My jaw falls. “Wow, Dad. That’s deep. You sound like Vladi,” I say, wondering where all these people get this advice and why my dumb ass can’t just follow it. “Okay, I gotta hop on the bus to the airport. Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime, son. You know I’m always here if you need me. And like I said…look at this as a way to get out of where you’ve been. Love you, bud.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Ending the call, I tap my phone against my lips. God, I lucked out with the most amazing parents. My mom and dad have been supportive of me my entire life. Never pressured me to do anything I didn’t want to. Never held unrealistic expectations of me. Even when everything came out about my past relationship and we all decided to lean into me being a playboy, they always said it was my decision.
I walk out of the closet, seeing a group of Rider’s interns and staff walking by, a few of them looking this way as the door clicks behind me. I suck in a sharp breath.Did any of them hear me?Shaking it off, I make my way through the arena to the bus, thinking about how they’ve had one of those perfect marriages people dream of. Always so happy together, even with four kids, including a little shit like me, wreaking havoc in the house. I asked my dad, once, how they dealt with all of us, and he said it was both the greatest irritant and the most fulfilling joy they ever had. After we’d all gone to bed, they would laugh, give each other shit about how they could have handled things better, and simply vent about all the trouble we’d gotten up to with one another.
Fuck, if I don’t want that for myself too.
The hollow pull tightens again, right in my fucking ribcage, like it does every goddamn day. I should be a typical twenty-something out partying and living it up, and I certainly go out and hang with my teammates as much as I can and have a great time, but I would give that up in an instant to have something special like my parents.Something real.The kids. The chaos. A woman by my side, giving me shit and living a crazy, perfect life with me.
More specifically, the one I’m currently fake dating.
I shake my head as I climb up the stairs onto the bus and find my seat. Right now, she sees me as a reckless twenty-three-year-old partying my life away and sleeping my way around town. My stomach twists tighter than my freshly taped stick.Ihaveto find a way to help her see past that.I wish I could change things. I wish I could take away the self-doubt, the fear, that I’ll get hurt again. But just like being down at intermission, the only way to win is to view this as a clean start. To focus on the future. And focus on how to make Kennedy see what’s underneath this mask I’ve been wearing.
Time to start showing her the real Jordan Boucher.
22
kennedy
Arriving at the hotel in Dallas after the game, I stumble into my room, kick my shoes off, and flop down face-first on the bed. I open my mouth to scream my frustrations into the mattress. But I can’t. I am so damn tired; the thought of expanding my lungs more than necessary is exhausting. I thought I would be relaxing all day, but between the endless notifications going off, calls from my friends and family, and going over flight plans, I barely got a chance to relax.
Thankfully, I got a quick nap in after chatting with Hannah, otherwise I’m not sure I would’ve made it through the post-game flight. Chadd was tolerable on the flight—not sure how long that will last, but at least I survived.I’m ready to hibernate in a cave for a year.
The minute we got in the shuttle to the hotel, I started getting tagged in a million notifications on social media. Specifically, the one of Jordan announcing our relationship after the game. I watched it—the shirtless man with an incredibly sculpted chest declaring I was the woman of his dreams. I watched again, to make sure I heard everything correctly, since I was too distracted watching his muscles ripple across my screen. And then a third time, needing to be certain I caught it all, noticingthe way his throat bobbed as he spoke. My breaths became quick, my thighs clenching together as I watched it a few more times for good measure—until I remembered I was on a bus filled with other people.
If I weren’t so damn tired, I’d watch it again here in bed…for science.
It’s a great speech. I swallow hard, realizing he ticked off every item on the checklist of things I’ve been waiting my entire life for someone to say.But it’s not real. This is all for show. One thing I’ll never doubt about him is his ability to perform on demand. If I didn’t know any better, it would have been a nice declaration if I were even into that sort of thing from a guy, especially one like him, which I’m clearly not. It was just another of the many performances from hockey’s greatest showman.
Flipping onto my back, I stare at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I’ve done.Was this the right decision?I could just admit to Chadd this was all a ruse and deal with the fallout. I flop my arm over my face. Shit, I cannot lower myself to admit to him this was all fake.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of paper rustling. I quickly sit up, finding a piece of paper shoved under the door from the adjoining room next to me.Is he in there?How is this happening again?
I walk over to pick up the paper and unfold it to read.
Kennedy,
I hope you’re doing okay after everything today. This has all been a lot, way more than I ever would have thought.
Sorry I didn’t get to check in on you until now, game days are always crazy somehow. Sleep tight, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.
Your boyfriend, Jordan.
P.S. Open the mini-bar
A tired smile creeps up my face as I huff out the smallest laugh.Is it my exhaustion or does some of that rhyme?I did hear rumors about a filthy poem he wrote for Hayes Larson’s bachelor party.
I can’t remember the last time a guy wrote me a note, let alone one with pen and paper. The slightest of flutters runs through my stomach, warmth filling me before I quickly squash it. Just because he’s not thinking only about himself for one minute doesn’t mean anything.Everyone has their moments.
I read the last line again, my eyes peeking up from the paper toward the mini-bar. Walking over I slowly pull the door open, half afraid I’ll find some immature joke. I suck in a sharp breath as I stare at what’s before me, blinking a few times to make sure it’s not a mirage. I reach out and touch a bottle.Nope. It’s real. Really, truly real.The entire fridge is filled with nothing but Aviation gin, bottles of tonic water, and a container of freshly cut lime wedges.
I tilt my head to the side, that damn flutter in my gut back again and stronger than before.How did he know?I guess I ordered a gin and tonic at the bar last night, but he wasn’t there that long. And this is my favorite brand. All of it is my favorite.
I grab the ingredients to make myself a nightcap, knowing it’sexactlywhat I need after this horrific day and snatch the ice bucket to fill in the hallway. But…it’s already full. I’m not going to deny that being able to make myself a drink without having toschlep down the hall to get ice is a welcome luxury after this day.How the hell did he arrange all of this?
