Holdout: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Jaqueline Snowe

  “Do you want that?”

  “I don’t know, Ryann.” He stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, of all days for this to happen and I can’t even go on a run.”

  He looked so broken, distraught even, I got up and walked to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting the side of my head on his chest. It felt nice, right, somehow, with our bodies pressed together.

  It distracted him for a second, his body getting tighter before he brought his arms around me. “You hate touching.”

  “Yeah, not right now though.” I squeezed him harder, taking in his clean laundry and soap smell, and did not run my hands up his back. I rested them nice and polite on him and waited for Jonah to end the hug. Thirty seconds went by, then more, and he made no move to end it.

  He rested his chin on the top of my head and sighed, the sound piercing my heart. I decided that yes, his mom was alive, but this pain was sharper and harder to understand than me losing my parents. There wasn’t a competition for who was allowed to be sadder, but in the months after losing them, I got caught up in how unfair it was that it happened to me.

  This was unfair too.

  “You’re shaking,” I said, leaning back and staring up at him. “Jonah, hey.” I frowned, holding his dark brown stare for a beat. “Want to know what I did after my parents died?”

  He nodded and blinked, his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. His eyes were beautiful, soulful, and an open window into his thoughts. Right now, he was swirling into despair.

  “Binge-watched shows.”

  He scoffed, and I reached up to cover his mouth with my finger. “Shh. I know you don’t have time for it, but we’re stuck here for at least the rest of the day, bud. I’m telling you, Stranger Things is addicting and you can’t stop watching. We’ll be able to finish it in one day too.”

  “I don’t watch TV a lot.”

  “I understand. Trust me, this show will distract you.” I slid off him, already feeling the loss of his warmth, and went to the TV to get the show ready. He watched me carefully, and my face heated, remembering what happened when we both sat in front of the screen before. “Okay, it’s loaded. Grab a snack and buckle up.”

  “I have my shake.” He shifted, his movements jerky and stiff, completely opposite of how he was on the ice. He plopped down on the couch, not quite on one end, leaving me to either sit right next to him or make a point to sit against the opposite edge.

  He grabbed one of the pillows and tossed it against the end furthest from him, meaning my only option was by him. My legs felt like Jell-O as I joined him, our thighs touching as the show started.

  I had seen the show before, every season, but it was on my list to rewatch at some point, and today seemed like the right time. He remained stiff for the entire first episode, not making a single movement. By the second, he relaxed and set his empty shake on the ground. I snuck a glance—his eyes were narrowed at the screen.

  “You like it,” I said, elbowing him in the side. “Admit it.”

  “It’s fine.” One side of his mouth quirked up, and he sighed, relaxing further onto the cushions. His weight caused me to slide into him. My left shoulder leaned against his, and our legs were completely side to side. My heart raced with the contact, but my goal hadn’t deviated. He needed comfort, as a friend.

  Friend.

  “I can stop the episode.” I held up the remote, pausing it from playing the next episode. His gaze sliced through me. “Yeah, you’re not into it. I’ll keep watching in my room,” I said, toying with him as I stood up. He gripped the back of my shirt in his large hand and yanked me back onto the couch, the action so unlike him I gasped.

  “Give me that remote.” He leaned onto me, his chest inches from mine, and reached out to try and get the device. His breath tickled my face as he looked down, his eyes lighting up in challenge. “I’ll take it from you.”

  “Will you now?” I squirmed, moving my hips to adjust to the weight of him. Jonah sucked in a breath, his lips parting at our position. I didn’t move though.

  Neither did he.

  His gaze dropped to my mouth for a second before he snatched the remote from my hand. “Got it.” Once he held it, he moved back and had the biggest, goofiest smile on his triumphant face. He pressed play and positioned himself further into the couch, completely relaxed and not giving anything away.

  My stomach somersaulted over and over, doing an entire gymnastics routine as I tried to catch my breath. He totally flirted with me, yet he looked too relaxed. I sighed and crossed my arms, moving one leg over the other to put some space between us. My attraction to him was becoming a problem, even though I said I could ignore it. I could.

  But I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

  It was tough, but I focused on the show rather than his body movements as the third episode concluded. He stretched, making the smallest groan, and I clenched my legs together.

  “God, it feels good to be right,” I said, smirking when he turned toward me. “You are so hooked.”

  “It’s…decent.” He shrugged, his fingers twitching on the remote. He studied me, his tongue tracing the side of his lip. “Cocky is not a good look on you.”

  “It’s a fantastic look on me.”

  “Yeah, I lied. It is.”

  Shit. Did his voice get warmer, or was I making it up? His brown eyes turned into pools of lust, causing me to forget why this wasn’t a great idea. His breathing got heavier, his jaw tightening as he seemed to take all my air.

  He leaned closer just as I put my hand on his incredibly hard and toned thigh. I wasn’t sure if I was encouraging him or trying to stop our touches from escalating as his face drew near. My own lust reflected back to me in his eyes, and his fingers seemed unsure when he curled them around the back of my head, guiding my face closer to his. God, I had never wanted to kiss anyone as much as I did him in that second.

  Being the sole focus of Jonah Daniels was addicting.

  “This is bad idea,” he said, his lips grazing mine as he spoke. I shuddered when his grip tightened, our lips a hair apart. “Tell me to stop, please.”

  His other hand rested on my hip, as if he was restraining me from jumping on top of him, and I slid my hand up his side all the way to his arm. He was hard, everywhere. I bit down on his bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth with a wet pop as someone banged on the door.

  Life’s not fair.

  “Fuck,” he yelled, leaping off the couch and wiping his hands over his face. He closed his eyes, tilted his head toward the ceiling, and mumbled something that sounded like what am I doing before adjusting the evident bulge in his shorts. Jonah headed for the door.

  Cold washed over me the longer he was away. It was like his body heat transfixed me, scrambling my thoughts until he took over. I grabbed the pillow and hugged it to myself, the evident regret on his face making me embarrassed.

  “We’re all done with the stairs.” The guy in the yellow hat from earlier stood at our door, an easy smile on his face. “We’ll bill the owner, but you two are free to go. Thanks for the patience.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Jonah’s voice was deep, controlled, commanding. “Appreciate it.”

  “Call my cell if it feels off. If it rains within the next two days, it could cause the new foundation to shift.” He nodded at Jonah, then me, before heading back down the stairs with loud footsteps.

  Once the thuds stopped, Jonah shut the door, leaned his back against it, and took a loud breath before he leveled his gaze at me. “I’m heading to the gym. I need to get out of here.”

  “Okay,” was all I could say.

  He grabbed his shoes from the doormat, took his keys from the small bowl on the counter, and without a backward glance, he left.

  Guess we weren’t going to talk about our almost kiss. Something sticky, awful, and not unlike guilt crept down my body, making my stomach hurt. This was Michael’s teammate. My roommate. What if we kissed and hated each other in two weeks? What if Michael found out and
messed up Jonah’s shot at the scholarship? What if Jonah didn’t forgive me? Where would I live then?

  Wasn’t there a rule about roommates hooking up?

  I blew my hair out of my face and dug my toes into the carpet for a second, grounding myself before escaping the confines of the two-bedroom apartment. I’d head to the coffee shop and see if Hannah needed time off. It would be better than waiting around feeling awkward when Jonah came home.

  Yes, it’d be better if I was gone for the rest of the day.

  “I think I’m staying in school another two years.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked my brother a few hours later. We sat at Beans N Books, Hannah insisting she stayed busy—apparently it helped ease her anxiety over her ex—and demanding I relax. My nervous energy needed to be put to use, so I texted my brother for a coffee, and he arrived ten minutes later.

  The fact he would drop whatever he was doing for me made my heart swell. He might be my only family left, but he made up for the absence of our parents with his protective, large heart. “Why wouldn’t you graduate in the spring?”

  “Mom and Dad left us some money for tuition. I’m here on a scholarship,” he said, his voice strained, like it physically hurt to talk about them.

  I understood the pain. It hit me whenever I mentioned them too.

  “So, you’ll blow two years of school? For what?”

  “Getting my master’s in business administration. It’ll give me the platform I need to start a good career when I’m done here.” He took a drink of his lemonade and broke the brownie into pieces on his plate. His gaze moved to Hannah for a second before returning to me. “Don’t get mad.”

  “I sense a but coming.”

  He flashed a quick smile. “I’m not thrilled that this program is hours away. It’s killing me a bit, actually. I know you want your independence but… I won’t be able to check in with you all the time. I’ll miss you.”

  “Michael,” I said, my voice laced with anger and understanding. The thought of him achieving his goal brought me a huge amount of pride. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Fine? Yeah, I’m sure you would be, but that’s not okay for me. I want you to be happy and successful.” He cracked his knuckles and studied me for a good minute. “You look tired.”

  “I’m a bit hungover from last night. How are you unaffected? It’s annoying.”

  “One of my talents.”

  “Well, you suck, and I hate you.” My smile took away any seriousness of the words, and he rolled his eyes. “But really, if you need to move across the country or travel around the world, do it. Mom and Dad wouldn’t want you stuck here watching out for me.” My voice remained strong even though the thought of not seeing him every week made me sad. It was a double-edged sword to want him to live his life, but also that meant no random lunches, or dinners, or coffees.

  “I’d like to think that… we can stay close, even as we grow up.” He cleared his throat, and his expression turned serious. “I hear some of the guys bitch about their siblings getting into their shit, being the favorite child, all that nonsense, and I don’t want that to happen with us.”

  “It won’t.”

  I almost kissed Jonah.

  “It won’t,” I said again, pushing the thoughts of what almost happened out of my mind. “This emotional side of you is new. You sure you’re not hungover or at least feeling sick?”

  His body language changed from stiff to relaxed, and he winked as Hannah walked to our table. “Hannah, my favorite barista.”

  “Owner,” I corrected him. “She owns this place.”

  “Wait, I didn’t know that.” He sat up straighter, and his smile grew at my boss. “That’s badass.”

  “It is, thank you for noticing.” She met my eyes as her brows drew together. “Anyway, Ryann, here is the schedule for this week, assuming you don’t have any more stair issues.”

  “Stair issues?”

  “Yeah, no big deal.” I told him what happened, the pair of them hanging onto every word. “It’s fixed now though.”

  “I’m glad J.D. took care of it.” He winced. “I need to check this place out.”

  “Ah,” I said, my ears burning hot. “Jonah has this thing about visitors. Not sure if it’s the same for teammates, but we even have the rules written on our fridge. Our first addendum is to allow Preston though,” I said for Hannah, who paled. “He’s always allowed.”

  “Yeah, I think J.D. can handle if his captain wants to stop by to see his sister. Paxton and Patrick think this shit is hilarious and want to check the place out too. I’d really like to see Jonah try and stop me.” He laughed, like the idea was ridiculous and unbelievable. It caused an uneasy knot in my stomach. Bringing Michael back to the apartment would be like dumping ice cold water onto Jonah, solidifying that what almost happened would never happen.

  And I really didn’t like that outcome.

  “So, when can we stop by?”

  10

  Jonah

  Two days since Ryann bit down on my lip and gave me a small taste of her, and I still couldn’t stop thinking about it. Two days since we had spoken more than twenty words to each other and it was my fault.

  I stayed in my room when she was home and waited for her to leave before going into the kitchen. Anything I could watch on the TV, I could access on my phone. Practice went well, my form on point and my body feeling even more primed for the season to start, yet the hot shower and fresh clothes did nothing to wipe the gross sensation growing in my chest.

  She’d done nothing wrong, and I was acting like she had. Dammit.

  Tuesday night was supposed to be when I completed all my discussion questions for classes, took quizzes, or did any work due that week, but my focus was shit. I cracked my neck side to side. Her soft footsteps stopped outside my closed door, and I tensed.

  She knocked twice. “Hey, J.D.”

  Back to that name.

  “If you have a second, I need to ask you something.”

  Great. She’d want to talk about the almost-kiss and why I’d been an ass, avoiding her. It was a real question she deserved to know the answer to, and I braced myself, hoping to be honest and firm. I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment, but it couldn’t be more.

  “Sure,” I said, realizing I remained quiet too long. I padded to the door and opened it, my breath catching in my throat at the way she looked. It wasn’t her outfit, which was a T-shirt and cut-off shorts. It was the slumped shoulders and the way she wrung her fingers together.

  Like she was scared of me again.

  She took a breath, met my eyes, and drew her brows together. “I know you won’t allow visitors, but my brother has been asking the last two days to stop by. I told him about the stairs, and he’s obsessed about making sure they’re okay. It can be when you’re gone or something. I just… want to respect your rules, but I’d like if he could stop by.”

  Christ. I ran my hand over the back of my neck, squeezing it and hating myself a little bit. “Yeah. Of course he can.”

  “Great.” She smiled her toothy grin, and warmth spread across her face. “Thank you. He’s a pain in the ass, but I love him. Also, the twins will probably come with. You know how tight they are.” She brushed her hair behind her ears. “Is there a time that works? I know tomorrow is for reading, so maybe tonight? Or tomorrow during the afternoon?”

  “Whenever, Ryann. Don’t make it about my schedule,” I said, my voice a little rough.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I said, unable to stop looking at her face. The freckles, the eyes so blue they matched the summer sky, the full lips that tasted like icing when mine touched hers for a half a second. This was why I avoided her. This pull to her. “You started at the café officially, right?”

  “Yup.” She moved on from our conversation and went back to the kitchen table where her school materials covered the tabletop. Her hair was in two braids, each ending on either side of her face. She sucked her lip into her mouth an
d frowned when I approached. “Oh, are you coming out here? I can go back into my room.”

  “What? No. You can… you can stay.”

  “But how will you avoid me then?”

  Oh god.

  Her words weren’t laced with venom. If anything, the soft voice made it worse. Death by a thousand papercuts. “Ryann,” I said, gulping as my throat got too tight to speak. How did I communicate my thoughts to her? “It’s not… I’m not…fuck.” I closed my eyes as shame consumed me.

  “You’re right.” I met her gaze and expected her to be mad, victorious, or gloating even as I admitted the truth. But instead, she pressed her lips together, and the blue of her eyes dulled.

  Her disappointment was the worst feeling. I sighed and sat in the chair opposite her, trying to figure out the right play. Did I admit everything? Yes. I hated lies.

  But I didn’t get a chance to explain that avoiding her was safer for both of us.

  My phone buzzed, Mom flashing across the screen over and over. My pulse raced in my ears, and I had to fight for each pull of oxygen into my lungs. I froze, unable to silence the phone since I was incapable of reaching for it.

  She’s calling. It’s happening.

  Rage and hurt and fear coiled inside my body, flashes of my dad’s face damn near paralyzing me. It wasn’t until Ryann said my name, soft and hesitant that I snapped to the present.

  “Jonah, hey, you okay?”

  Was I?

  No. Not at all.

  “My dad warned me she would call,” I said, my voice flat and void of emotion. “It shouldn’t be a surprise, but it’s like someone punched me in the gut.”

  “You’re allowed to feel that way.” Ryann chewed on her lip and hesitated before putting her small, soft hand on mine. “I’m trying to read your mood. Do you want to talk about it? Want to suffer in silence?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I stared at the phone, all the things I wanted to say to Mom blurring in my mind. I hated what she did to me, to my dad, and the fact she didn’t care about our feelings. I hated her. My jaw ached from grinding my teeth, and I pushed out of the chair, desperate for something to do when it buzzed again.