Playing Defense (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance)

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Playing Defense (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance) Page 10

by Aven Ellis


  “I was so feeling you, Batman,” I reply.

  Now a huge smile lights up his face.

  “Good, because I was certainly feeling you.”

  We both laugh.

  I’m amazed at all the things I’m experiencing inside after that kiss. Chemistry. Affection. Adoration. Desire. Respect . . .

  All because of this incredible man sitting next to me.

  “JP?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for being such a good man,” I say softly. “I want you to know that’s a good thing in my world. A very, very good thing.”

  JP is quiet for a moment. I know I’ve touched him with my words. I’m letting him know I’m not like the girls in his past, the ones who wanted a project to fix, a bad boy to chase, or fights and drama.

  I’ve never wanted that.

  I wanted a good man.

  As I look at JP, I know that’s exactly what I have.

  These thoughts I have about him should terrify me. I shouldn’t be thinking about JP on this level or reacting to him in this way. This isn’t casual, and the way I’m feeling could lead to heartbreak.

  But I don’t give a damn about what could happen.

  All I care about is this moment.

  Which means telling this man how extraordinary he is.

  “Thank you,” JP finally says. “I’m glad you’re the one saying these words to me.”

  My heart flutters from his words.

  “I’ll tell you a million times over if I have to. I’m grateful you are who you are. I feel so lucky to be here tonight with you.”

  JP lowers his head and kisses me, slowly, sweetly, nothing like the last kiss, but one showing pure affection for me.

  I love it.

  He breaks the kiss and smiles at me. “I know I just said it, but I like you, Reese.”

  I grin back at him. “I like you too, Jean-Pierre.”

  “Do you enjoy saying my given name?” he asks, his eyes dancing at me.

  “I confess, I love saying your name. It’s so exotic sounding to my ears.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Why?” I ask, giggling.

  “Because I like hearing you say it.”

  “Jean-Pierre.”

  JP dips his head down and kisses me, and I feel nothing but pure bliss from his gentle kiss.

  He breaks the kiss and tenderly studies me. “Maybe I’ll have to kiss you every time you say it.”

  “Jean-Pierre, Jean-Pierre, Jean-Pierre,” I say happily.

  JP grins and kisses me again.

  I’m more than willing to say his name the rest of the night so I can continue kissing him.

  And I intend to do just that.

  Chapter 15

  September 15th

  Today’s Schedule: Shoot yoga workouts at Matt & Holly’s, 8 AM

  I pull up behind Matt’s Lamborghini that’s parked in his circular drive. I am dead tired. It is going to take all my skills to appear energized in the yoga sessions I’m shooting today. I might have to zoom out farther than usual to hide the dark circles under my eyes.

  Hmmm. Or should I address lack of sleep as part of Real.Life.Reese and explain that this sometimes happens and show how yoga can be a part of the energizing process to get you going after a rough night tossing and turning and looking at the clock?

  Or, in my case, using yoga to renew after a night of kissing so passionately my lips went numb, spending hours cuddled in the strongest arms I’ve ever known. Talking and laughing and continuing to discover an amazing man with the most delicious European accent. The one with the unforgettable pale green eyes with flecks of brown and gold that draw me in deeper and deeper every time I look at them.

  Suddenly, it’s happening again. As I lose myself in thoughts of JP, a tingling sensation rushes through me. It’s foreign to me. I’ve never had this surge of excitement from mere thoughts about a man.

  My senses acutely recall everything about him, from the spicy scent on his skin to the veins running through his muscular arms to the way his voice sounds like he downed a shot of whiskey. The way I can hear his heart through the fabric of his shirt, the way his fingers feel in my hair, and the way his lips are practically made to kiss mine.

  All of this is tripped when I think of him. It’s new and amazing, and I’m in awe of it.

  As I’m stepping out of the car, Matt comes out through the front door. JP said they were going to skate today with Harrison Flynn, the captain of the team.

  “Good morning,” Matt says, a smile lighting up his face. “Need some help with your stuff?”

  I smile back at Matt. It’s funny that we were a setup attempt last spring. While Matt is attractive and a good guy, and I adore him as a friend, we weren’t a match at all.

  Matt has always been destined to be with Holly, and she with him, in a love story that seemed written before they ever met.

  Like mine is with JP.

  In shock, I drop my purse on the driveway. Fear grips me. Love story? I scramble to the ground, stuffing the contents that have spilled out on the pavement back into my bag as panic builds in my chest. I mean, I know I have feelings that are exciting right now, and JP has proven to be everything a woman dreams of, but it’s been three days.

  And we’re only hanging out.

  A love story involves many chapters and pages and black moments, or so Holly explained to me, and unlike the fantasy romance she writes, there’s no guarantee of a happily ever after for any relationship.

  I know what she has with Matt is rare. She can write about it for a living because most people don’t find it.

  Like my parents.

  “Here, let me help,” Matt says, his voice cutting through the anxious pounding of my heart.

  “No, thank you, I’ve got it,” I say, forcing a smile on my face and bounding back up.

  I see Matt is studying me, and shit, I need to distract him.

  “But you can help me with my gear,” I say, turning from him and walking to the back of the car.

  “This might be JP’s job soon,” Matt quips.

  The second Matt says JP’s name, the tingling starts all over again. It feels strange when combined with the panic that is increasing in me.

  With a shock, I realize my emotions could be setting up to fight each other over JP.

  No, this makes zero sense. I know what I want. Lack of sleep and excitement are creating delusional desires in my head. There is no rational reason to want anything other than a causal relationship with JP.

  The reality is JP and I are hanging out.

  Period.

  Mentally, I close the book.

  Our story is written.

  No revisions will be needed.

  I open the trunk, revealing my video equipment, and turn to Matt.

  “You know JP better than anyone,” I say, forcing my voice to sound light and casual while a train wreck is going on inside my head. “You know we’re casual.”

  I quickly look down into my trunk to avoid his gaze, and retrieve my yoga bag.

  “I do know JP better than anyone. He’s my best friend,” Matt says, picking up my video equipment for me. “I think you could be the one to give him the one thing he wants more than anything.”

  I stop breathing as his words hang in the air.

  “JP doesn’t want a relationship,” I say. “He made that clear.”

  Matt doesn’t say anything.

  “What?” I ask, my heart hammering nervously against my ribs.

  “And neither do you, according to him.”

  Despite all my cries of wanting us to be casual, my heart drops into my stomach.

  JP must want to keep things the way they are bet
ween us if he made a point of telling Matt that.

  While my brain is agreeing that I want that, too, the sudden aching in my heart tells me it is beginning to disagree.

  “JP and I are on the same page,” I persuade myself to say.

  “You are,” Matt says, slamming the trunk shut, “and you’re both full of shit.”

  I freeze and look at him. “What?”

  Matt flashes me a smile. “Don’t panic. You two crazy kids will figure it out.”

  I’m about to grill Matt when Holly walks out.

  “Good morning,” she says cheerfully, stepping out on the front porch. I notice she is holding Puck, their cat, and he’s content in her arms. “Do you want some coffee while you set up?”

  “Um, no, not right now,” I say, as coffee is the last thing my suddenly jittery stomach needs.

  I take a moment to grab the two açaí bowls I have in the passenger seat, then I walk up to greet Holly, who is watching me with an inquisitive expression on her face. I know she’s going to ask about JP the second Matt is out of earshot.

  “I brought breakfast,” I say. “You can go ahead and eat. I’m going to wait until after I shoot, though.”

  “I can wait,” Holly says as I follow her inside. She gives Puck a kiss on the top of his head and sets him on the floor. “I’ll have coffee and work while I wait. Here, let me take these.”

  “Do you want this on the patio?” Matt asks, coming in behind us.

  “Yes, thank you.” I hand the bowls to Holly. “And thank you.”

  Matt passes us and heads out to the lushly landscaped pool and yard. Big trees provide some leafy shade and cover enough of the pool to give me the perfect natural lighting. The array of hostas and bright pink and white impatiens provide a beautiful pop of color, too.

  “How was your date with JP last night? I kept waiting for updates, but you never messaged me,” Holly says. “I’m dying to know how it went. Dying.”

  It’s one thing to be cool with Matt, but Holly is my best friend. I can be a bit more candid. Excitement rushes over me, as I find it does whenever I think about JP.

  “Spectacular. Breathtaking. Wonderful. Amazing. Astounding. Mind-blowing,” I say as soon as I open my mouth.

  Then I realize I sound like I’m describing sex with JP.

  “I didn’t sleep with him,” I quickly add. “That was just from being with him. Kissing him. Only kissing.”

  Apparently, there’s no chance of stopping Real.Life.Reese from responding to her bestie when the topic is JP.

  A huge smile lights up Holly’s face. “He must be a good kisser, that Swiss One.”

  I spy Matt coming back up to the door from the patio.

  “Shh,” I urge.

  “As soon as you’re done shooting, I want all the details. Because JP must be extremely talented if the way you are glowing is any indication.”

  Ugh.

  Matt opens the door and steps inside. “I put your stuff in the usual spot, near the pool fountain.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going to get to work.”

  I step outside, the warm morning sun already hot against my skin. I move to my favorite spot outside in Matt and Holly’s gorgeous backyard, the one next to the babbling water wall in their pool. I roll out my mat on the deck, using the blue water and trees as my backdrop, and then I go about setting up my video equipment.

  I think about how far I’ve come since I first started. When I decided to post a few videos about me preparing some healthy meals and doing some of my workouts, I used my phone. As my following started growing, I used my modeling money and invested in good equipment: video camera, lighting kit, tripod, microphones. I took photography classes and studied online. I watched YouTubers I admired and noticed how they shot their videos. I shot so many bad videos as practice. Ugh, those were cringeworthy. But I got better with each one.

  Only when I was truly prepared, did I launch the Real.Life.Reese website at the end of last May. I knew from doing my homework that the launch was critical and that my website and social media needed a cohesive look. I needed to have content lined up and high-quality videos available, as well as workout plans that I thought followers might want to try. I also wanted to be done with school before I went through with it.

  And now?

  More than 90,000 followers on Instagram, advertisers paying me to promote their products, and followers devouring my workout plans and food tips.

  Unreal.

  I finish setting up my camera, and then I clip on my lavalier microphone, which is the one I use when I’m moving around a lot during filming. It’s wireless and hooks up to my camera, which is perfect for today’s yoga shoot.

  I reach for my backpack purse, grab my compact, and see that my makeup is set. I spritz on a bit of makeup setting spray to give me that dewy finish. I flip through my routine notes, reviewing my script. I will start with my greeting before talking about focusing on the practice and shutting out the outside world. Next, I’ll present my theme for this video—self-love and share my little story for why I want to focus on that today. Finally, I’ll go over breathing techniques, move into the sequence of poses for this beginner practice, and end the video.

  Of course, shutting out the outside world means shutting off my phone, too.

  I bite my lip as I get ready to turn it off. I haven’t heard from JP since last night. After tearing myself away from him to go home in the wee hours of the morning, I texted him to say I got home safe. That was the last time we spoke.

  Well, you wanted casual, I remind myself. JP doesn’t have to contact you the next day. Or in three days.

  Or ever again.

  My stomach slides at that thought.

  After last night, I can’t imagine JP disappearing.

  Of course, I’ve done that very thing to guys. I’ve talked, laughed, had fun, and kissed them knowing, as soon as the date was over, I would never see them again.

  Surely, JP wouldn’t do that to me.

  I don’t want him to do that.

  Because despite all my efforts, I do care. I shouldn’t. It’s safer if I focus on self-love and not love-love.

  I shake my head. Enough of this emotional drama. I’m a businesswoman who is about to go to work. If JP messages me today, great.

  If not, no big deal.

  I turn the phone off and toss it back into my backpack.

  Yet despite all my bravado, I hope with all my heart I hear from him soon.

  Chapter 16

  “Would you please text him already?”

  I glance up from my phone. I’m sitting next to Holly at her spacious kitchen island. I’ve finished one yoga shoot, and I’m having a break with Holly before I shoot the second. Then I can finally eat breakfast, though with my stomach in knots, my açaí bowl sounds incredibly unappealing.

  “I don’t want to bother him,” I lie.

  Because the truth is, I do. But if JP wants casual, then he doesn’t need me texting him and appearing desperate to hear from him the night after we made out.

  “He’s on the ice right now. It’s impossible for you to bother him.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  Holly gets up and heads to her coffee machine, selecting a K-Cup out of her silver rack.

  “Why are you so afraid to talk to him? JP is a good guy. I know he’d love to hear from you.”

  “I don’t want to be needy.”

  “Do you hear yourself? Since when is texting a guy you had a phenomenal date with being needy?”

  “Because I’ve never felt this way before,” I blurt out. “I’m not used to this.”

  Holly cocks an eyebrow. “Now we’re getting somewhere. You’ve never wanted a guy to text you before.”

  I
glance down at my phone, which has pinged with a notification.

  Dammit. Still not JP.

  “Just do it,” Holly encourages as she slides a mug under the coffee dispenser.

  “No. I don’t want to bother him.”

  “Please, you do not bother him. His super fan the Swiss Miss? She bothers him.”

  “What?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

  “JP has this super fan. She’s not crazy, but she loves him and goes to practices all the time to see him, all the games, and any event he’s at. She always wears a tank top that looks like the Swiss flag with tiny cutoff shorts and cowboy boots. Her social media ID is JPsSwissMiss.”

  I grab my phone and pull up her Instagram, and sure enough, a sexy twenty-something blond is smiling back at me. I read her profile info:

  MISSY WELLINGTON: Dallas Demons obsessed and future wife of JP Rochat. College student studying fashion design. Loves puppies and iced coffee and shopping. Dreams of Zurich nights with JP LOL.

  I study her page, which reflects her profile. It’s filled with snaps of her with friends, her design journal, fashion layouts, puppies, and assorted Starbucks drinks.

  And JP.

  Lots and lots and lots of JP.

  Ugh.

  I get out of Instagram and push the phone away.

  “I’m not texting him.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Holly says, pouring some half-and-half into her mug. “Trust me, if you shoot him a text asking how he is, he’s not going to go running to Swiss Miss.”

  I groan. “This is all new to me. I’m not used to this.”

  “Even when you first started dating your ex-boyfriend?” Holly asks, sliding onto the stool next to me. “You never got the anxious, ‘Should I text?’ or ‘Will he text?’ kind of feeling in the very beginning?”

  I think for a moment about how to answer.

  “It was different with Drake,” I say. “I liked Drake. He was funny, good-looking, pre-law, you know, the kind of guy you want to ask you out. I was happy to go out with him. It was nice to be part of a couple.”

 

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