“What is it like then,” she asks, and her edgy tone deflates. “Come on, Rebel.” Her soft pleading tone reminds me that she is not the enemy. My walls don’t need to be up around Holland.
“I caught Preston doing drugs in the bathroom,” I say, resigned.
Her perfect dark brows draw together like she has no clue who I’m talking about and then I watch as she has that moment of understanding. Like a light turning on in her mind. “Shit.”
“Big time shit,” I say. “I was freaked at first and then I confronted him about it. He asked me to keep it from Blossom. Can you believe his nerve?” My blood starts pumping hard in my veins. “Oh, and get this. The jerk is on parole.”
“Has Blossom lost her mind?” Holland asks.
“Apparently. She’s all I can think about,” I say. Plus, a handsome hockey player, but I push that thought aside. “I’ll catch her first thing in the morning and knock some sense into her.”
She hasn’t had a boyfriend in over a year, and now she finds the biggest loser in Westfall. How do I tell her what a loser he is? I pause and look at my friend, who is biting her nails.
“I thought you broke that habit,” I say.
“Oh, I did. You just made me really nervous right now and it’s clearly still my go-to when anxious feelings arise. Maybe you should come stay over tonight,” she says.
Holland lives with her dad. Her mom died of cancer when we were eleven years old. He’s a doctor and puts a lot of pressure on Holland to become a doctor too.
“Thanks for the offer, but I need to go home. Blossom needs me. I can’t abandon her. I won’t,” I say.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Holland offers.
“Thanks. I appreciate you being here for me,” I say.
“You don’t need to thank me. We’re here for each other,” she says.
I nod.
Darren walks through the swinging door that leads into the kitchen. “Sorry to interrupt, but the dinner crowd is growing out there.”
Holland gives me a last glance and frowns. “We’ll figure something out,” she says before she leaves the kitchen.
There’s nothing to figure out. Blossom needs to dump Preston, and fast. I stop washing dishes and dry my hands, then I put in my ear pods and crank up some music. I don’t want to think right now and I’m hoping the music will help. I finish with the dishes and head over to the loading dock to bring in the bread orders. I bring the first box over to the kitchen and Matt says something, but I point to my ear pods and tell him I can’t hear him. He nods. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m just not in a social mood.
Holland drops a bunch of dishes off at my station and then runs back out front. Probably to take more orders. I slip on a pair of plastic gloves and start washing again. “Roses” by the Chainsmokers comes up next and I sing along to the song. I turn around to make sure no one is in the washing area and then I crank up the sound and begin moving along to the beat. I can’t dance like I used to. My movements are more rigid, but as the song plays, my mind drifts back to high school, to a time when I was whole. I had been popular. I was on the volleyball team, destined to get a scholarship to college because I was that good.
Someone taps my shoulder and I yelp. When I turn around, I see Wolfe. “Holy shit balls.” I clasp my chest and turn around, completely mortified that I got away from myself.
This is so embarrassing. The crippled girl doesn’t have moves.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, lifting his hands in the air like he’s a soldier surrendering in a war.
“It’s fine,” I say, feeling heat crawl up my neck.
“What song you listening to?” he asks with a small smile. Gosh, those eyes of his are so alluring.
“‘Roses’ by the Chainsmokers. I needed to get my mind off things.”
He nods. “About that. I realized I told you to call me if you needed a ride and you don’t have my number.”
Holland chooses that moment to walk back into the kitchen to drop off more dirty dishes since we don’t have a person who clears them from the tables. I look at my best friend briefly, and her brown eyes are wide as saucers, her plump lower lip is dropped, and I just will the powers that be that she keeps her mouth shut.
“Rebel?” Wolfe says my name because I haven’t taken the piece of paper from him. “Take my number in case you need to get a hold of me.”
I take the paper. “Thanks.” I slip it into the back pocket of my jeans.
Wolfe turns and looks at Holland. “Would you give us a second?”
Holy fuck balls. I don’t know what’s happening. Why has one of the golden boys given me his cell number? I must be living in an alternate universe where my fantasies are coming true.
“Yeah, sure,” Holland says, then she looks at me and smiles so wide I think she’s blinding both of us with the radiance of it. Her reaction makes me blush more.
After Holland leaves, Wolfe turns to me and his features turn serious. “Look, Rebel, if you ever need me for anything, please call. I mean it. If you have trouble with your sister’s new guy. If he ever gets out of hand or whatever.”
“Thanks, that’s really nice of you to offer, but I can handle him on my own,” I say.
“I’m not saying you can’t. I just know how intense things can get when someone is using. You don’t know what this guy is capable of, and we’re practically neighbors. Just hang on to my number,” he repeats, looking intense.
“Okay,” I say quietly while staring into his baby blues. How did I ever think they were icy?
Darren walks through the swinging door. “Sorry, man, but patrons aren’t allowed back here. Insurance policy rules,” he says to Wolfe.
“No worries. I was leaving anyway,” Wolfe says and then he turns back to me. “You have yourself a good night and be safe.” He leaves before I have a chance to answer, or maybe I’m so stunned I’m frozen silent again. Dammit.
“Everything okay, Rebel?” Darren asks.
“Just great.” I smile.
Darren nods and heads back out to the bar.
I get back to washing dishes. This time, I don’t play the music as loud so I can still hear what’s going on around me. As the night wears on, the dishes pile higher and higher.
Holland comes to the kitchen for our break and we head out to the loading dock together and sit, our legs dangling over the edge.
“What in the hell is going on between you and Wolfe Judd?” she asks. “Geez. I can’t believe I had to wait two hours to ask you. He came in and ate dinner all by his lonesome and then he just walked into the kitchen like he owned the place. I had no idea he was coming to talk to you. Darren didn’t see him walk by and—”
“Do you want to know? Or what?” I ask playfully.
“Tell me already,” she groans.
“I honestly don’t know. He was at the Coffee Bean the other night when I was studying. We got to talking. Then he was training in the gym this morning and asked me if I could recommend some upper body exercises,” I say.
“That boy doesn’t need work. He is pure male perfection,” she squeals.
“I know, which is why I don’t understand the reason he’s paying me any attention.”
“Come on, Rebel. You’re so beautiful.”
I shake my head. “It’s definitely not that. He told me he wants us to be friends.”
Holland’s dark brows almost raise to her forehead. “The golden boy of hockey wants to be your friend?” She says it with distaste in her mouth.
“It was definitely a buzz kill. Not that I can complain. I’m way out of his league. I know that, but he’s been nice. He gave me a ride home from school and then I was walking to work and he gave me a ride here too,” I say.
“You walked to work?” Holland frowns.
“It’s not a big deal.” I shrug it off.
“It’s a huge deal. Are you in a lot of pain?” she asks, referring to my leg.
“It’s manageable,
” I say. I would lie and tell her I’ll soak in the tub after work, but in the middle of the night I’ll be exhausted and probably faceplant on my bed.
“Next time you need a ride just call me. I’m happy to swing by your place,” she says.
“Thanks, but it’s fine. I’ll talk with Blossom tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll get rid of Preston and everything will be fine.”
“Okay, but if for any reason she can’t drive you, you call me.”
“I will. Thanks.” I smile. When I think of how Wolfe gave me his number on a piece of paper, I want to shriek. “Did you see how he gave me his number?”
“That was awesome. I can’t believe he did that. From talk around campus, I heard he’s a real a-hole. He only hangs with the hockey team and hooks up with bunnies and tosses them aside. A friend of mine from organic chemistry told me that she hooked up with him and he’s completely heartless. He had sex with her in his bed, they showered together, and when they were done, he asked her to leave. He was cold and he doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“I’ve heard that too,” I admit. “But he’s been nice to me. I don’t know why that is. I mean, it’s not like I’m miss social. You’re my only friend.”
“So why is he being so nice to you?” Holland asks. “He never puts in work to get a girl.”
“I told you that wasn’t it. He isn’t interested in me in that way,” I remind her.
“Just be careful, Rebel. Falling for a guy like Wolfe won’t end well,” she warns.
“I know. Besides, there isn’t any falling. We have these deep talks. It’s weird,” I say, because I never really had a close friend who was a guy. Most guys back in high school were mostly interested in getting in my pants.
Holland bobs her head, but I can tell she’s worried about me. “Just promise me you’ll keep your guard up.”
“Promise.”
Holland stands. “Break’s over.” She gives me a hand so I can get up. I head back into the kitchen and Holland heads out to wait on tables. I don’t play any music because for the rest of the night I’m trying to figure out why Wolfe is being so nice to me. After a couple more hours, I still don’t know what his agenda is, so I tell myself I need to relax. He seems to be genuine and he was kind enough to give me two rides today. He can’t be the heartless guy everyone thinks he is. Can he?
Eight
Wolfe
Over the next couple weeks, I focus on school and physical therapy. I’m not in the mood to party, so every time the guys start piling in the beer kegs, I dip and head to the library, or, like today, I head home. It’s not a place I like to go often, but Caitlyn is there and I haven’t seen her in too long. Snow falls in light flakes as I leave Westfall and head into the city. The Mustang isn’t the best in the snow. I’ll probably need to change the tires come summer while working for my uncle. I don’t intend to think about Rebel for the whole drive, but she sneaks into my mind. I’ve been giving her daily rides to school. We both have to be at the gym before seven a.m. It amazes me how she wakes up extra early to help the elderly members from the community who can’t afford to have physical therapy. Although Westfall is a top-notch private college, the surrounding city is comprised of college students living off campus and old timers who grew up around here and never moved away.
The elderly men and women really like Rebel, and she seems to be more at ease with their age group than with our own. When it comes to training the hockey team in the morning, she slinks back a bit and, of course, that douche friend of hers, Antonio or whatever his name is, is there to encourage her. And, shit, he pisses me off. I don’t know why he has to pay her so much attention. He just seems like another asshole trying to get in her pants, and that infuriates me.
My cell rings and Cole’s name lights the screen. “Yeah,” I answer and put the phone on speaker since my car doesn’t have Bluetooth.
“Where the fuck are you?” My best friend sounds pissed.
“I dipped. Those fucking four o’clock in the afternoon parties you and Dec are hosting are getting annoying as shit,” I say, keeping my eyes on the road.
“No, they make perfect sense. We get drunk and laid early and hit the sack in time not to be burnt for morning practice,” he retorts. “Speaking of which, did I hear Coach right? You can train tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, man. Coach Ramirez wants me to ease back in slowly. The doc just cleared me.”
He hollers like a damn gorilla. Truth is, I’m pretty damn stoked about getting back on the ice.
“It’s good news,” I agree.
“So get your ass back here and party,” he says.
“I’m heading home to see Caitlyn. I had my appointment at the hospital so I’m in town anyway. Figured since I’m not coming home for Thanksgiving I might as well drop in for a visit,” I explain.
“Okay, fine. But when you get back to Westfall we’re having a beer to celebrate,” he says.
“Yeah, if you’re not totally smashed by then,” I scoff. “Speaking of which. Don’t you think you need to lay off the partying a bit? You and Dec have been lagging the last couple games. After break, things are going to ramp up. We need to stay focused. I want the championship more than anything right now,” I say.
I hear him exhale into the phone. “You got a point, Dad. We’ll chill with the parties after Thanksgiving. Speaking of which, are you coming home with me this weekend?”
I’ve been going to Cole’s house for Thanksgiving for the last number of years. The Davises have been nothing but warm and welcoming to me, but this year, I’m just not in the mood. I don’t know what it is. “I think I’ll stay back at the house and catch up on some work. Maybe train a little more.”
“Fuck, man, you’re boring the shit out of me. I’m not leaving you behind on Thanksgiving. Who’s going to buffer between Amber and me? Last time I was home, I swear she was watching me like she wanted to jump my bones,” he says, and I hear the disgust in his tone.
“Sorry, man. You’ll need to deal with your step mommy on your own this time around.”
“Fuck you, and don’t call her that,” he snarls.
“Sorry.” I flinch, knowing it’s a sore spot for him. His mom passed away freshman year of high school. His dad got remarried our senior year. His new wife at the time was a twenty-two-year-old bombshell. To everyone it’s obvious why Amber married Mr. Davis, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit.
“It’s fine. Just tell me you’ll come,” Cole whines.
“Sorry. I need a quiet weekend to refocus,” I say.
He huffs. “Say hi to Caitlyn for me.”
When we were younger, Caitlyn was my annoying little sister who would interrupt our play time, but after what happened, Caitlyn and Cole became friends, and I’m pretty sure my sister has a crush on him.
“Will do. Just make sure you kick everyone out of the house by midnight. I want your top game for practice tomorrow,” I remind him.
“Yes, sir,” he says with a deep, assertive voice. “Peace, jackass.” And with that he hangs up the phone and I pull into the long drive of my parents’ mansion.
The nanny greats me at the door. “Hi, Lana,” I say and give her a hug. She’s been with my family since freshman year of high school and she’s been amazing with Caitlyn.
“How’s the leg? Caitlyn told me what happened,” she says.
“Much better now. I’m getting back on the ice tomorrow.”
“Good luck. I’m sure your team will be champions this year,” she says, and I love how supportive our nanny is. Unlike my father.
“Thanks, Lana.” I take a few steps and walk deeper into the house. “Is he here?” I ask, referring to my father.
She shakes her head. “Washington the next few days.”
Of course he is. That way he doesn’t have to deal with his broken family. He can go on acting as if everything is normal.
“And my mom?” I ask.
“Mrs. Ellison is upstairs on the mezzanine. She likes to look out the
window there,” Lana says, which is probably code that my mother is so far gone she is in outer space staring into the air.
“And Caitlyn?” I ask, just as my sister wheels herself over to me.
“Hey there, big brother,” she says. Her dog Fluffy is by her side as usual.
I lean down and give her a hug and then pat Fluffy’s head. “I got you these,” I say, passing her a box of her favorite chocolate from a master chocolatier on Main Street.
“You shouldn’t have,” she says and takes the box with a sly grin. “Come, let’s go have a seat.” Caitlyn wheels herself toward a large living room space off the main entrance hallway.
I take a seat in one of the wing chairs and Caitlyn parks herself beside me. “Sorry it’s taken me so long to come home,” I say as Fluffy hops up to jump on my lap.
“I missed you too, girl.” I rub her back and she settles on my lap.
Caitlyn frowns. “How’s your leg?”
I look down at my leg and stretch it out. “You know, it’s been kind of a journey,” I tell her. “But it’s better now. I’ve been given the all clear to be back on the ice tomorrow.” Just saying the words causes rancid guilt to crawl all over me. I can’t complain about a break that was fixable. Caitlyn has a back injury and lost the lower part of her right leg. Surgery has been put on the table to help her walk again with a prosthesis, but my sister is stubborn.
“I was hoping to come out and watch a game,” she says. She’s now a senior in high school. She’s chosen to be homeschooled because of her injury and the fact that she’s in a wheelchair. Her saying she wants to see me play in person is a big fucking deal because she doesn’t go out in public much. Not after the news reporters had a field day with our story after the accident. Cait became the center of their attention and it was a nightmare.
“That would be great. For now, I’m just joining in the practices. I’m hoping I can be back to playing in games within the next few weeks,” I say. Except for Caitlyn, I hate being in this house. There are no good childhood memories here. It only reminds me of my lonely, pathetic childhood. A potent mix of anxiety and guilt eat away at me every time I’m home, but I love my sister and I try to be here as much as I can, given my crazy hockey schedule.
Heartless Player: A College Hockey Romance : (Westfall U Series) Page 6