Chapter 4
Jamie
Her face twists in disgust, causing a smirk to grow on my face. She’s clearly pissed off, and my nonchalant attitude is making her blood boil even more. A strand of her blonde hair falls into her face as she looks between the Dean and me, looking completely appalled.
Dean Ashby must realize Ellie’s about to blow because he begins to reassure her.
“There are plenty of rooms in the house. No need to share one,” he says, his tone soft and careful, as if he’s trying not to set her off.
I know there’s a shit ton of rooms in this place, but I honestly wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with little Miss Priss.
I can’t tell if she even recognizes me. It’s been years.
I mean, she looks incredibly angry, but that could be because she also wasn’t aware that she’d have a housemate. What are the fucking chances that I take a job at the one place my ex-girlfriend is working at? I knew she went to school here, but I had no idea she was also an employee. It’s like the universe said, ‘screw you, man”, and threw me to the wolves. And by wolves, I mean Ellie Monroe. The one that got away.
More like the one I dumped because I thought my career was more important than my relationship with her. To be fair, it was senior year of high school, and I was going into the NHL. She couldn’t honestly expect that we’d go off to school together and live happily ever after at eighteen, right? But the way she’s glaring at me says that might be exactly what she thought.
Her complexion pales when I make eye contact with her, her weight shifting from one leg to the other uncomfortably. I can tell she has no idea how to proceed, and yet she has so much to say. This is going to be fun.
Am I pissed that I wasn’t aware of a roommate? Hell yeah, I am. That wasn’t part of the deal. I never agreed to a fucking roommate. In fact, it took a lot of begging on Mr. Ashby’s part to even get me here in the first place.
Being a coach for a college hockey team was not on my bucket list.
I’m Jamie fucking Patterson, a right winger for the Rhode Island Storm, one of the greatest teams in the NHL. There’s no reason I should be teaching ungrateful douchebags how to play hockey.
Ellie’s eyes roam my body until they stop right at my knee where a black brace wraps around it, making it possible for me to stand upright. Right, that’s why I’m here. Her eyes shoot back up to my face, her cheeks reddening at being caught.
“I’m going to settle in. I have a lot to prepare for my first class on Monday. Thank you, Dean Ashby, for showing me around.” She picks up her bags and begins to head for the stairs. Before heading up, she turns around and looks at the Dean. “I expect this issue to be resolved as soon as possible.”
With that, she disappears up the stairs, leaving me and the Dean standing in the kitchen. He clears his throat and fixes his tie before turning to me. I’ve never met Martin Ashby, but something tells me he’s not usually this unsure of himself. He strikes me as the type of asshole who grew up wealthy and never struggled a day in his life. Someone who expects people to fear him. Well, I don’t fear anybody, so if he expects to be able to run over me, he’s dead wrong.
Ellie didn’t seem to be afraid of him, and I wonder if that’s because he was her dean for four years or he’s in her father’s pocket. I’m not an idiot, I know what her family does. Or did, I’m not sure if that’s still going on or not.
In high school, though, I pretended I didn’t know there was something off about her father and the wealth he had. I pretended that Ellie’s family was perfectly normal.
But I knew there was something off with them the minute I stepped foot into her world.
“I’m truly sorry about this misunderstanding, Mr. Patterson. This is not how I wanted your first impression of our wonderful school to be. I am working on getting this remedied immediately,” Dean Ashby tells me.
I believe he’ll do what he can, but I don’t know if I’m in a rush for him to figure it out. This might not be ideal, and I may have been a bit aggravated at first, but it’s Ellie. Having her as a housemate could either be insanely distracting or incredibly entertaining.
“Don’t worry about it, Martin. It is what it is,” I assure him. He nods graciously.
“Are you ready to start this weekend? The boys are excited to have you,” he smiles. I’m sure they are. A famous hockey player coming in to take over as coach? What guy wouldn’t be excited about that? These little pricks have no idea what’s coming.
I’ve never coached a team before, but I’ve been playing hockey since I learned how to walk. I know everything there is to know about the damn sport, and I know what it takes to make it to the big leagues.
If they think daddy’s money and a pretty face is going to get them to the NHL, they have another thing coming.
“Yep, I’m looking forward to getting up and running. Are they good?” Ashby grimaces before regaining his composure.
“They’re okay. But they need to be great. Our lacrosse and rugby teams have been performing exceedingly well, and our hockey team needs to meet that same standard of excellence. Other schools are laughing at us, and I won’t let that stand. Those boys need to be whipped into shape, and fast. I know you’re going to help get us there, Mr. Patterson.”
With that, he pats my shoulder before turning and heading out of the kitchen. When I hear the door click shut behind him, I exhale a deep breath. I remove my jacket, setting it on the back of a chair at the outrageously large island. Pulling a water bottle from the fully stocked fridge, I rest against the counter as I take a sip.
When Martin Ashby called me and offered me this position, I laughed. I couldn’t believe he thought I’d want to coach. I’ve never taught anything. I’ve never been good enough at anything to be able to teach it. Hockey though? I can play some damn hockey.
A few hours later, I’m lying in bed watching a rerun of some shitty sitcom when I hear a floorboard creak from outside my door. Ellie’s been so quiet, I’d almost forgotten she was even here.
Deciding to check it out, I climb out of bed, careful not to put too much weight on my bad knee and open my door a crack. Ellie walks down the hall to what I assume is her chosen room, wearing a fucking robe. Her hair is wrapped in a white towel on top of her head. All I can see are her legs. Her long, tan, freshly shaved legs. Legs that were once wrapped around my…
Jesus, Jamie. Get your head out of your ass. This is the first time I’ve seen her since we were eighteen. I didn’t think it was possible for her to get any hotter, but here we are. When I saw her standing in the kitchen, I’ll admit I didn’t recognize her right away.
Her blonde hair passes her shoulders now; she always kept it at her shoulders. Her eyes somehow look even greener, and her body has filled out in all the right places. My god, she looks like a dream. So different yet exactly the same. Although the attitude is new.
I take a small step closer, and my damn knee betrays me, giving out under my weight and causing me to tip forward. I grab onto the door frame trying to steady myself, but the noise must have attracted Ellie because she stops in front of her door to face me. She holds a mug in her hands, the robe is tied tightly around her waist, and her expression is both curious and pissed off. Shit.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks accusingly. “Were you watching me?”
Straightening, I lean against the door frame and try to act as if my heart isn’t pounding out of my chest. I didn’t mean for her to see me, but now my cover is blown. I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No,” I say simply. Obviously, we both know it’s a lie. Ellie rolls her eyes, and I feel my dick swell a bit at the action. Who knew I liked a woman with attitude? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I haven’t been celibate all these years. I was in the NHL for Christ’s sake.
I slept with my fair share of beautiful women, but none of them stuck out to me. I didn’t have time for a girlfriend, and I never let myself get distracted. Hockey came first, and it still does. Women are a distraction, and any distraction could take me away from my goal, which is to heal my knee and get back to my team.
When the injury happened, the doctors told me I’d probably never play again. With a Medial Collateral Ligament tear, it was already risky. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t ignored it for weeks and kept playing through the pain. The team doctor told me it was stupid and reckless to continue playing with this sort of injury, and our coach was absolutely furious.
When they told me I would have to have surgery and I’d be out for months, if I can even return, I threw a chair at the wall of coach’s office. I’ll admit, it wasn’t my finest moment. However, being told you can’t play the sport you’ve lived for your whole life can be jarring.
Ellie uses her free hand to tighten her robe. “Then why are you standing in the doorway like a creeper?”
“I heard something, wanted to check it out,” I say, which isn’t completely a lie. I did hear something, but I knew it had to be her. What else would it be?
She takes a few steps closer until I can smell her floral shampoo and fruity body wash. My mouth waters at the thought of running my tongue up her thighs and tasting her… God, I haven’t gotten laid in a while.
“You need to leave,” she demands, stone-faced.
I’m taken aback by her bluntness. I wasn’t expecting her to say that, and I honestly don’t know how to reply. I don’t want to leave, not now. Now that I know she wants me gone.
“Can’t do that, sweetheart.”
Her eyes never leave mine. She’s staring me down so intensely, I’m not sure what she’s thinking. It honestly looks like she’s ready to murder me, but that can’t be. Sweet little innocent Ellie, she couldn’t hurt a fly. She’s always been quiet and reserved, except when she’s on stage. That’s where she thrives, or at least, she used to. I haven’t kept up with what she’s done since high school. Okay, that’s a lie. I thought about her more than I should have after the breakup. I’m the one that broke it off, but I still loved her. I just knew I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be at that time.
“And why not?” she asks, her brows furrowing together, making her look more cute than intimidating, which is what she’s trying to be.
“I have a job to do. Gotta whip this hockey team into shape, according to Ashby.”
“Why are you here, Jamie?”
“I just told you. I’m coaching the—” she cuts me off.
“I don’t mean here. I mean, why are you at Ellington? Why aren’t you with your fancy hockey team and your fancy friends, with your fancy new cars and girls?”
Is that a hint of jealousy I hear in her tone? It can’t be, right? It’s been years, and she told me she hated me.
“Injury. Can’t play. Ashby called a few weeks ago after word spread that I was on medical leave. Said he needed a new hockey coach and knew I was local. I told him no at first, but my mom convinced me it’ll give me something to keep my mind off things.”
Ellie rolls her eyes. “You knew I went here for college.”
“It’s been years since you graduated, Ellie. How could I have known you’d be here now?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve been stalking me or something,” she shrugs. I laugh at the thought. I may have kept tabs on her, but I wouldn’t say I was stalking. At first, I didn’t think about her or us at all. I left, signed to the Storm, fucked my way through puck bunnies, and had a blast. I took it all in, the fame, the money, the girls. Ellie was my first love. Hockey was my life. It is my life, and that took precedence over everything else.
“I was too busy to stalk you, sweetheart.”
“Was it worth it?” she asks, her tone as sharp as a knife.
My brows furrow. “Was what worth it?”
“Leaving me behind. Was it worth it?”
Is she seriously asking me if going to the fucking NHL was worth it? Hell, yes it was worth it. I put everything I had into this god damn sport. I spent my whole life dreaming about getting to where I’m at now. Well, maybe not where I am at this very second because the way Ellie’s looking at me is actually kind of scary.
“Ellie, you can’t be serious.” Her expression turns to one of regret, as if she’s realizing that she’s not being logical.
“I’m sorry. I know the NHL was your dream. I’m glad you got there. You worked incredibly hard. I just… I wish I could have been there.”
A sharp pain makes its way through my chest as guilt settles in my stomach like a weight. I really did love her, but we were kids. I would have never made it if she were with me. She wanted a family, kids and a dog, and white picket fence. I would have given everything up for her and I knew I couldn’t do that. Not after all the work I’d put in. My dad would have killed me if he were alive.
I never thought I’d see her again, let alone be living with her. This was not something either of us could have seen coming. I never thought I’d have to face what I did again. The way I left things was shitty, even I know that. I was a complete asshole, and I could’ve gone about it completely differently. Yet, I didn’t, and I broke her heart.
She looks down at her feet, and when she looks back up, I can see the tears forming in her eyes. Fuck, I didn’t want her to cry.
“You just left. You left without a word. I woke up and you were gone. We had dinner, fell asleep under the stars, and then poof. Four years gone, without an explanation. What was I supposed to think?” Fuckkk. I really am a piece of shit.
“I was immature. I should have talked to you. I should have, I know. But it was easier to just disappear…”
Tears stream down her cheeks freely now, and I can tell she’s pissed at herself for crying. She’s always been a ‘cry when she’s angry’ kind of girl.
“Easier for you…” she mumbles lowly while looking me in the eyes. Shaking her head softly, she turns around and begins to walk away. Part of me wants to beg her to stay. I feel like there’s so much more I need to say, but I know nothing’s changed. I still can’t be with her, and she’s better off without me.
“Ellie,” I call after her before I can stop myself. She freezes but doesn’t turn around. “I’m sorry.”
Without a word, she walks to her room, opens the door and slams it shut.
Well, fuck.