42. THE ONE WITH THE HOCKEY GAME
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
THE ONE WITH THE HOCKEY GAME
ColumbusCobrasHockey posted a picture: @WestParkerComedy & @HexedHeroine are in the Snake Pit tonight! Don’t worry, West, we won’t hold the fact that you’re a Michigan fan against you!
WestParkerComedy commented: I’m only here because I have to be, but thanks for holding me hostage I guess
HexedHeroine commented: I love snakes!
WestParkerComedy comment reply: Hex, pls no I can’t
I’m washing my hands when my phone rings. I barely dry them before pulling it out of my pocket to find Frankie’s name on the screen.
The first thing that crosses my mind is, oh my god, is Joey okay? Until I remember she’s down the hall with Enzo, Kell, and a few extended friends inside the VIP box at the Columbus fucking Cobras arena.
Fuck the Cobras… Fuck Ohio.
I bring my phone to my ear. “Hiya, Frank.”
“You know what’s crazy?” She doesn’t say hello or wait for me to answer. “That I can just pick up my phone and call The Westifer Parker.” Her bubbly voice brings a smile to my face. This new elongated nickname has really stuck with her.
I lean against the bathroom door, the sound of cheering fans muffled, chuckling under my breath. “Well, The Westifer Parker would love to know what he can do for The Franceska Louise?”
If I were standing in front of Frankie, she’d be narrowing her eyes at me. “What? A girl can’t just call her friend and say hi?” A car honks in the background, and Frankie yells, “no, fuck you!” Followed by, “I hate New York City.”
“Why are you in New York?” I ask, still confused why she’s calling—not that I mind. Frankie and I are on similar wavelengths most of the time.
Poor Joey and Enzo…
“Music stuff,” she responds quickly, and I get the hint she doesn’t want to talk about it. “So, the reason I’m calling… Wait, shit! Aren’t you at the hockey game? Did you answer when Jo’s right next to you?” she groans.
“She’s not around,” I tell her, though I do have to keep the memory of us locked in a bathroom behind a door in my mind to focus on Frankie.
“Where are you?” she asks suspiciously.
I roll my eyes. “In the bathroom. Do you need to know what I’m wearing too?”
“Well, I know it’s not a Columbus Cobras jersey,” she answers dryly.
“Over my dead fucking body.”
Frankie laughs. “Okay, so, I’m going to assume Jo hasn’t mentioned her birthday is next week?”
“Of course not.” I do know it’s next week though, not because she’s directly told me, but because I’ve pieced it together by small clues Joey’s mentioned here and there.
Leave it to the mind behind HexedHeroine to be born on a Friday the 13th.
I wouldn’t expect it any other way. “She’s not as slick as she thinks though.
She’s dropped clues. You just gotta pretend like you’re solving a fucking riddle sometimes, but… ” I trail off.
There’s a pause, and I immediately regret telling Frankie I’m so obsessed with her best friend that I’ve been paying attention to everything Joey says about herself, hoping to learn more without letting her realize she’s opening up.
I mean, that’s not what I said, but that’s how Frankie interprets it. Because she knows Joey better than anyone on this planet, but I think I’m starting to know her in a way Frankie never will.
I see a side of her no one else gets.
Joey wants someone to pay attention without asking.
I think if she let herself, she might like having someone around to take care of her.
She can still be a badass independent woman and let someone give her a hug and surprise her with her favorite things when she’s having a bad day.
She’s just too stubborn, set in her ways, and some fucking dickwad named Dylan hurt her, to see it right now.
I said I was willing to wait. So I will.
“She doesn’t like big to-do’s,” Frankie finally says.
I nod and say, “I know.”
“I called to tell you not to let her feel forgotten, even if she’s the one who insists she doesn’t care about her birthday.” Frankie must be inside somewhere now, because the sound of the city behind her has quieted. “But I think you’ve got this handled.”
Frankie is such a good friend, and I know I’ve only known her and Joey for a few months, but I’m so glad to know they have each other. Even if this all blows up in our faces, Joey will always have someone who loves her in the quiet.
“It’s a Friday the 13th birthday, and the club in Cleveland already had an event booked.
” This is the one and only Friday we’ve had or will have off while on tour, and I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone but Joey anyway.
It makes it that much better we get to have an excuse to do all her favorite things.
“It’s the first birthday we’ve spent without each other since first grade.
” I hear the sadness in her voice, but she moves on too quickly for me to comment.
“I love Jo. She’s not just my best friend, she’s the sister the universe knew I needed.
” Frankie swallows, and I wish I could give her a hug.
I don’t think anyone’s realized how worried Frankie’s been about Joey.
“She loves her people so hard. Harder than anyone I know.” She sniffles, laughing at herself.
“But she doesn’t let people in because she’s afraid of being left again.
It’s not my business to tell you about her ex, but he’s not the first person to make her feel unlovable… He was just the last.”
I almost ask his last name, ready to show up at the motherfucker’s house and catch an assault charge, but Frankie says something that steals the words from my mouth.
“Give her some time, but only if you’re willing to stick around for however long it takes.
Joey deserves someone who’s going to love her in spite of her unhealed wounds. ”
There’s a knock on the bathroom door, but I ignore it. “Frankie, I’ll wait as long as Joey needs. I’m not going anywhere.”
She lets out a sigh. “I knew you were one of the good ones.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Don’t make me feed you to my brother’s pigs.”
We hang up, and I don’t make the person outside the door wait any longer. Frankie might not have said it, but she knows I’m going to take care of her best friend, and her stamp of approval is all I could have ever asked for.
It makes the tension and quiet coming from Joey this week a little more bearable. She’s going to push me away—I knew that even before Frankie warned me, but she wouldn’t have told me if she didn’t think I was capable of showing Joey what it’s like to be loved by someone without conditions.
The walk back from the suite’s private bathrooms is filled with the sound of an amped-up arena full of hockey fans. While I walk back to our secluded room, I shoot Frankie a follow-up text about Joey’s birthday.
I know Joey said this has to end when tour does, but the way she looks at me when I walk back into the room says otherwise.
She’s standing with Kell, talking to a woman who must be with the team. Her eyes lock onto mine, and she seems to relax, her posture softening like she’d been waiting for her emotional support dog to come back.
Who would have thought West Parker, the playboy comedian, would be using dog comparisons when talking about himself? Willingly.
My stomach flutters when she returns the small smile I have on my face while looking at her. I bridge the gap between us, coming up beside Kell, because the spot next to Joey is taken by the blonde lady in a suit.
“Oh, perfect!” She grabs a burnt orange and black jersey off the chair behind her.
Oh, not perfect.
She turns it around, and I know I’m not hiding the disgust on my face well when Joey bites her lip, suppressing a laugh, while Kell fails to hide his.
Parker is written across the back with my old jersey number. It’s not my middle name that makes me grimace. Actually, that might be the only thing I appreciate about it. The gods of Michigan hockey might smite me if Isakson was there instead.
I won’t be caught dead in Ohio anything—I don’t care how much the suite costs. I’ll pay for it if they expect me to get a picture in that… thing.
“Oh,” I breathe, trying to be nice despite the look I can’t remove from my face.
The woman in the suit laughs. “You said he’d hate it, but I at least expected him to try to hide it.”
“You underestimate the Ohio hatred coursing through his veins,” Kell says, reaching out to take the jersey for me. “The fact he’s even in this building right now is astonishing.” It’s stupid, I know, but I don’t even want to touch it, and Kell knows that.
Suits leaves, and I turn to Joey when Kell goes to find more food, noticing the jersey cradled in the crook of her elbow. “So help me god, if I ever see you in that…” I trail off.
She’s been in her head this week, and as much as I want to know what it’s about, we’ve both been so busy I’m trying to brush it off as stress and exhaustion.
We’re still pretending not to be fucking behind our friend’s backs, so I keep my distance, but I don’t think we’ve been fooling a single one of them since this blew up.
“You gonna rip it off me?” she asks softly enough only I can hear, looking at me like she’s hoping I’ll say yes.
I chuckle, crossing my arms over my chest and focusing on the end of the game.
Columbus has got the win in the bag, having given the Toronto Torrents a run for their money all night.
“Yeah, Joey baby, and then I’ll edge you until you’re begging me to let you come.
” She’s well aware I’m happy to hold out for as long as I need.
A dark look crosses her face, reminding me who it is I’m threatening with my idea of a good time. “Promise?”
I throw an arm over her shoulders and pull her into my side, making sure it looks casual and friendly.
The smell of her perfume hits me like a freight train, and I inhale as I bring my lips to her ear, letting Joey cloud all my senses at once.
“How long do you think you can go before you come without me having to even touch you? Hours? Minutes? Surely not seconds…”
She shivers, and the buzzer announces the end of the game. Cobra fans get loud, the rattle of the team’s winning song blaring through the speakers. I reluctantly let my arm fall away, winking before I cross the room to Enzo, filling him in on the night’s plans.
Someone eventually comes to get us, and Joey tries to avoid eye contact with me at all costs, but this isn’t the cold shoulder I hate getting from her. This is fun silent treatment, a cat and mouse game where for once, Joey knows she’s not the apex predator.
After meeting the players and about 200 knock-knock jokes with half a punchline from one of their kids when they find out I’m a comedian, we’re invited out for drinks at a bar a few blocks away.
As we’re walking through the parking lot, Joey throws her hand out and grabs the arm of my jacket, slowing us to a stop. I nod Enzo on when he looks back. “The tequila company responded to my counter…”
“Shut up, what does it say?” I ask
She shakes her head. “I haven’t opened it.”
I squint. “Why not? Open it.”
Joey’s focus bounces from me to the screen. “I can’t.”
“Then I’ll do it.”
She snatches the phone away, holding it against her chest for safe keeping. “No, I’m scared.” Her eyes are wide, and the rise and fall of her breath comes quicker than normal.
“This is how you acted when you got your Harvard acceptance too, isn’t it?” I take the hand not clutching her phone, lacing my fingers between hers, and lead us back the way we came.
“I made Frankie and her parents open it while I wasn’t in the room,” she admits.
“One of the good things about being rejected from Harvard is you probably had plenty of colleges in your back pocket waiting for their chance.” Michigan had been my dream school, but I had four other scouts who wanted me in case that didn't happen.
“I only applied to Harvard.” Joey’s smile is tight lipped, almost embarrassed.
We round the corner of a building, but my eyes are stuck on her. “Wait a second, you’re telling me Queen of Having a Plan didn’t have a backup if she didn’t get into an Ivy League school with a four percent acceptance rate?”
Joey shrugs. “I found out later Frankie applied to Boston University for me just in case.” Her lack of applications wasn’t because she was cocky, but came from her fear of rejection.
I don’t need her to confirm what I already know.
“You gonna tell me where we're going?” she asks, glancing my way with her hand still in mine.
On the ride here, I noticed a late-night dessert place with an open sign in the window. “We have to have something to mull over, and I think sweets sound better than a loud bar with a bunch of Ohio hockey players waiting to swoop in and impress you with their big muscles and heavy wallets.”
It’s not just that they play for an Ohio team, but that is a big part of it.
“You’ve got big muscles and a heavy wallet,” Joey counters, shooting me a pointed look.
A bell rings when I open the door. “And I’m funny. Thank you for noticing, Joey baby, that means a lot.”
She gives me one of her famous eye rolls that I love so much, and I admire her ass as she walks past me and up to the display, greeting the man before falling into conversation with him about his favorite menu items.