“Honey…” Jessica started, but Jack shook his head, brushing off her protestations.
“No, Jess. I’m thegoalie. It’s literally my job to prevent goals. And I didn’t do that against North Dakota. It’s all my fault.”
Jessica rose from his side and slung her leg over his waist, moving so she straddled his thighs, then shifting so her face was inches from his. She cupped his cheeks between her palms, forcing him to meet her gaze.
“Listen to me, Jack DeLuca. You are only one man on a team of them. It was no more your fault that you let in a few goals than it was Aiden or Asher’s for not scoring more. North Dakota got a few lucky bounces. And don’t even get me started on the absolute piss poor excuse for officiating.” She gripped his face harder. “You guys win as a team, and you lose as a team. Don’t beat yourself up over something out of your control.”
“But that’s the thing, Jess,” he said, his words coming out flat thanks to Jessica squishing his cheeks. “It was well within my control. Stopping pucks is literally my job!”
“You can’t stop them if you can’t see them,” she said. “And I hate to say it, honey, but those North Dakota assholes did nothing all night but sit someone in the crease in front of you. There was nothing you could’ve done.”
With a deep inhale, Jack realized—albeit somewhat distantly—that she was right. North Dakota had done one thing without fail on Saturday, and that was to station one of their forwards, the biggest one on the ice at the time, right in his face. Luke—or whatever other defenseman on the ice at the time—did their best to shove them out of the way, but Jack had spent all night essentially blind.
And the officiating had been, to use Jessica’s words, piss poor. And that was a polite way of saying it.
There was nothing he could’ve done.
His teammates had told him the same thing repeatedly, reminding him over and over that the loss hadn’t been his fault. Figured it took the words coming out of Jessica’s mouth for him to actually believe them.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay?” she asked, that little crease forming between her brows.
He reached up and smoothed it with the pad of his thumb, then said, “You’re right.”
Jessica blinked in surprise, but a slow smile bloomed on her lips. “Of course I am.”
Jack grinned back, then in one fluid motion, flipped them so Jessica was flat on her back beneath him. “I think that deserves a reward.”
Right before Jack’s lips met hers, Jessica said, “Lucky me.”
Nah, Jack thought.I’m the lucky one.
The next morning, with no practice to drag him out of bed at an ungodly hour, and no class until noon, Jack fully intended to sleep in.
Unfortunately, his dad had other ideas.
“Yo,” Jack said when he picked up the phone, his eyelids still heavy with sleep.
“Good morning, Jacky boy!” his dad said, his voice booming through Jack’s quiet bedroom. Next to him, Jessica stirred, grumbling something unintelligible.
“Dad,” Jack said, exasperated. “It’s barely seven.”
“I know,” his dad said brightly. “Early bird gets the worm and all that. Don’t tell me you’re still in bed.”
“Of course I’m still in bed!” Jack said. “This is the first time in four years I don’t have to be up for practice at a ridiculous hour.”
“Well, get up,” his dad said. “Get to the rink and lift or skate or something. You’ve gotta stay sharp for when those professional offers start rolling in.”
Jack groaned. “Is that why you called, or is there some other reason you’re torturing me right now?”
“Oh, right!” his dad said. “We’ll be in Detroit tonight.”
That got Jack’s attention, and he shot upright, the sheets pooling around his naked waist. He glanced sideways at Jessica, who was sprawled out on her stomach next to him, the bare expanse of her lean back tempting him where the covers bunched around her hips.
Jack bit his lip, resisting the urge to reach out and run a hand over her skin, to cup her ass, to flip her toward him and bury himself in her.
“Jack?” his dad asked, returning him to the conversation at hand.
