Chapter Twenty-Nine Halloween
HADLEY
It’s been exactly fourteen days since Julian Wilder blew my entire world apart in a dark, cramped press office, and for fourteen days, he has treated me like I’m a ghost.
He didn't just back off this time…he completely vanished. The texts stopped. The few tentative messages I’ve sent him over the last two weeks have been met with single-word replies that felt like a door being slammed in my face.
It didn't help that the Night Hawks went on a grueling two-week away game stretch a few days after their opener.
The stadium has been a tomb. The few times I actually gathered enough courage to go down to the rink to skate, the ice was empty, leaving me alone with nothing but the echoing scrape of my blades and my own suffocating thoughts.
I’ve tried everything to shake the memory of his hands on my jaw, the brutal, possessive heat of his mouth, and the devastating way he looked at me right before he walked out.
I threw myself into my new routine, spending my mornings drowning in business and pre-law textbooks, and my afternoons either teaching skating classes or planning for them.
Nothing works. I can’t get him out of my mind. I miss him. It’s an ache in my chest that won’t leave me alone. A heavy, persistent weight that makes me feel more isolated than I did even when I was living across the Atlantic.
A part of me wonders if he regrets what happened, if he's disgusted by how easily his control shattered.
But deep down in my heart, I know that's not it.
I felt the desperation in his touch. He wants me.
I lie awake at night, terrified of losing him as a friend and a constant part of my life, while simultaneously aching for him to be so much more than a friend.
“You’re way overthinking this, Hads,” Lainey had groaned over the phone last night, exhausted by my agonizing.
Her solution, as always, was simple. “He’s a guy.
A big, brooding, emotionally stunted hockey player who got scared because a pretty girl made his brain short-circuit.
You should just show up at his apartment and kiss him again until he forgets how to spell his own name. ”
I was too much of a coward. I was too afraid that if I pushed him, I’d look into his eyes and find out that the wall he built between us this time was too high for me to ever climb.
By the time October 31st rolls around, I’m mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted.
Still, the girls have invited me out for Halloween.
The guys are finally back in town. Everyone’s going to the Night Hawk for some annual Halloween party the bar throws.
I’m excited to go, but also nervous since it’ll be the first time I’ll see Julian face-to-face since Boston.
I’m not sure what I’ll say to him, but I’m not going to let him keep avoiding me.
I’m staring at my bedroom ceiling when my phone buzzes on my mattress. Then it buzzes again. And again.
THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY BITCHES
Stacey: Hadley emergency. SOS. The world is ending, and I have zero concept of time management. If you aren't at Grace’s apartment in twenty minutes, I am going to have a literal stroke.
Rylee: By stroke, she means she tried to do winged eyeliner and ended up looking like a raccoon who survived a house fire.
Stacey: I AM IN CRISIS MY EYEBALLS ARE BLACK HOLES. Hadley please. Bring your steady surgical hands. I’ll provide the tequila.
Sutton: She’s not kidding, Hads, she looks unhinged. Get over here. We are extracting you from your depression cave tonight whether you like it or not. Code Red.
Stacey: Code Red!!
A tiny, breathless laugh escapes my throat.
It’s the first real one in days. Looking at the screen, I don't give myself a single second to overthink it.
I don't let myself wonder if Julian will be at the party, or what I'll do if I see him.
I just type out a quick On my way, throw my bag over my shoulder, and leave.
“Hadley, hold still! If you keep moving, this eyeliner is going to end up in your eyebrow,” Rylee mutters, leaning over the back of the sofa with a liquid liner brush held like a weapon.
“Sorry,” I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut. Doing someone’s make-up is one thing. Stacey looks gorgeous thanks to my help, if I do say so myself. Having someone do mine is a whole different ballgame.
Grace’s living room is absolute, unadulterated chaos.
It looks like a bomb went off in a theatrical costume shop.
Faux-fur rabbit ears, fishnet stockings, pink lip gloss, and half-empty glasses of champagne are scattered across every available surface.
The plan the girls came up with is hilariously literal.
We are going out as “puck bunnies,” complete with white fluffy tails, satin ears, and oversized Night Hawks jerseys.
For the first time in two weeks, the constant noise in my head because of Julian somewhat quiets.
The sheer, vibrant energy of the girls is infectious, and I’ll forever be grateful that I’m friends with this group.
I let Grace tease my hair, and I laugh when Sutton accidentally drops a contour brush down the front of her bra.
The oversized jersey with Julian’s name and number falls to my thighs, tiny bike shorts beneath giving me a bit of modesty without taking away from the appeal of the costume.
My bunny ears are tucked securely into my curls, and my tail peeks out from beneath the back of my jersey.
I look bold and sexy. Like someone who takes risks.
Knowing the name Wilder is printed along my back, a sudden wave of heat rushes to my face.
My fingers trace the heavy fabric, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Wearing this jersey is a big deal, and I know it.
It’s the same jersey I’d been wearing two weeks ago when his control shattered, and he kissed me.
Putting it back on tonight feels like playing with fire.
“Oh, wow,” Rylee grins, pausing in the doorway, makeup brush in hand. The room goes quiet as the rest of the girls turn to look at me.
Grace stops her frantic pacing, her eyes widening as she takes in the name on my back. “You’re wearing Wilder’s? Hadley, I thought you were going to grab one of the blank fan jerseys from the stadium closet.”
“I…well, the stadium ones were all the wrong size,” I lie, my voice squeaking as I try to pull the jersey down to cover more of my legs. “And I already had this one, so…you know. Convenient. That’s all.”
Sutton raises an eyebrow, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “Right. Well, good luck to any guy who tries to buy you a drink tonight, Hads. They’ll be signing their own death warrant.”
Stacey walks into the room, frowning as she checks her phone. “Hey, has anyone heard from Skyler? She was supposed to be here an hour ago.”
“I texted her three times,” Rylee replies, stepping back to admire her handiwork on my face. “Perfect! You look cute as fuck, Hads. And, no, Sky isn't answering.”
Grace pauses. “That’s weird. Let me call Carson.”
We all quiet down a little. Grace puts her phone on speaker. It just rolls straight to voicemail. Then she tries Skyler again. Once more, voicemail.
“Okay, this isn't like her,” Grace murmurs, pacing a tight line across the rug, her hair bouncing against her shoulders. “Skyler is never late for getting-ready drinks. Especially not on Halloween.”
“Do you think something happened? Like her car broke down?” Stacey asks, leaning forward. “She was at her office today. The traffic heading toward downtown was absolute hell an hour ago. Maybe her battery died on the I-25?”
“No, she would have texted if she was stuck on the highway,” Rylee counters, flipping her phone over in her hand, her brow furrowed. “She lives on her phone. Unless...maybe she got sucked into an emergency crunch meeting at work? You know how those game developers get when a patch breaks.”
“On Halloween night? That would be downright criminal,” Sutton mutters. “Skyler would mount a full-blown rebellion. Did you try Carson again? If they’re together, he might have his phone on.”
“I tried him twice and Skyler three times. It went straight to voicemail for both of them. It went straight to voicemail both times,” Grace exclaims, her voice climbing an octave. “What if they got into an accident? What if some idiot blew a red light on their way over here?
“Grace, breathe,” I say, trying to inject a note of calm into the rising panic. A cold knot is beginning to tighten in my own chest. “Let's not jump to the worst-case scenario yet.”
“No, Hadley, you don't understand. I know my twin brother,” Grace insists, her fingers flying across her screen as she furiously types. “Carson never ignores my texts. If he’s twenty minutes late and his phone is dead, something is seriously wrong.” She stops pacing, staring at her screen with a pale face.
“That's it. I'm calling Jensen. The guys are already at the bar, so Carson should be there too.”
She pulls up Jensen’s contact, her thumb hovering over the dial button as she lets out a shaky breath.
Suddenly, Grace’s phone rings, the screen flashing Skyler.
Grace swipes it, answering so fast she nearly drops the phone. “Sky! Where the hell are you? We’ve been losing our minds…”
“There’s been a change of plans,” Skyler’s voice blares through the speaker.
She sounds breathless. Excited, almost.
Grace blinks, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean by a change of plans? We’re all sitting here in rabbit ears waiting for you!”
“We’re going to Vegas!” Skyler shrieks.
Everything in the room stops. Rylee drops a lipstick. Stacey freezes mid-champagne-sip.
“Wait, what?” Grace murmurs, her voice dripping with pure confusion. “Sky, what are you talking about? Who is 'we'?”
“Me and Carson. We’re going to the airport!
” Skyler’s voice explodes through the speaker, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush of adrenaline.
“Listen to me, Gracie, don't scream, but we talked about the whole massive wedding thing and the seating charts and the flowers, and we both wanted to throw up. So we’re just...we’re doing it!
Tonight! We are eloping to Vegas, baby!”
She takes a massive, theatrical gasp of air before continuing at a hundred miles an hour.
“If you want to see me marry your giant idiot brother in front of an Elvis impersonator, you need to throw some shit in a bag and get your asses to the airport right fucking now!”
The room erupts into a tidal wave of screaming, laughing, and panic.
“Vegas?” Grace shrieks into the phone, her knuckles turning white around her champagne glass.
“Skyler, wait…no! You can’t just buy a ticket to Nevada on Halloween night!
What about a dress? What is Carson wearing, a hockey jersey?
You don’t even have a veil! Tell him to turn the plane around right now, Skyler, you have to wait at least until tomorrow so I can find a tailor… ”
“Oh, sorry, Grace!” Skyler exclaims in a high-pitched voice. “Gotta go!”
A loud, definitive click echoes through the speaker as the call cuts out, followed by the drone of a dial tone. Skyler had hung up.
“She hung up on me!” Grace gasps, spinning around to face us, her perfectly applied eyeliner wide with horror. “My twin brother is getting married in a casino by an Elvis impersonator and his bride is wearing whatever she packed in a carry-on!”
“How are we even supposed to get to Vegas tonight?” Rylee asks, her voice rising as she looks down at her bunny ears. “Commercial flights are going to be completely booked solid for the holiday weekend. We’ll never make it before they sprint down the aisle.”
“Hold on,” Sutton says, her usual cool composure cracking as she pulls out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly. “I think I can fix this. Let me call Jayce.”
She hits speed dial, pressing the phone to her ear and pacing a tight line across the hardwood.
The second the line clicks open, Sutton loses her grip on her calm.
“Jayce! Oh my God, you need to listen to me right now.
Carson and Skyler are flying to Vegas to elope tonight.
Skyler doesn't even have a dress, Grace is having a literal aneurysm, and we have absolutely no way to get there, and everything is a complete disaster…”
“Sutton. Breathe.” Jayce’s voice cuts through the speaker, steady, deep, and unflappable. Even through the phone, his level-headed authority acts like a physical weight, dropping the temperature in the room. “Stop pacing, sweetheart. We’ve got this.”
Sutton stops in her tracks, letting out a shaky breath. “We do?”
“Yeah, we do. Nobody panic,” Jayce commands.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll call your folks right now and get their jet cleared, and I’ll get mine ready, too.
We can’t leave Denver until after practice tomorrow morning.
Coach will absolutely lose his mind if the whole roster goes MIA, especially with Carson already AWOL, but I can get you ladies out to Vegas tonight.
Give me twenty minutes. I’ll handle the flight plans and text you the hotel info. ”
Sutton blinks, a small, grateful smile softening her face. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Always, Starling. Go pack a bag. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon,” Jayce says before hanging up to work his magic.
“Holy shit. He’s like a magician,” Rylee whispers in awe.
“Yeah, and I’m lucky to be married to him.
” Sutton drops her phone into her lap and snaps back into mission mode, pointing a finger at Grace.
“Okay, you heard him. We’re going. Grace, text Carson right now.
Find out exactly where he and Skyler are planning to stay, and ask if they want us to book them a suite, too.
It’ll be a hell of a lot better if we’re all at the same hotel so we can keep an eye on them. ”
Just like that, the entire trajectory of our night flips on its head. Halloween is forgotten. Fluffy bunny ears are ripped off. We’re running on pure, unadulterated chaos.
“Oh my God, childcare,” Rylee gasps, freezing in the middle of the hallway. She turns a panicked look toward Stacey. “Stace, I’ve got a sitter for Ciara tonight, but she thinks it’s just for a few hours!”
“I’m already texting my nanny,” Stacey tells her, her thumbs flying across her phone’s screen.
“She’ll pull a double shift for the weekend if I double her rate.
Tell your sitter we’ll pay her to take Ciara over to my place so they can do a joint playdate-weekend thing.
I’ll also call Owen’s mom. We’ll make it work. Move, move, move!”
Before Rylee can answer, all of our phones start detonating simultaneously on the kitchen island.