up to be. But now…I gotta say, you’re missing out.”
I laugh, shaking my head at her. “That’s just the hormones talking.”
“They might help. But sex with Everett? Fuck, it's like a high I’ve never experienced before.”
I refrain from pointing out that it’s his wealth of experience that ensures he knows what he’s doing. It’s a comment I’m not sure she’d appreciate.
“I’ve been with others. I try not to think about it, but when I was younger, I had my fair share of one-night stands. But nothing, and I mean nothing, comes even close to being with Everett.”
“I’m happy for you and all your orgasms,” I deadpan, making her howl with laughter. “But I’m content with my smut and vibrator.”
A knowing smile appears on her lips as she nods her head.
“What?”
“Content for now. You’ll find him one day, and you’ll never look back.”
“Considering that I’m not looking, I’m unlikely to find anything,” I counter.
“Wrong choice of words. I wasn’t looking either. He…found me. Hell, who knows, maybe you’ve already met him and he’s just waiting for the right moment.”
“Hmm, maybe,” I mutter as I slip into the dressing room and pull the curtain closed behind me.
I hang up the dresses and begin stripping out of my clothes. The first couple don’t require me to remove my bra. They’re great, and when I show Bea, she agrees, although she isn’t having such luck with her selections.
When I’ve only got the red dress left to try, I pause, just staring at it.
It’s really beautiful, and even without trying it on, I know it’s going to suit my figure.
I also know that I’ll need to get it taken up.
Full-length dresses aren’t designed for girls of my height.
Thankfully, there’s a lovely lady in my building who’s used to having to alter my dresses.
Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra. There’s no way I’ll get away with wearing one under it.
The second I step into the fabric, it feels right, and I curse myself because I just know I’m going to love it enough to buy it, and then it’s going to call to me until I end up wearing it to the masquerade ball this year.
It’s the Vipers first event of the year. Everyone always looks forward to it, and it always brings in heaps of cash for our charities. It’s usually an incredible night and provides us with fantastic media coverage, which in turn leads to ticket sales. It’s all a win-win, really.
I slip the straps over my shoulders and then take a moment before I look up, and the second I do, my breath catches. Goose bumps race over my skin, and when I close my eyes, I can almost imagine that his eyes are on me like they were yesterday.
My temperature spikes, and a steady throb starts up between my thighs. I tell myself that it was Bea’s talk of dick and good sex that’s done it, but deep down, I know otherwise.
“Have you got it on yet?” Bea calls.
I roll my shoulders before reaching for the curtain and pulling it back.
“Holy fuck,” she blurts. “You have to buy that.”
“Agreed,” a deep voice rumbles from the other end of the dressing room.
We both look over, and we find Dylan Harvey with his shoulder resting against the wall, his eyes firmly set on me.
“Looking hot as fuck, Caldwell.”
I smile, but there’s no warmth in it. It’s my specially designed grin that silently tells a man to fuck off. Nine times out of ten, it works. But it seems that Dylan might be the exception.
“She’s totally buying it for the ball.”
“Ah, yeah. The famous Vipers masquerade,” he says, rubbing his jaw as his eyes continue to eat me up.
“What’s wrong? Jealous you don’t get an invite?” I snark.
He barks a laugh. “You’re cute.”
My top lip peels back, and I sneer at him.
“We’re done here,” I say, turning away from him.
“He wants you,” Bea whispers quietly enough that he can’t hear.
“Good for him. Can we leave now?”
“Only if you’re buying that dress.”
I smile at her. “As if I have a choice.”