26. Chapter 26
Charlotte
“Good lord, what in the thirst trap is this?” I hear Alyssa say from across the table, and judging by the putrid look on her face, it isn’t something good.
We’ve not long been back from my PT and therapy session. I ache like a bitch, but I need to crack on with some admin for work and Alyssa offered to make me some posts for socials.
We’re taking a quick coffee and cake break because who doesn’t function better on more caffeine and sugar?
“What are you looking at?” I ask her, curious as to what has got her face looking like she’s about to throw up any minute.
“My brother seems to now be posting videos of himself all over Instagram thrusting and gyrating across the ice. I feel sick, who the actual fuck wants to see that? It’s just wrong.
Surely he can’t be that desperate for the puck bunnies’ attention.
They will be all over this like flies on shit.
I need to go and bleach my eyeballs right now! ”
“Eugh, puck bunnies are the worst!”
My nose wrinkles in disgust. I’ve seen them parading around the rink when I’ve watched the guys play. Jake must have been there, but I can’t picture him. It's still too hazy.
“Yep, literally the definition of a hoe in a hockey jersey, if you can call the cropped piece of material on them a jersey. All they care about is getting in the players’ pants, and they don't care who they are. I wouldn't trust those gold diggers as far as I could throw them.”
“I couldn’t think of anything worse than parading myself around like some sort of barbie doll in the hopes of bagging a player,” I agree as I snag another piece of cake from my plate.
Whilst Alyssa’s consumed by emails, I sneak a peek at Jake’s Instagram to see what all the fuss was about and…
.wow. That’s the only word I have for what I am witnessing on my screen.
I’m transfixed; the guy on my screen glides across the ice so sensually it looks like it’s a private show meant just for the viewer.
There’s no one else in the shot, and I can’t look away.
Jake looks directly at the camera, and the eye contact he is giving is so intense it’s like he’s staring right into my soul.
I feel my face heating the longer I watch, but like a moth drawn to a flame, I can’t make myself stop.
I wonder who he made this for? I can almost hear myself snarl, and the overwhelming feeling of the green-eyed monster hits me like a punch to the gut, so much so I swear I can actually feel it.
This crush is going to be the death of me.
“You ok?” Alyssa questions with her eyebrows raised. “You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine. Just a little hot, that’s all. Aren’t you hot? God, it’s like the earth's core in here,” I ramble. I can literally feel the sweat trickling down my back.
“I mean, it’s a little warm,” she eyes me skeptically. “Let’s go sit on the terrace and cool off.”
Grabbing my crutches as Alyssa grabs Bella’s bed and a jug of lemonade from the fridge, we take a seat on the terrace and watch the waves crashing in front of us.
A little while later, hockey's very own Channing Tatum returns, and I can’t even look him in the eye. I feel like I intruded on a private moment, even though it was posted very publicly, and I can’t unsee it.
“Hey, Lotts, how’s your day been?” he asks as he gives me a side hug.
Droplets of water fall onto my forehead from his damp hair and I breathe him in.
He smells fresh and clean like soap and just Jake.
His black T-shirt is tight to his biceps, and I can see those beautiful tattoos on full display.
My gaze travels further down, noticing the grey sweatpants hung low on his hips.
I’ve read about them in numerous books but have never had the pleasure of witnessing a man in them for myself, and I very much see the appeal. What is going on with me today?
I’ve never really had these feelings before, never been turned on by a man or thought about wanting to rip his clothes off.
But right now, all I want to do is strip Jake naked and do…
well I don't know what I’d do—I think I’d enjoy seeing it, though.
My body is tingling all over and this is such a new sensation for me that I’m taken aback.
Or am I? Something is niggling at me. I’ve felt this way about someone before, but again, it’s just not coming to me. I must be imagining it.
“Mmhmm, great,” is all I can muster up to say whilst nodding like one of those dogs you see stuck to a car dashboard. Get a grip, Charlotte. The look he’s giving me suggests he doesn't believe me, but he lets it go.
“What do you want for dinner tonight? I got some halloumi while I was out and thought about making halloumi and bell pepper kebabs to cook on the grill—we could eat alfresco?” he says, looking at me hopefully.
“Sounds great.” Yep, great. Nice and cozy outside when I feel like I'm on fire with him literally fifty yards away, let alone with him all up in my business on the terrace. This is going to be a long night.
I’m brushing my teeth the next morning when Jake comes bounding in like an overexcited puppy.
“Woah, what’s going on?” I splutter around a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Come outside as soon as you’re done.”
That’s it. That’s all he says and then he’s gone again like a whirlwind. Intrigued, I head outside as quickly as someone can go on crutches to find my laptop set up on the table with YouTube open, chairs rearranged, and my journal ready to go.
“Welcome to chair yoga!”
What the…he actually researched this?
“I thought we could do this together and then I could make your chamomile tea whilst you meditate. Then after, I’ll head off to the gym for a bit whilst you journal. Sound good?”
He’s thought it all out, I’m so overwhelmingly grateful right now. Keep it together, Charlotte.
“Jake, thank you, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. Now get comfortable and let’s get started.” He helps me onto the chair and moves my crutches out of the way before taking a seat opposite me, making sure we can both still see the screen.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yep, let’s do this!” I’m so excited, I haven’t been able to practice yoga in months and now I’m getting some sort of normality back.
It used to be the one thing to really ground me mentally, and when I’ve needed it the most, I haven't been able to do it. Don’t get me wrong, meditation does help in some respects, but for me, it’s always worked better after a good yoga flow.
We start with a gentle warm up, just to loosen the limbs ready for what’s to come. I’m not sure what level of yoga this will be, but as it’s in a chair, I’m guessing nothing too strenuous.
How wrong was I? This workout is really kicking my butt, but at the same time, it’s great to feel my body working hard for me and not against me. I look over at Jake, who looks like he’s been doing this all his life. I guess being a hockey player means they need to be flexible.
I can feel the sweat trickling down my forehead as I move my arms into a variation of warrior pose.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement coming from Jake’s side.
Holy shit, he’s just taken off his T-shirt and wiped the sweat from his face with it.
His skin is glistening, and I swear I count not a six-pack but an eight-pack.
All of a sudden, I don’t know where to look.
Jake catches me staring and cocks his head to the side with a knowing smirk spreading across his handsome face. Busted.
“See something you like?”
That damn smirk is still in place, I swear he says this to get a rise out of me. And it’s working. I can feel the butterflies in my belly and a tingling further down the more I look. My body is flushing all over, heat rising to the point I swear there is steam coming off it.
I have to look away; if I continue to stare, I’ll look like a panting dog in heat.
“N-no, I, ah, just was wondering how you were finding it, is all,” I manage to stammer out. God, woman, what is wrong with you? Get it together.
“I’m actually really enjoying it, I never knew yoga was so much fun.” Those pearly whites of his flash back at me. “Although I’m pretty sure your leg is meant to be facing that way,” he points to his left. “Here, let me help. You’ll let me know if it hurts, right?”
I nod, unable to form words as he bends down next to me and his hand grazes up my bare calf, gently maneuvering my leg into the correct position.
I’ve forgotten how to breathe—my heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest at his innocent touch.
I gasp and he looks up at me as if I’m in pain.
“Are you ok?” His eyes are filled with concern.
“Y-yes, fine, your hand was a bit cold, that’s all.”
He raises an eyebrow, it’s not cold at all and neither are his hands. Luckily, he either decides to believe me or understands how uncomfortable I am and moves on. The yoga video continues and we work through in a comfortable silence.
Once we’re finished, Jake goes inside to make my tea, which he brings out to me, still topless.
“Here’s your tea, milady,” he says in a fake British accent whilst bowing to me.
He really needs to put his shirt back on. I grab my sunglasses from the table and slide them on so I can ogle in peace.
“I’m just taking Bella for a walk, I won’t be long,” Jake shouts to me, my dog hot on his heels as they head down the steps to the beach.
Looking over my glasses, I admire the view—and I’m not talking about the ocean.
I try to focus on my journal, but it’s proving difficult when there’s two hundred pounds of pure muscle running up and down the beach, hat on backwards.
That damn hat! These flutters in my belly are not going away, if anything, they’re getting stronger.
Come on, focus on the journal, we’re not allowed to like Jake like that, nothing good can come of it.
Although…maybe just one more peek will tide me over for a while.
Feeling reflective whilst writing in my journal, I keep thinking of all the things I’ve not done—or now can’t remember—and how, at twenty-six, I don’t have any real-life experience.
It makes me feel younger than my years sometimes.
Don’t get me wrong, I've made some great friends, but I’m equally happy with my own company.
Sometimes, I prefer it. Unintentionally, I isolate or shelter myself away from others to protect myself, and I can now see that’s what I was doing with Jake.
A pang in my chest hits deep as I remember, yet again, my parents are gone. Every time I think of them, the cut opens a little deeper.
Jake and I are doing so much better now, and I really do love his company.
But realistically, how much longer is he going to stick around when, so far, I’ve recovered only one memory.
I overheard him on the phone last night; he was talking to Hannah about how much better I’m doing and I won’t need him soon.
He will inevitably move out, and then I’ll lose him completely.
I can feel myself spiraling, these negative thoughts taking over.
I feel like I’m drowning and no one can see me.
Stop this, Charlotte, you promised Jake you wouldn’t do this again.
I’m so frustrated at everything. The one place that used to be my safe haven and sanctuary is now suffocating me—I can’t be here right now.
Throwing my sunglasses off, I run down the steps, my body groaning with every move I make. I don’t get far before my leg gives way completely and I fall onto the sand, tears streaming down my eyes, and a tall shadowy figure hovers above me.