Jonah: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

by Rothert, Brenda

  After the shower, I dress in a dark suit and I’m tying my Blaze-red tie when one of the PR interns approaches and says, “Hey, they want you for press.”

  I groan and nod. Fuck. I was hoping to slide out without doing interviews tonight, but no such luck.

  I go to the media room, and I’ve barely even gotten through the doorway when there’s a microphone shoved in my face.

  “Jonah, who’s this mystery woman you’re dating?”

  I lower my brows with disdain at Jessica Moore, a reporter for a Chicago sports blog.

  “Do you have any questions about the game?” I ask her.

  “I have questions about your game,” she says playfully. “Come on, Jonah, your fans want to see you find love again. We’re all dying to know. Who is she?”

  Jessica irritates me in every possible way. She doesn’t give a shit about hockey—she just wants to stir shit and press players to talk about their lives off the ice. I swear she’s trying to land an athlete husband.

  “I’m not gonna talk about my personal life,” I say. “I never have, and I don’t plan to start.”

  “Just a little hint?” she begs. “All we know is she’s very pretty and the two of you had a passionate kiss in a North Side neighborhood the other day.”

  I stare at her in silence. After a few seconds, she huffs out a sigh.

  “I’m trying to give you good coverage here,” she says.

  Another reporter, Julia Kerr, interjects with, “Jonah, what do you think made the difference for the team tonight? It was a decisive win.”

  I turn to her. “Yeah, it was. And that was thanks to our offense. They brought it hard tonight.”

  “But you held Austin to one goal. What’s your strategy against their offense?”

  Jessica slinks away as I continue the interview with Julia. I’m definitely bitching to PR about getting jumped like that. They usually escort us up to a table to be interviewed by all the reporters in the room. I don’t like getting blindsided by one.

  I know Rey and I are supposed to be seen together, and that coverage of our relationship is the goal. But I’m letting all that unfold on its own. I’ll never feed gossip columns information about her.

  She may not be my real girlfriend, and she doesn’t need me protecting her, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it anyway.

  Chapter Nine

  Reyna

  I’m wearing new Converse shoes for my third date with Jonah. Chicago isn’t a city for uncomfortable shoes. I could take Ubers from here to there and wear the heels I learned to hate in my short time wearing them, but I like to walk everywhere I can.

  There’s so much to see here, and since I’ve only been to Chicago briefly for business, I want to do as much as I can while I’m here. That’s why I asked Jonah to meet me at The Bean to start our daytime date on this fall Sunday.

  The other reason is because it’s time to step things up and get our fake relationship into the spotlight. Now that I’ve seen that Jonah has what it takes to help me complete this undercover case, I’m ready to push my way into Darren Shields’s view.

  Even though it’s fall, it’s still pretty warm, and I’m comfortable in my cuffed jeans and maroon T-shirt. Kai put waves in my hair and then put it up in a pretty, sporty ponytail, and he applied my makeup just a little more subtle than usual. With a dark crossbody bag hanging at my hip, I’m comfortable and ready for my date with Jonah, which will hopefully catch the eyes and ears of some locals.

  As I approach Cloud Gate, the official name of the big, reflective steel sculpture in Millennium Park that locals have dubbed The Bean, I’m able to spot Jonah immediately, because he’s already drawn attention. A small group of people is clustered around him.

  “Hey man, can we get another one with my brother in it?” a man is asking him.

  “Sure,” Jonah says.

  The guy snaps a couple selfies and asks Jonah if he thinks the Blaze will make it to the playoffs this year.

  “I hope so,” Jonah says, grinning.

  A woman cozies up to him for another photo, pressing her temple to his cheek. Jonah takes it in stride, smiling but not putting his hands on her like she’s doing to him.

  “Hey guys, I gotta go,” he says as he signs an autograph for a boy and passes the paper back to him. “My girlfriend’s here.”

  People start looking around, and when they follow his gaze to me, the looks turn to stares. As Jonah walks over to me, camera phones are whipped out of pockets and purses. My heart skips a beat as he approaches and I realize…I was wrong.

  Jonah’s not really pretty at all. I mean, his eyes are definitely pretty. But wearing a gray T-shirt, black shorts and tennis shoes, with dark blond stubble and a backward baseball hat, he looks…manly.

  He puts his arms around my waist and pulls me close, murmuring “hey” as his lips meet mine for a kiss. This one is nothing like our first. I smell his light cologne and feel the press of my soft curves against his hard chest as his tongue gently brushes mine. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of my neck as he pulls away, resting his forehead on mine.

  “I like the ponytail,” he says softly.

  “Thanks,” I manage, breathless.

  He slides his hand around mine and asks, “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving,” I say, even though it’s only 11:00 a.m.

  Kai and I made the homemade scrub videos this morning, and we barely had time to finish that and get me ready for this date. I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.

  Jonah lists a few different eateries in the area. “Are you hungry for breakfast food or lunch? There’s a good seafood place nearby, lots of great bar food places, or we could get some Chicago dogs.”

  “Oh!” I smile brightly. “I want to try Chicago hotdogs.”

  “Let’s do it. I figured we could walk to Navy Pier and stop there on our way.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  He keeps hold of my hand as we walk, the sunny skies and light breeze making for a perfect day to be out in the city.

  “Great game the other night,” I say. “I watched it with my roommate.”

  “Thanks. Did you like watching it?”

  “I actually did,” I admit. “It’s hard to see the puck on TV, but I liked the announcers telling me what was going on.”

  “You’ll like it a lot more when you see it in person.”

  “My roommate asked if you’ve ever been hit in the crotch by a puck.”

  Jonah laughs. “Many times, yeah. But my gear protects the family jewels.”

  “Have you ever been injured?”

  “Yeah, lots of times. Goalies get lots of knee, hip and groin injuries that sometimes become long-term issues. I tore the meniscus in my knee my second pro season and had to get surgery.”

  “So the gear doesn’t always stop injuries.”

  “No, not at all. Guys get sliced by skate blades, that’s always a brutal one. I made a tourniquet out of a belt for a guy on the other team who had his leg sliced open during a game in college.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t believe all the injuries that have happened. I’ve heard of guys rupturing testicles.”

  My mouth falls open in shock. “No way! How horrible. Do you worry about that stuff?”

  “Nah. No point in worrying. I stretch a lot to prevent injuries and that’s all I can do.”

  “So I noticed all the other guys take turns playing, but you were out there the whole game. Do you get tired?”

  “Not really. I don’t have to skate up and down the ice like the rest of the team. It’s more mentally tiring for me. The physical work all happens outside the games for goalies.”

  “So you’re the only goalie on the team?”

  “We’ve got a backup, but I start the majority of the games. It depends on injuries or sometimes on our game schedule.”

  “Is the backup as good as you?”

  Jonah grins. “Hell no, he’s not. Our defensemen protect me and i
t’s rare for me to not play a whole game. There’s a saying that goalies are like testicles. You have two, but you’d rather not lose one.”

  I laugh hard at that and say, “Lots of talk about testicles on this date.”

  “Testicles don’t get enough love,” Jonah quips. “We should talk about them more often.”

  “I think if testicles could speak for themselves, they’d want a different kind of love,” I crack.

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  My next words fly out of my mouth before I have time to think about them. “Have you been with anyone since losing your wife?” As soon as I realize what I’ve said, I cringe. “I’m so sorry, don’t answer that. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Jonah’s smile is easy. “It’s fine. I’ve been with a couple women since, but it was only one time with each of them.”

  “Was that hard for you?”

  He’s silent as he gathers his thoughts before replying. “Yeah, it was. The first time, anyway. At a certain point I think your physical urges just kind of take over, though. For men, anyway. It’s probably different with women.”

  “I think so. Women are always thinking, you know?”

  He laughs. “Always. Every single second.”

  We walk in comfortable silence until we arrive at a little restaurant where Jonah opens the door and places his hand on my back as we walk inside.

  Once we’re seated, Jonah scans the menu and says, “We’ve gotta get some chili cheese fries, they have amazing ones here. Obviously we’re gonna get some Chicago-style dogs, too. And don’t ask for ketchup, whatever you do.”

  “How big are the hot dogs?”

  “They’re decent sized, but if you’re hungry, I’d get at least two.”

  I take his advice, and end up eating every last crumb of my two hot dogs and a lot of the fries, too. I think Jonah and I are both pretending we don’t see the guy snapping photos of us from a corner booth of the small restaurant.

  “If you see photos anywhere of me inhaling those hot dogs, I don’t even want to know about it,” I say under my breath as we leave the restaurant.

  “You looked like a Chicago girl having fun,” he says. “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “It was fun,” I say. “Thanks for taking me.”

  He takes my hand again as we walk and I ask, “Why are we getting along better now?”

  “I figured you decided to lose the chip on your shoulder.”

  I whip my head around and take in the serious expression on his face, and as I wind up with a fiery response, he bursts out laughing.

  “I’m joking, Rey.” He squeezes my hand. “It takes time to adjust to someone new, you know? And I thought I’d never be on a date with any woman but my wife for the rest of my life. But we’re working through it.”

  The reverence in his voice every time Jonah mentions his late wife makes my heart ache. He’s a truly good guy. And while his stubble and perfect smile and toned body are attractive, it’s Jonah’s heart that makes him dead sexy.

  “It was my fault,” I admit. “That first date. I let the Cuban out.”

  Jonah gives me a puzzled look and I laugh.

  “I was mostly raised by my Cuban grandmother. I’m a lot like her, and I’ve had to work hard to train the temper and loudness out of myself. Not that it’s wrong or anything—no one means more to me than my grandmother did—but it’s not the right fit for my work. I had to learn to be more…forgettable, I guess.”

  “I’ve got bad news for you,” Jonah says, amused. “You’re not the least bit forgettable.”

  “Well, I’m working on it.”

  “Don’t.” He turns serious.

  “I have to, for work, especially while undercover.”

  “I get that. But the rest of the time, be that hotheaded Cuban. You’re not meant to be forgettable.”

  My heart warms at his compliment. “Thanks. But for me, there is no rest of the time. I’m pretty much always working.”

  “And that’s by choice?”

  I nod. “I love what I do with my whole heart and soul. It’s not a job, it’s a calling.”

  “I feel the same way about hockey.”

  We get to Navy Pier, joggers and families with kids passing us by. I stare at the huge Ferris wheel, and Jonah asks me, “Wanna ride it?”

  “Yes! Will you ride it with me?”

  “Of course.”

  Jonah buys us tickets, and when we slide into the little cage we’re riding in, I feel a childlike burst of excitement. I grew up poor and there wasn’t extra money for amusement parks or vacation trips.

  “Will it go fast?” I ask Jonah.

  “No?” He wrinkles his brow. “Have you ever been on a Ferris wheel before?”

  “No, this is my first time.”

  Jonah slides his thumb across his phone screen and holds it up, taking a picture of me. I slide closer to him, snuggling into his side like a real girlfriend would. He’s warm, and every inch of him is hard with muscle. Once we’re cuddled up, he takes the cue and snaps a few selfies of us as the Ferris wheel starts moving.

  At the top, I take in a stunning view of the city.

  “Incredible,” I murmur.

  Jonah’s not looking out at the skyline; he’s looking at me. He takes some more photos of just me, and another of us together. I savor every moment of the ride, wishing it never had to end.

  But it does, and as soon as we get off, Jonah takes my hand again and leads me to a guy nearby with an easel set up in front of him. He’s drawing caricatures, and Jonah asks him to do one of us.

  There’s only one stool, and Jonah doesn’t offer it to me. Instead, he sits down and pulls me onto his lap. I wrap my arms around him and we both look at the artist as he quickly draws us together.

  I’m trained to notice things, and it’s not lost on me that the guy who was shooting photos of us at the restaurant is once again taking pictures of me and Jonah at the pier. My new identity won’t be a mystery much longer.

  After the artist passes us a photo with exaggerated features that make us both laugh and deny any resemblance to our actual selves, Jonah and I walk through a few boutique shops and stop for ice cream. By evening, I realize it’s been the best day I’ve had in a long time.

  “You have plans tonight?” Jonah asks me as we finish our ice cream cones.

  I’m a little disappointed as I admit, “I’m having movie night with my roommate.”

  “Another date soon?” he asks me.

  “Yes. I had fun today.”

  “Me too.” He tosses the wrapper from his cone into a trash can and takes my hand again. “I’m gonna Uber you home.”

  “No, I can just get one myself.”

  “I’m taking you home, Rey.”

  “I’ve been getting myself home for almost two decades now.”

  Jonah smiles. “It’s not that I don’t think you can, okay? I just want to.”

  I concede and nod. Jonah orders an Uber through the app on his phone and we ride the short distance to Kai’s place. Once there, Jonah gets out with me and walks me up to the top of the stairs outside the building. He cups my cheek in his hand and kisses me with the same passion he showed earlier, wrapping his free arm around my waist and drawing my body against his. My heart is pounding hard and fast by the time he backs away, leaving me a little dizzy.

  “How was that?” he asks under his breath.

  “Amazing,” I say softly.

  He leans his forehead against mine and says, “I thought so, too. We’ll be all over the news by tomorrow morning.”

  My heart sinks with disappointment as I realize he wasn’t asking about the kiss, but about the date we staged to make our public debut as a couple.

  “Thanks,” I say, forcing a smile.

  “See you soon.” He grins and takes off his baseball hat, pushing his hair back before putting it back in its backward position. “Enjoy movie night.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  I go inside then, not lookin
g back, and squashing the butterflies in my stomach, because none of this is real. My social life is so nonexistent that even a fake date while working undercover has me worked up. Ridiculous. This is only work. Nothing more.

  Chapter Ten

  Jonah

  I pick up my pace as I jog the block between my downtown parking spot and the deli I’m meeting Rey at for lunch. I hate being late, but my mom was so excited about me dating someone that I couldn’t get her off the phone earlier.

  I was hoping she wouldn’t hear about it, but the photos of me and Rey from yesterday are everywhere. One of my mom’s friends called her to tell her, and my mom cried actual tears when I told her it’s true. I felt like a real asshole lying to her, but at least when the truth comes out I can blame it on my brother.

  When I scan the seats at the small deli for Rey, I spot her at a booth for two people, and I make my way over there. Her face comes into view and I’m surprised to see that her eyes are narrowed and her lips are set in a thin line. She’s pissed.

  “Hey,” I say, bending down to kiss her cheek before I slide into the seat across from her. “You okay?”

  She continues to just glare, and I feel like a bomb’s about to explode inside her. Finally, she whispers, “Don’t look, but there’s a complete asshole in the booth across from us.”

  “Did he say something to you?” I furrow my brow, fighting my urge to look at the guy.

  “Not me.” Rey looks like she wants to murder the guy, her eyes dark with anger as she whispers. “His wife came in all excited and happy about her new haircut, and that motherfucker told her it’s too short and he jumped her ass about why she didn’t ask him before getting her hair cut. Can you fucking believe that?”

  I glance over at the guy, who is ranting at the woman sitting across from him. He’s balding and looks like he’s in his 40s, with a doughy body and gray scruff on his face. The woman across from him is looking down at her lap, a curtain of dark, chin-length hair hiding her expression.

  “And you wonder why I notice other women?” The man shakes his head, looking disgusted. “What do you expect, when your ass keeps getting fatter? No man wants his wife to have short hair, how many times have I told you that? You just don’t listen, and I’m—”