CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Welcome to my funeral
JAKE
Tonight, we lost our first game of the season.
I don’t know what was going on today, but we were fucking horrible.
Nate carried the team, as always, but it wasn’t enough to get us out of the hole that Kieran and I dug us into. I just know that once we get out of the showers, Coach will be waiting for us, ready with a lecture and a good scolding.
I don’t normally brag about how good of a player I am—okay, I try not to brag all the time—but I’m a fucking good defenseman, but today, I shit the bed.I skated slower than usual, allowed multiple guys to slip past me, and overall played like shit. My shoulder was bothering the hell out of me, an indicator that I should’ve stayed home last night and iced it instead of going out.
My head wasn’t in the game. It felt like I had a lingering brain fog from last night.
Kieran seemed to be in the same boat as me, which really did us in.He let in three goals before the third period, so Coach pulled him and had our second-string goalie play the remainder of the game. I don’t think I’ve seen Wilson’s face so red during a game since last year’s championship.
The culprit: alcohol.
Last night, Kieran and I may have overindulged at the frat party. I showed up solo, but an hour into the night, Kieran showed up moody as hell.
Was I upset that Vanessa chose to hang out with Levi over me? Yes. I just don’t understand her. One minute she’s moaning my name and tugging my hair, and the next she wants to just be friends.
I don’t even want any sort of commitment, but the fact that she can so easily toss me aside hurts more than it should. I’m not the kind of guy who gets jealous over a girl because normally there’s no competition. But here I am, whining like a baby because, for once, I didn’t get the girl.
Geez, I need Kieran to punch me in the face.
Speaking of Kieran—I don’t know what got into him last night, but I don’t think I ever saw him without a drink in his hand.I know if Coach gets a whiff of this, we might get benched for the next game. He’s not a huge fan of us partying during the season, but he especially hates it when we come in hungover and it affects our game.
To be honest, we were both in shit moods and drowned it in bottles of liquor and girls.
Was it the best distraction? No, but it worked.
I drank until I stopped picturing Vanessa with Levi. They could’ve been hanging out like friends, but the ruffled blankets on the couch had me thinking otherwise.Levi plays the long game. I’ve seen it firsthand. He becomes their friend first and then swoops in like Prince Charming. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was doing that with Vanessa right now.
I don’t understand what she sees in Levi. I get that they have some things in common—they have the same major, they both like photography, and they both love to annoy the shit out of me.Maybe that does intimidate me a little. There’s something about Vanessa that throws me off my game. It’s like she’s the outlier in a code and I have no clue how to fix it.
After that night in Vermont, things have felt tense between us. I don’t know how to deal with a situation like this. One moment she was begging for more, and the next she was asking me to never speak of it again, as if her taste wasn’t still lingering on my lips.
I may have been avoiding her at practices this week, but I feel like she felt ashamed after we hooked up, and that’s not something a guy wants to think about. I’m hoping she doesn’t regret it, but she’s so goddamn confusing. How can she go from having me between her legs to hanging out with fucking Brody?
I’m calling bullshit.
I don’t think she’ll be able to resist me if she gives me the chance. I’m told I have quite the charm, and I already know what pleases her. I’ll be her friend. But the second she asks for more, I’ll cave.
“Shepherd. Danford. My office, now!” Coach’s voice booms through the locker room.
Fuck . I knew he was going to say something.
My hair is still wet as I towel the rest of myself off and head to my locker to grab my clothes. Putting on a suit after a shower always makes me feel like I’m some top shit professional, but right now I feel like I’m about to walk into my funeral. Coach is going to eat me and Kieran alive.
Kieran eyes me from the corner, making a face that screams We’re in deep shit. I nod at him, silently agreeing that we’re definitely fucked.
We make our way over to the office that’s adjacent to the locker room. Coach only really uses this office before or after a game, other than that, I think he enjoys his new and clean office in the athletic building.The downside to this office is that it’s right next to the locker room and has wall-to-ceiling windows, so all the guys are going to witness the scolding we’re about to receive on their way out of the arena. Nate and Eli are already leaning against the wall, shaking their heads as we approach the office door, waiting for the show to start.
Assholes.
Coach Wilson’s face is beat red, and he rubs his fingers across his chin. This is not going to end well.
He looks up and sees us standing outside the office like we’re waiting for an invitation to go inside. “Get your asses in here.”
Welcome to my funeral.
Kieran leads the way, and I follow him through the door frame, shutting the door behind me in hopes of drowning out the incoming screaming.
“Sit down.” Like robots, we follow Coach’s instructions and sit in the worn-down office chairs. “What the hell happened out there today?”
He stands from his desk so he can look down onto us—making us feel small. Even if Kieran and I were to stand, Coach still towers over us. He’s like a goddamn skyscraper. I always wondered why he never played basketball when he was younger. I feel like that would’ve suited him so much better than hockey.
“So are either of you going to start talking or are you just going to sit there with your hands in your pockets?” His eyes scan between the two of us as we sit here silently, shitting our pants.
I pipe up first. “Sorry, Coach, I was having a bad game an—”
“A bad game!? Your defense was shit today, Shepherd. You looked like a ballerina with the amount of times you spun around. You couldn’t keep up with a single player and normally you are one of the fastest on the team. You let us down today.”
Fuck, I hate it when he takes the disappointed route.
“And you. ” His eyes dart in Kieran’s direction. “Sure, Jake let the puck get past him, but you are supposed to be our best. For fuck’s sake, you’re our star goalie, Danford. You let in three shots before the end of the second period. I expected more from you, what the hell is going on?”
Kieran’s face is stone cold, no expression or thought visible on his face. He’s a very closed-off guy; someone who rarely shows emotion unless it’s around his friends, but he’s always honest with Coach Wilson. Seeing him act this way makes me wonder if there’s something else going on in his life that he’s not telling me or any of the guys.
Kieran grips the armrest of the chair and lets out a sigh, still not looking Coach in the eye. “Nothing, Coach, it won’t happen again.”
Coach Wilson sighs and slumps back into his chair. “Look, you two are both very talented players. I’m only getting on you because we have scouts coming next weekend and I want the two of you, especially you”—he points at Kieran—“to be on your A game. Some of the guys on the team didn’t get drafted, so this will be a great opportunity for all of you. Whatever made you two play like shit today, figure it out before next weekend or we will be having an entirely different conversation.”
Shit. I know I already have a contract, but it still lights a fire under my ass. Kieran hasn’t been signed to a team, but he doesn’t even know if he wants to go professional. This has been my dream since I held a stick for the first time. I always knew that I wanted to play for the NHL and become a hockey legend, but that won’t be attainable if I continue to play like an idiot.
If New Jersey sees that I’m playing like shit, they could choose to not sign me once I’m done college. I need to make sure that I’m playing my best in case they do decide that and I’m left without a contract. I need to stand out to scouts so if I become a free agent, someone will hopefully pick me up.
I look over to Kieran, his face still blank, like Coach’s words had no effect on him. We haven’t talked much about Kieran’s plans after school. Anytime one of the guys brings up where we want to play, he just brushes it off. It’s almost as if he still doesn’t have a clue about what he wants out of life. But hey, who says you need to have your life figured out at twenty-one?
“Get out. Go home. I’ll see the two of you at practice on Tuesday.” He waves us off with his hand, I stand up and grab Kieran by the collar of his shirt, and we both move our asses, shuffling out the door.
I can’t say that I’m not a little relieved Coach didn’t reem us in too hard.I thought he would rip into us a little harder, but I won’t complain that we got off easy. I kind of want to know what made Kieran so spaced out today. I’ve seen this guy play hungover multiple times, but there was something off about him.
Eli clasps his hands on mine and Kieran’s shoulders. “You guys are lucky, I thought Coach was going to eat you two alive.”
“I was betting that he would throw his clipboard, so now I owe Eli five bucks.” Nate pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and slides the bill into Eli’s hand.
I drag my hand down my face, taking a minute to process. “No, he decided to use the disappointment card on us today.” I grab my bag from the hallway and lead the way out of the arena. “C’mon, let’s go get food. I’m starving.”
The parking lot is mostly empty, only a few cars littering the pavement. Kieran unlocks his truck and I toss both of our bags into the trunk as Eli and Nate pile theirs into Nate’s SUV.
I’m glad Kieran normally offers to drive us to games and practices because I can barely fit in my Jeep with just my bag. Imagining the two of us with all of our gear in my 2006 Jeep Wrangler…yeah, it just wouldn’t work. Our bags would have to be strapped to the roof.
“So where should we go?” I lean against the passenger door, waiting for someone to suggest somewhere to go.
Eli chimes in first. “We could go to the diner or to Outlaw Roadhouse.”
Nate shakes his head. “No, I went there the other day with a few of the guys and my stomach is still recovering.”He holds his stomach as if he can still feel the pain.
The four of us bicker back and forth, suggesting restaurants only to be turned down by each other. It feels like I’m trying to convince my sister to go out. Anytime my family wanted to go out for dinner, Autumn would always be the most indecisive.
I should give her a call soon and check in on everyone.
Finally, Nate takes control of the conversation. “If we can all agree to go to Wing Shack, I’ll pay for everyone just so you all shut up.” There’s a reason we call him Daddy Nate.
We all respond at the same time.“Deal.”
Kieran and I follow Nate and Eli the whole way to the restaurant, and I shoot my parents a text letting them know how the game went. Per usual, Mom tells me not to dwell on the negative and Dad offers words of encouragement.
I wish they could come to more of my games, but they’re always tied up at home—whether my sister has a dance recital or they’re both stuck at work.
My mom is always at her flower shop, putting together these intrinsic bouquets that people come from all over to buy. She has one of the most successful shops in Cape Cod. Dad has his own construction company that he built from the ground up, so he’s normally dealing with a million and one things. He used to always say that his business feels like a third child, and sometimes it feels like he puts a lot of attention on it. I can’t complain because he gave our family everything we’ve ever asked for.
We pull into the restaurant faster than expected. We may have casually raced down the road, seeing who could get there first. Somehow Nate always wins. Even though Kieran’s truck can pick up speed like it’s a feather, Nate is quick and smooth with his driving.
The restaurant isn’t super packed for a Saturday, which is refreshing. Our waitress brings over our drinks while we wait for our food. There’s something about having a big dinner after a game. I could easily eat five pounds of wings after working out.
I take a sip of my Coke, the sweet taste bringing me back to summers in Cape Cod. My mom would always stock the fridge full of pop but then refuse us from having any until at night.I guess I’m a little thankful for that because now I don’t find myself addicted to drinking carbonated drinks all day.
Kieran is sitting in the corner of the booth, paying no attention to Nate, who’s been lecturing us for the past five minutes on our game play. It never feels good to have your captain rip into you for playing badly, but we played really fucking badly today. So if Nate needs to release all of his pent-up stress by talking to us, you bet your ass I’m going to let him.
“I just don’t get it, Kieran. What’s with you, man? You were perfectly fine this summer during camp, but since the actual season started, you’ve been off your game.” Nate takes on multiple roles with our team. Captain. Dad. Therapist. We should probably pay him for everything he does for us.
Kieran finally peels his eyes off the table to take a sip of his beer and shrugs. “I’ve been dealing with family stuff, so my head has been a little cloudy. Sorry if my family issues cost us the game.” His tone is laced with sarcasm, as if he doesn’t care that we just had our first loss of the season.
If there’s some family drama going on in his life, that’s never good. After his parents died, his uncle became legally responsible for him. I know he doesn’t like to visit his uncle often, since he and his dad are twins. Were twins. It’s hard for him to see his dad’s face, even if it really isn’t his dad.
Nate’s face immediately softens. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Kieran fixes his posture, now sitting up straighter. “No. It’s honestly nothing, I just let it get to me today.” He stares at Nate before averting his eyes back to the table. “I’m sorry we lost, I promise I’m fine.”
Nate’s jaw is as solid as stone as he gives Kieran the biggest stare down I’ve seen. He knows that Kieran is purposefully keeping information from him. But Kieran isn’t one to share his feelings with us. It’s very rare that he even lets me into his life, but to bring Nate, Eli, and the rest of the guys into his life—he’s just too secretive for that.
Nate deems his response good enough and nods at Eli to take over the conversation so the awkward tension can die down.It’s a tactic they’ve always done.He starts the conversation, gets you talking even when it’s uncomfortable, and then he lets Eli swoop in and change the mood so you don’t feel like a complete bag of shit after dumping all your emotional trauma onto him. It’s almost like a weird version of good cop, bad cop.
“So, Jake, are we ever going to talk about what happened last weekend or are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room?” And sometimes Eli likes to pry too.
“Yeah, my sister mentioned something may have happened between you and a little brunette who just so happens to work with our team.” Nate raises an eyebrow at me.
Fuck.
“Oh look, our food.” Our waitress saves my ass as she walks up to the table carrying a tray full of chicken wings.
I’m silently grateful for her presence. She takes a moment to put down the mass amount of food we ordered: four orders of wings, three orders of fries, and an order of jalapeno poppers.
I plop one of the small fried sticks in my mouth as Nate asks, “So back to the conversation, are you going to tell us what happened or leave us to our own imaginations?”
“And you know how dirty my imagination is. Is that really what you want? You want me to picture Vanessa all naked an—”
I don’t let Eli finish his sentence before I have his shirt fisted in my hands. “First off, it’s none of your fucking business, and secondly, keep Vanessa out of your perverted thoughts Murphy…or you won’t like what happens.”
Eli plucks my hands off his shirt and pretends to dust himself off. “Mm-hm, they’re definitely screwin’ around.”
The boys chuckle at my quick defense, easily showing them my cards.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”I force myself to take a bite of a wing, now feeling like I lost my appetite thinking of that whole situation.
As if they can’t tell already by my facial expressions, Nate continues to pick at me. “Do you like her or something? Is the notorious slut, Jacob Shepherd, finally smitten by someone?”
“Smitten? What are you, eighty?” Eli smacks his arm.
I rest my head in my hands; this is not a conversation I want to be having. Mainly because I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what they hell is going on between us.I feel like a broken record going over it again and again.
Do I have feelings for Vanessa? Maybe. But she doesn’t seem to have much interest in me other than being my friend, so I won’t take it any further. If she wants something more, the ball is in her court.
Or the puck is in her stick.
Okay, no, that just sounds wrong. Dad joke gone bad.
All I know is that seeing her the other night all cozy with Levi has a knot in my gut.
“No, I’m not smitten, Grandpa. I’m still the same old Jake that you all know and love.” That’s a lie, but I don’t want the guys to think that I’m obsessing over someone. Especially someone who’s turned me down more than once.
“Prove it then. Because I haven’t seen slutty Jake since that night at Shakers with Caroline.” Nate knows exactly how I feel—it’s like a damn superpower—and he knows that I won’t turn down a dare. “Go over to that girl sitting at the bar and get her number. If you get it, then we know that you’re still the same old Jake.”
Okay, this is easy—I can get a girl’s number in my sleep.
“Fine.” I pry the remainder of meat off my chicken bone and wipe my hands on my napkin before getting up.
The guys all have their attention fixed on me as I saunter over to the bar. The girl in question has honey-blonde hair down to her waist, and the tiniest pair of denim shorts I’ve ever seen someone wear in public.
Isn’t October too cold for shorts?
“Hey, how’s it going?” She looks at me, unamused, with her big lips tight in a straight line.
Okay, not a strong start, but I can fix this. “Do you go to BCU?”
“Yeah.” She pauses, looking me over once more before her eyes get big as if she’s recognized me. “Do you play on the hockey team?”
“Yeah, Jake Shepherd. Nice to meet you, are you a hockey fan?” I extend my hand and shake hers. It’s a move I pull on girls that seems to work every time. For some reason, they never expect a guy to shake their hand—it throws them off guard every time, and then I swoop in with my undeniably good charm.
“Didn’t you guys lose your game tonight?”
Ouch.
“Uh—yeah.”
“Damn, that sucks.”
God, I do not want to be having this conversation right now. I’m not even slightly interested in this girl, and I’m just wasting both of our time.
“Anyway, my friend over there”—I point at Eli, who’s too focused on his chicken wing to notice—“he wanted me to ask you for your number.”
Eli told me that I had to get her number. He never said that it had to be for me.
“Really?” She looks over my shoulder and eyes Eli. “Oh, he’s cute. Yeah, you can give him my number.”She grabs my phone out of my hand, immediately adding her number into my contacts. Hannah, with a purple heart.
Yeah, she seems like the type to give herself an emoji next to her name.
“Great, thanks. He’ll be stoked.”
I turn back around and head back to the booth. The guys focus their attention back on me as I slide back into my spot, my phone unlocked in my hand with the screen on her contact info.
“See. I’m still the same old Shep. Nothing has changed.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, the blonde from the bar appears at our table.
Oh fuck me.
“I’ll be waiting for your call.” She winks at Eli, who looks dumbfounded for a second. He finally acknowledges the girl, giving her a nod.
As soon as she gets out of earshot, the boys stop stifling their laughter.
Eli immediately starts laughing. “I can’t…believe.” His laughter takes over again. “You have no game, brother.”
“Nothing has changed, my ass. Something is definitely going on with you.” Nate shakes his head then takes a sip of his drink as Kieran and Eli continue to howl in hysterics.
“Fuck you guys,” I mumble before downing the rest of my Coke.