“Because the team needs me,” I say instead.
She frowns, staring at me with those same stern gray eyes thatare just like her brother’s and yet somehow entirely hers. She shrugs finally, pushing away from the wall.
“It’s none of my business I guess.” She jingles the keys in her hand. “I’m going to go give these to your sister and get a ride home. I have a lot of work to catch up on.” She gives me a wary glance, looking torn, as if she can’t quite decide what to say to me. “Good luck, Jack.”
My first instinct is to make a joke, to say something silly, but something about the sincerity in her tone gives me pause, and instead I utter a simple, “Thank you.”
It might be the most normal interaction I’ve ever had with the woman.
I watch her disappear out the door, feeling a little undone by the impression left by her gaze, real fear seeping in through my armor and settling deep down in my chest as it makes my heart start to race. I know that Ian will have the same things to say as my sister when he gets here, that both of them will try to convince me to move forward with treatment as soon as possible. And it will take a miracle to convince them to leave it alone, and more importantly, not tell the coach.
Because there’s one thing for certain during all of this—I can’t quit playing.
I just can’t.
Three
Abby
When I get home fromthe hospital, I’m more than exhausted, and I still have too much to do. I have a paper due in my Social Psychology class that I haven’t even started on, even knowing it’s due in a little over a week. I throw my keys on the little side table, rubbing my eyes as I lock the door to my tiny apartment behind me. My studio in Back Bay isn’t the most glamorous of spaces, despite how nice the neighborhood is, but given that my dad had paid up the rent for the next year before he practically disowned me, I don’t have a lot of other options.
Even if I hate the idea of living on his charity.
Still, being a twenty-five-year-old grad student doesn’t exactly pay, well…anything, and the only job I can juggle with my course load is my gig at the coffee shop down the street, so I guess I have to take what I can get.
Despite my usual mantra to keep Jack Baker far from my mind, I find my thoughts lingering on his situation, even feeling a pang of sympathy for him. I know the poor guy lives andbreathes hockey—that’s easy enough to know about him, even based on our limited interactions—so it must really suck to be delivered news like that after already missing out on the entire beginning of the season because of, in Lila’s words, “his own dumbassery.” I can’t speak on that, since I don’t know what a triple axel is, but I have to imagine it’snotsomething one should attempt while drunk, even if a teammate dares you to.
Plus, I still can’t get the haunted look he wore when he admitted he was scared out of my head. I think it’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen Jack look.
I left before I got to talk to Ian, but it was easy to see how distressed Lila was about the whole thing when I gave her keys back. Despite his…chaotic personality, I know that Lila adores her brother. It’s easy to see how much she cares about him every time she speaks of him, or anytime they interact. Truth be told, it almost makes me jealous, the relationship they have. It’s something I’m still trying to figure out with my own brother.
I shake away my thoughts of the Bakers, deciding that I need nothing more than a hot shower before I hit the books. I stretch my arms over my head to pull off my T-shirt, tossing it in the hamper by my bed before stepping into the tiny attached bath to turn on the hot water. I brace myself against the sink, giving my appearance a once-over, taking in the slight dark circles under my eyes.
I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have them.
My entire life has been a constant stream of uneasiness and stress. It’s a given, I think, when you spend a good deal of your life being someone’s dirty little secret. Constantly worried about what people might learn of you, what they might say if they did.
It’s fucking exhausting, really. It’s supposed to be better now that my dad is out of the picture, but for the first few months afterhe ran off, there was plenty in the tabloids about me just the same. Who I was, what sort of person I was, speculations on my personal life…I don’t know how Ian fucking dealt with it all those years. Thankfully, I seem to be old news now, and I’ve made it my life’s mission to never be on anyone’s radar like that ever again. I want a nice, easy life going forward. I’ve had more than my fair share of drama, thank you very much.
The shower spray is everything I needed, and I linger under the warm water for a lot longer than is necessary, my thoughts going back to that conversation in the hospital without my permission.
I think the thing that bothers me the most about Jack Baker is howeasyeverything seems to be for him. And yes, I’m well aware he’s had his own suffering in his life, I’m not discrediting that, but I think the crux of it all is that I’mjealousthat he’s suffered so much and somehow come out on the other side being so damned happy all the time. I mean, granted, Lila is a generally happy person, too, so by that logic I should resent her as well, but Jack is…
Jack is sort of hard to ignore.
Every moment I spend in his presence, he’s fixated on making sure I don’t leave the interaction without being mildly irritated at best, like he’s made it his life’s mission to annoy the ever-loving fuck out of me. The constant banter, the incessant teasing—he’s just…irritating. I want to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time, but he makes it so impossible to do so, just by being himself.
I run my fingers through my wet hair as I rinse out my shampoo, thinking of his quietthank you. Of the look on his face when he said it.
Is it at all possible that underneath all that silliness and swagger, a real person exists?
I snort under my breath, wiping the lingering suds from my eyes.
Doubtful, I decide.
After my shower, I drag out my book and settle on my bed with my notes sprawled out in front of me, chewing on the end of my pen and trying not to think about Jack Baker. Something that I have to actively do a lot lately, it seems.
Iamscared.
