Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Mollie
Aweek later, I'm essentially living with a ghost. Thorne is avoiding me. Coming home late, leaving early, doing extra volunteer work and sponsorships just to be out of the house. It's got to be exhausting for him.
I’m fine with it. Great, actually. Since the morning after the cabin —when I woke up alone in Thorne's bed and spent twenty minutes there cataloguing every single way I'd torched my own rule the night before —that’s what I’ve been telling myself.
A hockey player kissed me. I kissed him.
But he still turned me away.
My hockey boy rule exists for a reason. And I walked straight through it like it wasn't even there.
The worst part, the part I keep turning over, is that I don't regret it.
All I want is to do it again. That's exactly the kind of thinking that turns women into supporting characters in someone else's story.
So Thorne avoiding me is fine.
It's good. The universe is doing me a favor.
In the meantime, I drag myself to work every day.
Everything outside work is confusing and tense since I kissed Thorne on the Fourth of July. But things at work have literally never been better.
First, my videos of Thorne have been a huge hit online.
Maybe it's just because the fans are hungry for content since it's the off season.
But one particular ten-second reel of Thorne grinning as he fires a shot seemingly right at you has gone super viral.
More than 2.5 million views on TikTok alone.
The virality alone was worth me falling on my ass to get the shot.
"Holy shit." Juliet sets her phone down on her desk. "The tickets for the first handful of preseason games were languishing. Then you posted this video and they were gone like that." She snaps her fingers. "What kind of magic did you work and will it require human sacrifice to do more of it?"
My heart soars. Juliet is my supervisor and I've never gotten such direct praise from her before. It feels so good.
"No sacrifice. The camera loves Thorne."
Juliet's lips thin as she pins me with a stare. "Was it his idea to film him shooting right at you? Or was it yours?"
"It was mine." I feel heat climbing my cheeks. "I'm not saying that I had zero hand in it. But you know. Virality is..." I gesture. "Unquantifiable, unpredictable. There is no right formula."
"Whatever you're doing? Do it more." Juliet pushes away from her desk. "Sorry, I have lunch today with Hunter."
Tiny Juliet's monstrously tall defenseman of a husband is waiting in the doorway when I turn around. I startle, and he crosses his arms. Which, like, hello, welcome to the gun show.
"We have a reservation,” he grates out.
"It’s our half anniversary.” She smiles and explains, “He likes to go all out for every single milestone. We're all done here anyway, aren't we?"
I nod and stand up. "Yup. Absolutely."
"Thanks. Mollie." Juliet crooks a finger at Hunter. "Now come here and give your wife a kiss."
"Always," he says, ambling past me toward her desk.
I head out, but not before I catch Hunter leaning down and kissing Juliet with obvious hunger. I blush again.
They're allowed to kiss. They're married and everybody knows it. But I've heard that this time a year-and-a half-ago, they were faking their relationship for the press. It's funny, because they are clearly so into each other. They're certainly not faking anything now.
I get home from work in the middle of the afternoon. Apparently, just in time to catch Thorne hanging out in the living room, a baseball game on the big screen. He doesn't notice me at first, giving me a chance to skulk behind the couch and peek at him.
I really am a stalker.
He's all laid out, his arms folded behind his head, colorful tattoos and droolworthy biceps on full display. He's wearing a snug white T-shirt and black basketball shorts. A strip of his equally hubba hubba abs is visible where his shirt rides up. His eyes are closed.
Is he asleep? I sneak closer, admiring his dark eyelashes on his suntanned cheeks and his strong Roman nose.
It's never been broken on the ice, which is amazing. Most of the hockey players I know have noses like pro boxers. He has a faint scar on his upper lip, a faded sign that he was once hurt. I’ve seen him take a couple of punches that made his mouth bleed, but it's still weird to think that the great and mighty Alexander Thorne isn't untouchable.
It makes me think of how he laid out Brad for hassling me. Equal parts hot and sweet.
He opens his eyes and sits up so fast that we nearly bash heads.
"Jesus, Squeak!" He frowns and scoots back. "Nice stealth mode."
"Sorry. I was trying to figure out if you were asleep." That's only partially a lie.
He stands up, stretching. That tempting line of skin flashes at me again, then it's gone. He hits a button on the remote.
"I gotta go," he says and starts to head upstairs.
"Where?"
He waves me off. "I have a thing."
"A thing?"
"Yep. See you around." He hits the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Right. Ever since we kissed, he's been absent as much as possible. At least when we were bickering, that was some sort of relationship. He was mean to me... but he acknowledged my existence.
Now his presence is remote. Not icy, but aloof,
Sighing, I text Beck, asking how Rosie is doing and if they're ready for a visitor. It's been a while. And maybe we can hatch a better housing plan for me while I get to hang out with the world's coolest kid.
Beck doesn't respond right away. That's fine, I didn't really expect him to.
Gordie thumps his tail at me from his dog bed on the floor of the living room. When I make myself a bowl of yogurt and berries for lunch, he comes trotting in, sniffing the air.
"Here." I flip a blueberry in the air. He catches it with ease and snuffles around on the floor, looking for more. "Never enough for you, huh?"
Gordie’s amber eyes scan me. After a second, he gives up and pads back to his bed.
"Just like your dad," I grouse. "Next thing I know, you'll be spending all your time in Thorne's bedroom."
Thorne slams the front door on his way out. I look down and swallow the confusing emotions I'm feeling. I have no right to want more from Thorne. He's made that clear as day.
Actually, Thorne said that he wanted me, but he can’t have me. Because I’m his teammate, and possibly best friend’s, little sister. So basically Thorne likes everything about me but my brother.
Great. Just great.
I shouldn't be feeling so comfortable in Thorne’s space. This is not my home. It's temporary. I scrolled apartment ads on Zillow for less than a minute yesterday. But I found nothing in the same price range that I used to pay at my old apartment. Maybe I need to widen my search.
Or look for a roommate. I’m about to meet up with Indie, so maybe she’s looking for a roommate or knows someone who is.
Whistling to Gordie, I put on his leash and head outside. Indie is hanging out at the end of the dock, looking mournfully at the gate keypad.
"Hey!" I open the gate and step through.
"Oh, thank god you're here!" She hugs me, then kneels to greet Gordie. "I was starting to despair."
"Never fear. Your saviors are here!" I wiggle the leash and Indie smiles.
"So?" She starts down the walking path beside me. "How have things been this week? Life has been super hectic the last few days and I haven't heard a peep from you."
"Yeahhhh." I blow out a breath as Gordie stops to sniff something. "Honestly? Not great."
Indie slides me a look. "Because of Thorne? Or because your work has been stressful?"
"Work is great this time of year. We have time to breathe and plan for the upcoming season. I've also had a few viral TikToks."
"I saw the one with Thorne rushing down the ice toward the camera. That one had like a million views when I checked." She purses her lips. "So if work is good, that means Thorne is the problem?"
"Unfortunately." I bury my face in my hands. "I haven't told you some stuff."
Indie's eyes light up. "Did you two bang like a screen door in a hurricane?"
"What?" I tug on the leash, pulling Gordie from a pile of trash. "No, god. But we did... maybe... kiss."
"Okay, tell me everything. Leave out nothing."
I tell her the basics of that night as I remember them. When I finish, she's nodding her head like she expected this.
"You two have a vibe." She cuts me a look, smirking. "He looks at you like he's dying of thirst and you're a tall glass of lemonade."
"What? He does not."
"It's true. I bet if you told any of your friends that work for the team—like Jessa or Juliet—about Thorne kissing you, they would say the same thing."
"Yeah. I mean… maybe,” I answer with a shrug.
Gordie tugs on the leash, sniffing a flowering tree. Indie pets him idly, cocking her head.
"Are you saying that you've never crushed on Thorne? Because that seems crazy."
Heat climbs up my neck and colors my cheeks. "I... uh... didn't think anybody knew."
"And I'm telling you now that you're not sneaky. Neither is he."
I scoff. "Thorne doesn't have a secret crush on me. Omigod. He's a famous professional hockey player." I wave my hand. "You should see how many women throw themselves at him."
I don’t mention the fact that he told me if I weren’t related to his best friend, he would’ve pushed things beyond a kiss. That’s a special little nugget that I lock away forever.
"If you say so." Indie shrugs. "But I think you're wrong."
We start walking again, talking about the next time Indie might be able to get into the arena. I promise to clear it with Juliet. Indie starts telling me how her roommate's new drag persona is Bianca Del Raunchy. We both crack up.
Then I feel a distinct pang of pain in my left ankle. "Fuck." I slow down, bending to rub it. I've been relatively pain-free today and haven't thought at all about bringing ibuprofen out on my walk. "Do you mind if we park it on a bench for a minute? My ankle is misbehaving."
"Totally. Want some help getting there?"