Chapter 32 Fletcher
thirty-two
Fletcher
He punched him?” Tate rolls over in her bed to look at me.
I rushed right over here after practice because I thought she would be interested in the fact that Cam took a swing at Declan in the locker room. The second I arrived, though, that information was put on the back burner because I had only one thought on my mind.
And fuck, if I do say so myself, it was ten times better than the first time.
Which is insane, because our first time was better than anything I could have imagined.
“He took a swing at him,” I clarify. “Declan dodged it, but Cam was pissed.”
“Ember feels terrible about how everything went down.” She rests her head on her hand, looking up at me.
“Yeah, I can’t imagine finding something out the way Cam found out about Ember and Declan, but I don’t think any of us expected him to take a swing.”
Cam has never been a particularly violent person, even in hockey.
Sure, he’s the goalie, so the grit needed to play his position is a bit different from what it is for me or Jeremy or Declan, but another team could throw him onto the ground, and he’d just get up and act like it didn’t happen.
Just get back to the game.
And I know that’s what he’d do because I’ve witnessed it firsthand.
So, for Cam to take a swing at not only a teammate but our Captain, he’s definitely pissed.
Probably more than pissed.
I guess I can’t blame him.
Jeremy and I were talking about it on the way home from practice, though, and we can’t help but wonder what this will mean for the team's dynamic.
I don’t think Cam or Declan would purposely let their little feud affect our team, but there are some things you just can’t control.
“What happened after he took the swing and Declan dodged it?” Tate leans in closer.
“I think it hit Cam that punching Declan in the face won’t solve anything. It won’t change Ember keeping this from him.”
“Or he’s going to do it again when Declan least expects it.”
“That’s also a possibility.” I laugh, running my hand over Tate’s bare back.
Her doorbell rings, and I start to get out of bed, but she waves her hand in front of me.
“I got it.”
Tate had the bright idea to order food before we had sex so that by the time the order was processed, made, and then delivered, we’d probably be done with round one, surely working up an appetite.
If I weren’t already in love with her, that definitely would’ve been the nail in the coffin.
She wraps her robe around her body, and I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that she didn’t just grab my t-shirt that’s lying over the back of her chair.
But as she tightens it and then walks toward the front door, suddenly, I don’t care anymore because she looks fucking amazing.
She always does, but I don’t know. Since we slept together, it’s as if I see her in a different light.
Maybe it’s because I can finally stare at her, and admire her, without the guys giving me shit because we’re “just friends.” But now, I can stare all I want.
And she doesn’t care.
She loves it.
I catch her staring at me, too, and it’s crazy what that feeling does to you.
I throw my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling as the front door opens.
“Jere.”
Tate’s voice echoes through her apartment, and I jump out of her bed, trying to figure out my next move.
“I didn’t know you were coming over.”
I quickly gather my clothes and pull them on as quietly as possible.
I don’t know if I’m going to try to act like I’m not here or if I’m going to go out there and let him know I’m here, but at least if I’m fully clothed, it won’t seem weird.
“I was on my way to the rink to get in some extra skating time and realized that Fletcher and I carpooled to practice today, and I left my stuff in his car.”
“Oh, well, um, Fletcher isn’t here, so I don’t—”
“I’m not that stupid, Tate.” There’s a lightness in his voice. “Fletch, man, you can just toss me your keys, and I’ll get my stuff, and then I’ll drop them back off up here when I’m done. I won’t come in, though, just toss them in the apartment so I don’t interrupt anything.”
“H-how?”
“For starters, I saw his car when I pulled in. Which wouldn’t be weird, but then you lied about him being here. So between that and the morning, it wasn’t hard to piece together.”
I open Tate’s bedroom door, walking out to see Jere and Tate both still standing by the front door.
“Are you going to go tell the guys?” I scratch the back of my neck.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Look, I love both of you. I don’t care what you guys do in your free time together. I don’t care if you’re dating or just sleeping together or whatever might be going on; truly, it’s none of my business. All that I care about is you both being happy.”
“We are.” Tate rocks on her heels. “I kind of felt like you might know.”
“That being said, Tate’s like a little sister to me, so if you hurt her, I will fucking kill you. I might have a bad back, but trust me when I tell you, I can still take you.”
“Got it.” A shaky laugh escapes my lips. “But what about if she hurts me?”
“She won’t. She likes you too much.”
Jere pats my shoulder and then places his hand out for my keys. I drop them into his palm.
“We have pizzas arriving in a little bit. Do you want to stick around for some food before heading to the ice?” Tate motions to the couch.
“I’m alright; I ate before I left the house. Thanks for the offer, though. I’ll be back up in a minute.”
“We’ll be here.”
We both watch as Jere disappears, the front door closing behind him.
I let out a long breath.
“Well, fuck.”
Hey there, hockey star.” Becca takes a seat across from me and instantly reaches for the coffee I bought her.
“How’d you know that coffee was for you?” I tilt my head at the coffee in her hand, which would only be for Becca because I don’t know any other person who enjoys lavender lattes.
“That hasn’t been cute any time you’ve done it.” She narrows her eyes. “Plus, if you have another friend who loves lavender lattes, then I don’t know why you haven’t introduced us. I think we’d get along great.”
“I think you get along with everyone. You’re just one of those people.”
“First of all, that’s not true. Second of all, I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not.”
“You’re easy to talk to. I’d say that’s a pretty great compliment.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “But that obviously isn’t the reason you wanted to hang out today.”
“I can’t want to just see my friend on a random Thursday?”
Her head falls to the side, “Not really, no.”
“Okay, well, I guess—”
“Wait.” She puts her coffee down and leans forward against the table. “Is this about Tate? Did you warn her about Isaiah?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Are they seeing each other? Could you imagine? The guy that broke my heart and the girl you were too scared to confess your feelings for together?”
“You can’t say that anymore.”
“That he broke my heart.” Her face twists.
“No, that I’m too scared to confess my feelings for Tate.”
“Shut the fuck up.” She jumps out of her chair, hitting the table three times, causing eyes to dart in our direction. Becca doesn’t seem to care. “You did not.”
“I did.”
“And?” She pulls her chair back under her and sits down. “I mean, you don’t seem upset, so does that mean?”
I don’t know if I’ve ever blushed before. Maybe I have, I guess I probably did as a kid, but I don’t know if I’ve ever felt a blush like the one I feel right now.
I don’t know why telling Becca this is embarrassing; it shouldn’t be. Honestly, Becca’s been rooting for this since I gloated about Tate the first time we met.
“Fletcher Reed, you continue to surprise me.”
“The whole conversation was pretty surprising.”
“You do realize I’m going to need all of the details now, right?
Start to finish. The first word of the conversation until the last.” She grabs her coffee and takes a long drink as she leans back in her chair.
“Don’t leave anything out.” Her nose scrunches.
“Actually, scratch that, I don’t need any of the sexy time details. ”
“What makes you think there was sexy time?” I cross my arms.
She gives me a sidelong glance, and I laugh.
“Okay, there was definitely sexy time.”
“Alright, I don’t have all day. Tell me everything.”