One More Shot (Hometown Players #1) Page 6

  Walking down the sidewalk toward where the truck is parked, I hear the door open behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Rose slip under the railing that divides the entryway from the sidewalk. She marches up to me.

  “I’m glad you came back for the funeral, Jordy. I want you to know it means a lot to me.”

  “Thanks, Rosie.” I give her a small hug. Her admission starts to add even more cracks in the hard armor that’s been encasing my heart for six years.

  When I let her go, she levels me with an intense, serious stare. “You will never see her again after tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “We’re going to sell the house. Jessie is never going to come back to Silver Bay after that. I don’t think any of us will.” Rose speaks quietly, her eyes as dark as the sky above us. “So, you know, if you have anything to say to her…If you feel like you owe her even the slightest apology for how it all blew up, this would be the time to say it.”

  “I’m not the only one who screwed up,” I remind her because I’ve been reminding myself of that every day for six years. It’s that reminder that keeps me from feeling sorry for myself.

  “Then I guess you’re here to say good-bye.” Rose turns and runs back into the bar.

  I get back in my dad’s truck grappling with the new, unexpected feelings that have started to brew inside me. Up until the second Cole said they were at the bar, I was completely dreading having to be in the same room with Jessie again. But when I realized she wasn’t there, I was genuinely, and completely unexpectedly, disappointed. Suddenly I wanted to see her again. Maybe it was just because I wanted to get it over with but then Rose’s words—you will never see her again after tomorrow—felt like a threat.

  God, how the hell did we get here? As I drive home the memories of the clusterfuck that was my only true attempt at a real relationship fill my head.

  Chapter 6

  Jordan

  Six years earlier

  I knock on the door, totally freaking out inside. I keep telling myself that admitting I’m in love with her doesn’t have to change how we are with each other, but the jackhammer that has replaced my heart seems to disagree.

  Rose answers and lets me in. She tells me Jessie is on her way home from work and I’m welcome to wait. I sit in the living room and watch Survivor with Rose, who is obsessed with the show and swears as soon as she’s old enough, she’ll apply to be a contestant.

  I can barely pay attention to who is being voted off the island because I’m obsessing over what to say to Jessie when I see her. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since we had sex, and I haven’t said anything to her. I haven’t seen her or talked to her. This isn’t how I wanted it to be. I wanted to wake up this morning, drive over to Hannah’s and tell her we were totally done, then drive straight to Jessie’s house.

  But my mother had woken me up before the sun rose, reminding me that we had to be in Boston all day. I was meeting with a series of sports agents. My parents had set it up weeks ago. My whole world was about to change, and everyone from coaches to trainers to family friends told my parents to get me an agent before the NHL draft. I’d agreed to the meetings not knowing the timing would be the worst thing ever. I’d spent the whole day and half the evening in Boston. I’d wanted to text her but my dad wanted me focused, so he took my phone away for the day.

  I decided to sign with a guy from a smaller, New England–based sports agency. My parents seemed pleased and I was just relieved it was over. As much as I wanted to be a professional hockey player, as the dream got closer and closer to becoming a reality, I started to panic. There were so many decisions, so many new people trying to push their way into my life and so many uncertainties. I’d been feeling that panic for a couple of months now, and now my personal life was adding anxiety to the mix.

  By the time my dad gave me my phone back, it was dead. And of course Luc, Devin or Cole had removed the charger from the car, probably to use in one of their own vehicles, so it was a long, communication-free drive back to Maine.

  As soon as we got home I hijacked the car, drove over to Hannah’s and made it clear that our off-again phase was permanent. To say she didn’t take it well would be an understatement of epic proportions. She started to cry—the kind of uncontrollable, snot-filled, ugly-cry I’d never seen before. It freaked me right the hell out.

  “Hannah…come on…” I had begged and tried to rub her shoulder, but she shrugged me off. “We’ll still be friends.”

  “I don’t want to be friends, Jordan!” she cried, her voice heavy with pain. “I thought were going to be together forever.”

  “Han, we were constantly breaking up.”

  “And making up! We always make up. And we talked about a future!”

  “You talked about a future,” I corrected her.

  “You didn’t stop me!” she wailed, more tears trickling down her cheeks.

  “I didn’t think things would change like this.”

  “What? What changed?” She lifted her face to look up at me, and she looked so panicked suddenly it shocked me. “I can fix it. I’ll change back to whatever you liked before. Just tell me.”

  “It’s not you,” I say. “It’s me. I…want something else.”

  “You just need some time.”

  “I don’t need time,” I muttered.

  “Don’t do this!” Hannah burst into tears again, and her sister Kristi came running in and told me to leave.

  I came directly here to see Jessie. I was leaving the next morning with my parents to go to Minnesota for the NHL draft and I wouldn’t be back for a week. I had to see Jessie first. I had to make sure she…we were okay. Or more important, I had to ensure there was a “we.”

  I hear tires rolling up the driveway and glance out the window. Instead of Jessie’s crappy old red Honda hatchback parking by the barn, I see Chance Echolls’ SUV parking next to my truck.

  “What the hell…” I whisper as I watch them get out of the truck. There’s a bouquet of Gerber daisies in her hand.

  Rose is watching too. She shrugs and simply says, “Maybe they got back together.”

  I want to vomit. I storm out onto the porch as they walk up. Chance is in the middle of saying something to Jessie when I haul off and punch him.

  “Jordan!” Jessie screams, and jumps in front of me, pushing her flowers into my chest to stop me from reaching down and hitting him again.

  “What the hell, Garrison?!” Chance yells.

  He gets back on his feet rubbing his jaw and runs his tongue over his bloody lip. He turns to Jessie with accusatory eyes. “You told him what happened between us, didn’t you? Why the hell do you tell him everything?”

  “I was upset,” Jessie yells defensively.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Jordan! This has nothing to do with you,” Chance barks at me, his blue eyes flared in anger and his dark hair still askew from his fall.

  I stare down at Jessie, completely ignoring him. I grab the flowers and shake them. Petals fall to the dirt. “What’s this? He gives you flowers and everything is okay?”

  Angrily she says, “My stupid car won’t start. He was at the rink and he offered me a ride. I called you, but you didn’t answer.”

  I swallow hard and throw the flowers across the driveway. She doesn’t seem to care.

  “So, you forgave him?” I ask with a thick lump forming in my throat. “You’re what, dating him again?”

  “What the hell do you care, Garrison? You’re dating Hannah,” Chance pipes in. I swallow down the urge to deck him again.

  “Not anymore,” I manage through my anger.

  “You broke up with Hannah? Why?” he yells at me. “Is it because Jessie broke up with me? You want my girlfriend! I knew it, you asshole!”

  “Asshole?” I turned on him, towering over his five-nine frame. I use my height advantage the way I do on the ice—to intimidate. “You knew I liked her because I fucking told you I did a fucking year ago and you went after her, anyw
ay. You’re the fucking asshole!”

  He pushes me. Hard. Chance was never a fighter, not on the ice or off. And neither was I, most of the time. But having feelings for Jessie seems to make both us of do crazy things because I shove him and he shoves me back and the next thing I know, we’re on the ground throwing punches. And then Rose and Jessie are screaming and pulling us apart with more strength than I realized they had.

  Jessie hooks me under my arms, grabs my shirt and drags me across the dirt for almost a foot before I hear the neck of my shirt tear. Rose jumps on Chance’s back and wraps her arms and legs around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides.

  I pick myself up off the ground, and once again Jessie jumps in between us, facing me as Rose clambers off Chance’s back. She sandwiches herself in between us, facing Chance.

  “Oh my God, your nose is bleeding!” Rose squeals at Chance, and starts to drag him back into their house.

  I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of frustration, embarrassment and anger. I just get into my car and drive away. Jessie calls after me, but I ignore her. I’m so angry and so…I don’t even know how to describe it. I’ve never felt like this. I want to hate her and I want to love her. I’m an effing disaster.

  When I get home, my parents are in the basement den watching TV. They call out a greeting but don’t come up, which is good. I can feel my face swelling near my eye and I don’t want them to see it yet. I need a cover story first.

  I head straight to my bedroom. Cole and Luc are sitting on Cole’s bed, video game controllers in their hands. Luckily the sound from the Legend of Zelda coming out of our TV drowns out their voices when they see my face.

  “What the hell, Jordy!” Cole yelps and drops his controller.

  Luc’s brown eyes get wide and he swears in French.

  “Shh! I don’t want to deal with Mom and Dad right now,” I say, and head toward the laundry hamper, looking for a dirty towel I can use.

  “You were in a fight?” Cole asks skeptically. “Were you playing pickup hockey or something?”

  I shake my head as I pull a towel out of the bottom of the hamper and raise it to my face, gingerly rubbing off the little bit of blood I can feel crusted to my lip. Luc walks over and grabs the towel from my hand.

  “This thing is disgusting,” he scolds me. “You’re going to get an infection.”

  He opens the bedroom door and heads out of the room. I drop back onto my bed and put my hands over my face, trying to calm the screwed-up feelings raging through me.

  “Who did you fight?”

  “Chance Echolls.”

  “Shut up!” Cole’s hazel eyes grow wide and he grins. “He’s a little shit. I hope he looks worse than you.”

  “I think he does.”

  “Good.” Cole grins as Luc walks back into the room with a clean, damp facecloth and another towel wrapped around some ice from our kitchen freezer. “He fought Chance.”

  Luc’s eyes land on me, but he’s not nearly as excited about the news as Cole was. “Over Jessie?”

  I take the wet facecloth from him and walk over to the full-length mirror behind the closed bedroom door. “Sort of. Yeah.”

  “Did he start it? Did he find out about you two?” Luc asks as I carefully clean my face.

  “You two?” Cole pipes in, completely confused. “As in you and Jessie? As in…like a couple thing?”

  “I started the fight. I went over to see Jessie. She was at work. And when she got home, he was with her.”

  “You didn’t talk to her all day? She was a virgin, man,” Luc reminds me. “You can’t do that and then bail on her.”

  “She was a virgin? Who, Jessie? And she’s not a virgin now?!” Cole interjects, and jumps up from the bed. He puts his hands out, palms up flat begging us to stop. “Wait! Wait! Wait! Who banged her? You or Chance? It was Chance, right?”

  “I didn’t bail on her, Luc.” I shoot an angry look to my best friend. “I was at her house to tell her that. But he was there and he got her flowers. And I freaking lost it.”

  “No, seriously, who slept with Jessie?!” Cole asks again, his voice rising with frustration.

  “Shut up,” I snap, and turn back to Luc. “It’s all messed up now.”

  Cole grabs my shoulders. “Jordan, either you answer my questions or I go downstairs and tell Mom about your screwed-up face. And then you can answer her questions.”

  “Cole, don’t be a dick,” Luc scolds him, giving him a shove so he stumbles back and lands on his bed. Luc turns back to me. “Call her. Talk this out…”

  Suddenly there’s a tap on the bedroom window. All three of our heads spin toward it. Luc is the closest so he pulls back the green curtains. “She’s here,” he whispers, and I step forward and see the top of Jessie’s head visible in the darkened backyard. “Fuck, she must really like you.”

  “Speaking of fuck…” Cole starts.

  “Shut up,” Luc and I command in unison.

  Luc unlocks and opens the window. I step forward and lean my whole frame, from my waist up, out the window. “Come here.”

  She reaches up, grabs my hands and lets me lift her through the window. When her feet reach the window ledge, she puts her arms on my shoulders and I put my hands on her waist and place her softly on the floor in front of me.

  The feeling of her waist under my hands and her arms around my neck makes me instantly hot. I take a step back to quell the feelings, but she reaches out and touches the cut on the corner of my mouth.

  “Cole, let’s go to my room,” Luc suggests quietly.

  “Hey, Jessie…I was just curious…Did you have sex with my brother?” Cole blurts out, his hazel eyes focuses on Jessie.

  Jessie looks stunned. I turn to face my brother, reach out and cuff the side of his head.

  “Ow!” he cries. Luc grabs him and yanks him out of the room, closing the door behind them.

  Alone, two feet from each other, I stare at her. She looks like she’s been crying, and it makes my chest ache. “Are you back together with Chance?”

  “Does it matter?” she asks quietly, glancing up to catch my eye.

  “Yeah, it matters! I…I want to be with you.” I explain. “I broke up with Hannah.”

  She still isn’t looking at me, her head tilted down and her eyes on the floor between us. I can’t see her expression. I drop down, sitting on the end of my bed, hoping to put myself in her sight line. I catch a glimpse of her face and she looks sad. So sad. “I texted you today. Three times. You never responded. And when my car wouldn’t start, I called you but it went straight to voicemail. I assumed you were blowing me off.”

  “My phone died. Remember, I was in Boston with my parents meeting agents,” I explain.

  She blinks as guilt flashes over her pretty face. “I forgot. I’m sorry. How did it go?”

  “Fine,” I reply curtly. “Jessie, are you with him again?”

  “He showed up at the rink with flowers, trying to apologize. I would have ignored him completely if my stupid car had started,” she replies, and our eyes finally meet.

  Jessie’s eyes are the color of moss when she looks at me: dark and serious. I reach out and take her hands in mine. God, I love the feeling of touching her, even when it’s something small like this. I can’t get over how different it feels from touching her just last week, before we had sex. Before, the heat it caused felt exciting but awkward. Now it feels exciting and unnerving in a new way—a way I like.

  “You’re going to go high in the draft next week.” Jessie tells me something the media and my parents have told me a hundred times this year. “Like in the top five. And the first five teams to draw players are Brooklyn, Ann Arbor, Quebec City, Sacramento and Jacksonville.”

  “So?” I say, lacing my fingers through hers.

  “So, I applied to Florida State, University of Arizona and Nebraska State. They’re the only places that offer a full scholarship in kinesiology and sports therapy.”

  I already know this because I helped
her fill out the applications. Being a physical therapist has been Jessie’s dream as long as I can remember.

  “None of those schools is anywhere near where you’ll probably end up next year,” Jessie whispers like this hurts to admit. “We’re never going to see each other.”

  I tug on her hands to make her look me in the eye again. “I’m going to be making a lot of money, Jessie. More than I’ll need. I can pay for you to go to school wherever I am.”

  “Jordan, no.”

  “Yes! I’m going to be freaked out in a new place with no family. I want you with me.”

  “I can’t take your money.” She shakes her head and her gorgeous hair tumbles into her face.

  I reach up and grab her hips and pull her toward me. When her knees hit the edge of the mattress I keep pulling—pulling her down. She knows what I’m doing and without hesitation she puts a knee on either side of me and lets me guide her into my lap.

  My body is roaring with hormones but all I really want to do is hug her, so I do. She wraps her arms tightly around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder.

  “I can’t use your money, Jordy,” she whispers. “I want to be with you, but I can’t do that. I won’t be that girl. I’ve watched girls in this town use hockey players to get a free ride my whole life, and I don’t want to be that.”

  I look up at her. “So, you don’t want to be with me?”

  Her green eyes are gloomy as she rests her forehead against mine. “I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

  “Then who cares how it happens, Jessie?” I ask, and then I do the only thing I really want to do, which is kiss her.

  She kisses me back without hesitation. I feel her body relax, and I use my hands at the small of her back to pull her even closer. Her hands go into my hair at the back of my head and she pushes down just a little bit, making the space between her legs rub against my erection. I lean back, taking her with me.