Contents
1. Jesse
2. Charlotte
3. Jesse
4. Charlotte
5. Jesse
6. Charlotte
7. Jesse
8. Charlotte
9. Jesse
10. Charlotte
11. Jesse
12. Charlotte
13. Jesse
14. Charlotte
15. Jesse
16. Charlotte
17. Jesse
18. Charlotte
19. Jesse
20. Charlotte
21. Jesse
22. Charlotte
Roman and the Hopeless Romantic
Roman and the Hopeless Romantic
About Michelle
Also by Michelle MacQueen
2020 Michelle MacQueen
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is entirely coincidental.
This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Printed in the United States of America
Cover by Image © DepositPhotos – Karel Noppe
Cover Design © Designed with Grace
Editing by Melissa Craven
Proof Editing by Caitlin Haines
This one is for hockey. Love of the sport has gotten me through the difficult parts of life.
1
Jesse
"Jesse King Carrigan skates in, slowing to weave around defenders as if they mean nothing to him. It's just him and the goalie, no one else standing in the way of the glorious Stanley Cup. He pulls back and releases a slapper from the left dot. Score!" The puck hit the back of the empty net, and Jesse's arms shot into the air as he yelled and skated around the deserted rink.
A grin stretched across his face as imaginary sounds from the crowd crashed down around him.
"You're ridiculous." The only actual person present laughed from her perch on the half-wall near the bench.
Jesse turned his grin on his sister, not stopping his victory lap. "You're just jealous," he shouted. "Not everyone gets to score the winning goal in the Stanley Cup final."
She lifted a brow. "In your dreams, bro." Hopping off the wall, she walked across the ice in her tennis shoes.
Jesse had been trying to get her in skates for years, but Cassandra Carrigan wasn't one for joining. He’d promised no one would be at the rink this early on a Saturday morning and that was the only reason she showed up.
Jesse skated toward her, not looking at his feet as the front of his skate hit a rut. He couldn't stop the momentum as his legs flew out from under him, and his butt slammed into the ice.
Cassie crossed her arms over her chest and smirked down at him. "Real smooth, Jess."
"Just practicing my falling skills." He shrugged as he brushed ice from his jeans. "You know, so it doesn't hurt when it happens in a game."
"Didn't they teach you how to fall in intro to skating when you were like five? You know the one thing that's more painful than playing hockey?"
He pushed himself to his feet and looked down at his sister, knowing where she was going with this. He didn't ask.
She answered her own question, anyway. "Having to watch you play."
"Not cool, dude." He wrapped his arms around her waist before she could stop him. She squealed but couldn't break free as he picked her up and pumped his legs, gaining speed.
"Put me down, Jesse!" She had a death-grip on his arms.
"Say please."
"Please."
"Say you didn't mean it. That our team is awesome."
"Jesse." She grimaced as he finished one lap around the ice. "I won't lie for you."
He kept skating, a grin cracking his lips as his sister squeezed her eyes shut. A year younger than Jesse's eighteen, she couldn't have been more different. There wasn't a risk-taking bone in her body, at least not anymore.
They’d switched places over the last two years with Cass preferring safety and Jesse going for the risk.
"Fine," she yelled. "The Gulf City Hurricanes are the best thing to ever happen to hockey. Happy now?"
He slowed and lowered her feet to the ice. "That'll do."
"The things I say for you." She shook her head and crossed the ice again, pulling herself back up to sit on the half-wall.
Jesse retrieved his stick and tapped it against the wall near her feet. "We do kind of suck, don't we?" The joking gone from his voice, he sighed.
"That question sounds like a trap."
"It’s not."
"Well..." She paused. "Then yeah, you guys kind of make my eyes bleed."
"Thanks for the imagery."
"I live to please."
Jesse laughed, but he couldn't get her words out of his head. The Hurricanes hadn't always been bad. When he made the team as the only freshman, they won the league. Now, in his senior year, the season was almost halfway over, and they had yet to win a game.
"We have to do something."
Cass narrowed her eyes. "Who is this 'we' you're talking about? You remember who I am, right?"
He did. Cassandra Carrigan didn't do people. In fact, she avoided them at all costs. Two years ago, she’d been walking in downtown Tampa with their parents when a gunman shot their mom. She'd watched their mother die in front of her, and since then, she refused to go out in public. Two years of taking high school classes online and staying in the house had turned her into a hermit.
Jesse never pushed her, but he invited her to the rink whenever he was sure it would be relatively empty. She watched his games, but from the safety of her bedroom on a delayed stream.
He shook thoughts of his mom and that awful day away. "Okay, I need to do something about it. It's my last year of playing. I can't let us go down in such dramatic flames."
She kicked her feet against the wall. "It's not like you can suddenly teach these guys how not to fall on their butts."
"No, but there has to be something." His team shouldn't be as bad as they were. They played in top-notch facilities owned by their coach. He lifted his eyes to the rafters where old team banners hung. Their coach played for a decade in the NHL, and he couldn’t even whip them into shape.
"I think the guys need a bit of tough love. I'd basically pay you to go all captain on Roman."
"Roman?" He laughed. "He and Damien are the only guys on the team who can put the puck in the back of the net. Besides me, of course."
"So humble, brother."
He grinned. Most people just thought of Cassie as the golden boy's weird sister, but she was his best friend. Everyone else would love her too, if they got a chance to get to know her.
Living in Gulf City, Florida was like living in a fish bowl. Everyone knew everything about their neighbors. Locals glommed together to withstand the tourist seasons. It had its benefits, to be so close to everyone you grew up with, but for anyone different, it wasn't such a good thing.
He wanted an easier life for his sister, just like he wanted his team to win a game. One.
But neither seemed possible.
"Think we should get home?" Cass hopped off the wall.
Jesse’s shoulders dropped. "Probably. Dad said he had to work today, so Will and Eli are probably driving him up a wall."
The twins were six when they lost their mom. Jesse didn't know if that made it easier for them, or if it was better to have both the years of memories and the grief.
Since that day, their family changed in more ways than just losing a mom. Jesse loved his dad and was grateful he provided for them, but he put all of his grief into his work and never quite came back from it. As a high-profile lawyer, his clients were demanding.
His kids tried to be less so.
Jesse took care of his siblings when he could. Sometimes he was all they had. He was lucky to have Cass and Mary—the twins’ part-time caretaker.
"Yo, Jess!" Roman's voice boomed across the ice. The tall, blond boy waved from his spot near the tunnel to the locker rooms.
Cassie went still. She knew Roman, Jessie's best friend. He’d once been her friend too, yet she rarely spoke to him … or anyone else anymore.
"You okay?" Jesse asked. It was a question he knew bothered his sister because she never wanted to answer it. Yet, he worried about her, and that would never change.
She nodded.
He gave her a long look before skating across the ice. "Rome, man." They bumped fists as they'd done a million times before in their lives. "What are you doing here?"
"Lifting in the weight room." He shrugged. "Have to keep my strength up.” For what, neither of them knew. Even his optimistic best friend knew their hockey season was toast.
"Some of us are actually preparing for the next hockey game."
He flashed his teeth in a half-smirk, half-smile thing Roman was good at. "Good on you, man. Still trying."
Jesse bristled at that. Of course, he was still trying. The season wasn't over yet. He reached out and shoved Roman back. "You just know you won't get better no matter how hard you practice."
Roman grinned. "That a challenge, pretty boy?" He'd been calling Jesse pretty boy since the girls started fawning over his long lashes and bright blue eyes when he was barely a teenager.
Jesse gestured to the ice. "Be my guest."
"I'll go get my skates." He turned back into the tunnel.
Jesse skated back to where Cassie still stood. "He's going to shoot around with me."
She made a sound in the back of her throat but didn't utter a word.
"Go ahead." Jesse knew her too well.
"Why do you insist on keeping him around?"
"You don't like Rome?" He pursed his lips. Everyone liked Roman Sullivan—including the old Cassie. But he shouldn't expect this new version of Cass to be like everyone else. "I'll tell him to leave."
"Something tells me you're going to be the one leaving." She nodded toward a very angry looking girl marching toward the ice, her figure skates digging into the rubber flooring.
"Jesse Carrigan," she huffed. "Do you know how to read?"
He swallowed heavily as he always did when faced with Charlotte Morrison, the gorgeous daughter of Coach Morrison and most forbidden girl in the entire school.
He couldn’t take his gaze from the storm building in her eyes.
2
Charlotte
"Do you know how to read?"
As soon as the words left Charlotte's mouth, she wanted them back. They sounded like an insult from a five-year-old.
Who the heck says stuff like that? Apparently, she did.
She'd arrived at the rink for her early morning session as she’d been doing every Saturday for as long as she could remember. But there he was, messing up her ice. Ice she'd expected to find smooth and waiting for her to make the first grooves.
The kids at her school—athletes in particular—thought the world owed them. They didn't work for their privileged lives. Sure, her parents provided everything she needed, but she couldn't remember ever not working toward something greater, whether she wanted to or not.
"Do you speak?" she snapped, annoyed Jesse stood there gaping at her. At school, they called him "the king" because his middle name was King, but also because he was at the top of the food chain. She didn't know why. He was a somewhat capable forward on her dad's losing hockey team. Not something to brag about.
It wasn't like he'd medalled in every competition he'd entered since he was nine. Oh, wait, that was her.
Jesse seemed to recover from his brief moment of stupidity—if that was even possible. A smile spread across his lips, charm oozing out of his every pore.
"Why, if it isn't my favorite Charlie."
"That's not my name." She sat on the bench and bent to remove her skate guards.
"For the record, I can read just as well as anyone else."
The girl dirtying the ice with her street shoes snorted, and Jesse threw her a playful scowl.
Whoever she was, Charlie pitied her. Jesse Carrigan never dated anyone for long. She tried to put a name to the face, but she'd never seen the girl before. If she had, she'd remember. Dark hair that matched the shade of Jesse's and wide innocent eyes. Both aggravatingly attractive. Yeah, they looked good together.
Charlotte pulled out her phone and opened the rink's app her dad created. Simple, yet effective. She tapped the calendar for the rink's schedule and held it out for Jesse to see, pointing to the screen. "Saturday, January third—Charlotte Morrison."
He leaned his stick against the boards. "Oh, I don't look at that thing."
Of course, he didn't. She sighed. Jesse Carrigan wouldn't care if he inconvenienced anyone else. Most people would move aside for him and let him have his way.
Charlotte was not most people.
She skated out onto the ice and looked back at him. "You can go now."
"What? Why? We can share the ice. I promise I don't bite."
The unknown girl coughed, and Charlotte would have sworn it sounded like "hopeless."
Whistling came from the tunnel moments before Roman Sullivan appeared. Great, just what she needed. Another jock.
Roman stopped when he saw her. "We playing two on two?" He grinned. "Come on. Cass can be on my team. Jesse you take the ice princess over there."
Charlotte turned her back on them, skating a lap around the rink. She wouldn't let them see her react to their names. Ice princess wasn't anything new. The kids at school made it no secret what they thought of her. Only her friend, Hadley, understood her drive.
She turned down every invitation to a party, every date, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Her mother wouldn't have it any other way.
Charlotte tried to ignore the three people watching her as she picked up speed, losing herself in the familiar feel of the ice beneath her feet. It didn't give her excitement, not anymore, but there was comfort in the act.
Maybe comfort was enough.
She finished her first lap and came to a stop, spraying ice toward Jesse. He didn't react. Instead, he studied her. "Your skating... it's so smooth."
Smooth? Real creative. "You've been living under a rock, Carrigan." She turned away from him once more. "I'm better than smooth." She'd never doubted her skating. It was the one area of her life she felt confident, in charge. Without skates on her feet, all of that faded away, leaving only a shy girl behind.
Roman howled in laughter behind her, but it cut off as another voice entered the rink.
"It's time you leave." Grace Morrison always knew how to make an entrance.
Charlotte closed her eyes for a brief moment. She thought she'd had more time before her mom showed up for their training session.
Yes, Charlotte Ann Morrison spent every morning training with her mom. Normally, that didn't bother her, but the kids at school would now think she was an even bigger loser than they already did. She looped back around to where her mom stood.
"Mrs. Morrison." Jesse smiled. "It's nice to see you."
Her expression softened, and Charlotte rolled her eyes. If anyone was an ice princess, it was the former ice champion, Grace Morrison. Yet, even she was putty in Jesse's hands.
"Jesse, I'm sorry to say we have this rink reserved this morning." She offered him an apologetic smile. The woman was never apologetic.
"That's not a problem, ma'am. I was just telling Charlotte here how much I admire her technique."
"Well, that's very nice of you,
young man. My husband is very fond of you."
"He's a great coach. It's an honor to play on his team."
Charlotte stifled the urge to roll her eyes again. "A lady never rolls her eyes," her mother would say. Jesse was honored to play on her father's losing team?
"Mom." She crossed her arms over her blue sweatshirt. Training was the only time she was allowed to dress so casually, and she hated anyone seeing her like this.
Her mom glanced up as if she finally saw her daughter. "Well, we must get our session started. You have a lovely day, Jesse."
"You as well, ma'am."
"Oh, none of that. Call me Grace."
Jesse nodded, flashing a final smile Charlotte's way before draping his arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders and leading her and Roman down the tunnel to the locker rooms.
Her mother's kind expression dropped. "Start your laps."
Charlotte sighed and took off. Her life was a series of training sessions, diets, and nights at home in their silent house. She didn't have any siblings, so she received her mother’s undivided attention.
Her mom wanted Charlotte to become a clone of the young Grace Morrison who won two national skating titles and would have gone to the Olympics if not for an injury.
Charlotte was never going to the Olympics, but she traveled around the surrounding states, stealing podiums. She didn't know when it stopped meaning anything to her.
Maybe when she started senior year of high school and realized she barely remembered anything from the previous three years. No dances. No pep rallies. No boyfriends. Few friends.
Only an endless loop on her parents' rink.
She went through the training session like a robot, pulling off every move her mother called for with precision but little heart. It would be enough to medal in the small competitions she entered.
Jesse and the Ice Princess (Gulf City High Book 1) Page 1