Jack: An Enemies To Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Hockey Book 2)

by Violette Paradis

“Come on,” he says. “There’s a bottle of wine with our name on it.”

  He guides me toward the restaurant. As we walk, I can feel everyone’s eyes on us as we walk by.

  “People are looking at us.” I push up closer to him.

  “It’s because we’re an attractive couple,” he says.

  “I thought it was because I’m the weirdo yoga hippie beach bum and you’re the big strong jock.”

  He chuckles and squeezes my hand. “Is that something they should find weird?”

  “Maybe. I know I do.”

  He laughs again. “Well, maybe I’ll try to help you get used to it.”

  As we approach Gianni’s, he pulls the door open for me. Stepping inside, I smell the delicious aroma of garlic bread and spaghetti sauce. The sound of clinking wine glasses and guitar music adds to the romantic atmosphere.

  “This place is so nice,” I say, looking around.

  “I can’t believe you’ve never been here. How long have you lived on Apple Tree Lane?”

  “Two years.”

  “I think this might be the craziest thing about you,” he says.

  I playfully push his chest as he pokes at my waist, pulling me closer.

  “Welcome to Gianni’s,” the older attendant says.

  “Lalonde for two,” Jack says.

  The attendant looks down at a fancy book and makes a mark with a pen. “It’ll just be a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  We step aside and I look up at Jack.

  “Lalonde,” I say. “I keep forgetting you’re French.”

  “Je peux parler Français si tu veux,” his voice croons.

  “Umm… what?” I laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, it sounds extremely sexy, but I have no clue what you’re saying.”

  He laughs. “I spoke French at home but Sylvie—my mom—made sure I went to an English school. She wanted me to be fully bilingual because—” He stops and shakes his head. “Never mind.”

  I furrow my brow. “What?”

  “Let’s have a drink first before talking about our childhood. It’s too early in the date for this.”

  I look up into his dark eyes, wondering how much I still have yet to learn about him.

  The longer I look at him, the more electricity I feel between us. It feels like a perfect time to kiss him but it’s just as he said—it’s too early in the date for that. If we’re taking things slow, then that includes kissing too.

  Needing a distraction from his insanely tempting lips, I pull back.

  “I’m not scaring you away, am I?” He asks.

  I laugh. “No. I’m going to the ladies’ room. Be back in a minute.”

  Walking past the attendant, I make my way through the restaurant to the bathrooms in the back.

  My heart is pounding in my chest. I can still feel the tingling and warmth on my hand from holding his. It’s insane that someone can make me feel like this.

  As I pass by the tables, a familiar curly red mane of hair catches my attention.

  “Chelsea?” I ask.

  My former employee looks up from her menu and instantly looks uncomfortable.

  “Oh. Hi Jemma.” Her voice wavers.

  “How have you been?” I ask. “How’s your new job at the gym downtown?”

  “Great.” She gives me a forced smile as her eyes dart away. “How have you been?”

  “Good.”

  I notice her low-cut top and red lipstick.

  “Are you on a date?” I ask.

  “Umm—”

  “Sorry, that took forever,” a man’s voice says. He approaches the table, ready to sit down.

  My heart sinks.

  “Brendon?” I ask.

  My ex-boyfriend looks up at me in shock. “Jemma!”

  He’s in a white dress shirt and black pleated slacks. This is more dressed up than usual for him. His clean hair is pulled back into a man-bun. Despite his presentation, his face is just as sickly-pale as it usually is.

  He looks down at my red dress and black kitten heels.

  “You look good,” he says. “Really good.”

  I furrow my brow as I look at the two of them. “Are you guys together?”

  Silence.

  I see the guilt on their faces which tells me everything I need to know.

  “You’ve been together,” I say, correcting myself.

  He nods.

  “All this time?” I ask.

  He nods again.

  Tears well up in my eyes against my will. My throat starts to tighten.

  “I can’t believe this.” I look at Chelsea. “And that’s why you quit the studio?”

  “I’m so sorry, Jemma,” she says.

  I exhale, trying to control the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

  “And neither of you had the decency to tell me?” The adrenaline is slowly morphing into red hot rage.

  “It didn’t seem to matter,” Brendon says.

  “Really? Being honest with the person you lived with didn’t seem to matter to you?” My gaze moves from Brendon to Chelsea. “Being honest with your employer didn’t seem to matter? Your friend?”

  “Jemma, listen…”

  “No.” I put my hand up. “I don’t need any more of this.”

  “Is everything okay here?” Jack appears beside me. He touches my elbow as a sign of support.

  Brendon’s head whips around. “Who is this?”

  “I’m Jack Lalonde. Who the hell are you?”

  “He’s nobody,” I say.

  Brendon’s sunken eyes grow wide. “You’re dating someone?”

  I can see that both Brendon and Chelsea are disarmed by Jack’s commanding presence. Chelsea is unabashedly staring at him, drinking him in with her eyes, while Brendon is wrinkling his forehead, trying to process what he’s seeing.

  “Come on.” I put my hand on Jack’s chest. “Let’s go.”

  “Jemma, wait—” Brendon steps forward.

  “Sorry, Brendon.” I look into his eyes. “You made it very clear that you don’t want to see me again.” I pause before pulling away. “And don’t come looking for your vintage shirts because I shredded them all.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, Jack.” Grabbing Jack’s hand, I pull him away from their table and out of the restaurant.

  Jack follows me without complaint. As we exit the restaurant, I let go of Jack’s hand and pace back and forth, blowing off steam as I process what just happened.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I really wanted to have a nice dinner with you but that was awful. Can you believe that’s the first time I’ve seen him since before we broke up? He didn’t even do it in person—”

  I let out a groan as I shake out the nerves.

  “So that’s the infamous ex-boyfriend,” Jack says.

  “Yes.”

  He laughs. “Wow, no wonder you feel weird about being with me.”

  “What’s that mean?” I look up at him.

  “Well, no offense to that guy, but I don’t think he’s ever stepped foot in a gym. Or outside, for that matter. The dude’s pale as fuck.”

  I laugh, releasing some of the tension building up in my chest. “That’s true. For a self-proclaimed environmentalist, he sure liked sitting indoors a lot.”

  My laughter causes tears to stream from my overly wet eyes.

  “I can’t believe they’re dating.” I shake my head. “And they hid it from me. I don’t know which one’s worse.”

  “They’re both bad,” Jack says. “But that guy’s an idiot for letting you go. And that woman is dumb for leaving an amazing studio like The Zen Garden. It’s not worth wasting time being upset because of them.”

  Fishing into my clutch, I pull out a tissue and dab my eyes.

  “It’s not that,” I say. “It’s upsetting that I spent two years of my life with that guy and I didn’t even get the courtesy or the respect of a real conversation to end things. There was no respect, no honesty, nothing. Am I not worth those things?�
�� I look up at him. I know my eyes are probably sad and watery but I don’t care.

  He pushes a strand of hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ear.

  “I can assure you that anything shitty he did to you was due to faults of his, not yours.” His voice is soft and comforting.

  “I hope that’s true.”

  “I know it’s true because it’s impossible for a guy to be that much of a dick to you and not fall for you. Trust me, I tried.”

  I laugh, ignoring that he basically said he’s falling for me. I fan away the last few tears. “I probably look like a mess.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  I look up into his kind eyes. How can one man be so sweet?

  Leaning forward, I slowly press my lips against his. He softly touches my tear-stained cheek as he kisses me back.

  “I was going to wait until after the wine to do that,” I say. “But I couldn’t wait.”

  He smiles against my lips. “I won’t hold it against you.”

  We kiss again before I pull back and wipe my tears one last time. “This is so embarrassing. I can’t believe I cried on our date.”

  “I completely understand if you want to go back home and call the whole night off.”

  “Call the night off? Hell no! I need a cocktail. Like, now.”

  His smile widens. “We can make that happen.”

  “Come on. El Taco Picante has half-price margaritas if you buy more than one taco.”

  He laughs. “I love that you know that.”

  “You in?”

  He grins. “By all means, lead the way.”

  JEMMA

  Half an hour later we have tacos, drinks, and we’re sitting on some rocks by the beach. From here we can watch the waves crashing gently on the shore as the sky darkens. The smell of ocean salt mixes with the scent of taco spices and salsa.

  “I promise you these are the most heavenly tacos you’ll ever eat.” I pull the paper bag open and breathe it in as I close my eyes and moan. “Oh my god, I’m so hungry.”

  Jack laughs.

  “You won’t be laughing when you smell it.” I push the bag near his face, forcing him to take in the scent.

  He nods in appreciation. “That smells pretty good…”

  “But?”

  He looks at me, bewildered. “But what?”

  “It sounds like you’re about to say but…”

  “The tacos smell good, but I’m more of a fajita kind of guy.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say something? I could have ordered you a fajita.”

  “Because you were so excited about the tacos.” He laughs. “It was cute. Plus, I think you need your comfort tacos right now, and I want to join you in that experience.”

  “Good because these are going to blow your mind.” I pull one out and hand it to him. “Eat it.”

  “Yes, boss.” He takes a bite and considers for a moment. “Okay, that’s delicious.”

  “If you’re lying, telling me the truth. I will gladly take your extra taco if you’re just humoring me.”

  He laughs as he stares at me. It’s almost a full moon and the hazy yellow light is illuminating his face.

  “What?” I take a sip of my margarita. It’s in a plastic cup with ice, a lime wedge, and a salted rim. I take a much-needed sip.

  “You recovered pretty quickly after everything that happened back there,” he says.

  I put my drink down. “Those people don’t care about me. They don’t give a flying-you-know-what about me. But I don’t have the energy to waste on people who don’t care about me, you know?”

  “I understand that.” He cracks open a can of beer.

  “So that’s why I’m going to sit here with my hot date, these fucking amazing tacos, this well-deserved margarita, and I’m going to be happy.”

  “Cheers to that.” He holds up his beer.

  I tap my drink against his. We drink.

  “Look.” He points at a young couple walking along the beach. They’re playing with the waves, running in as the tide goes out and running back to safety just as the waves come in. We can hear them screaming and laughing. “Do you think that’s a first date?”

  “No way,” I say. “Too outgoing for a first date.”

  “You were pretty outgoing the first night we met.” He smirks at me.

  “That wasn’t a date,” I say haughtily.

  He nudges me. I smile.

  “Tell me about your last relationship,” I say. “The girl that you started dating in high school.”

  He exhales as he leans back against the rock.

  “We were just like them.” He points at the couple playing in the waves. “Young and infatuated with each other. I remember liking her because we liked the same music.”

  “What kind of music?”

  “EDM,” he says. Noticing my confusion, he continues. “It’s electronic dance music. I’d listen to it before each game. My ex and I went to lots of concerts together. Most of my memories with her are concerts. I was so focused on hockey that when I started traveling with the junior team, I barely saw her. I really thought we could stay together but she couldn’t handle it. Still, I got my heart broken just like any dumb boy in love would.”

  He goes quiet as he looks down at his lap. Even in the darkness of night, I can see the vulnerability on his face.

  “I thought she wanted to help support my career. She told me that she loved me, so she was setting me free. But when I was in town again a month later, she was dating someone new. I was angry. I was still in love with her. Or at least I thought I was.” He plays with the label on his can. “When I confronted her she said we grew apart.”

  “It’s hard to know who you are at that age,” I say. “Even now, I feel like I’m constantly evolving.”

  “True. But it’d be nice to evolve together.” He looks up at me.

  I stay quiet.

  “They ended up getting married last year,” he says. “My ex and her new boyfriend. They were young but I guess they were really in love.”

  “And you went on to become a big-league hockey player,” I say. “So it seems like the breakup worked out for you.”

  “In an ideal world, I would have the career of my dreams and the girl of my dreams.”

  I smirk. “What’s the girl of your dreams like?”

  He exhales heavily. “Well, she’s quirky and interesting. She’s self-sufficient and career-oriented. She’s beautiful, sexy, funny. Has a good sense of humor. Good in bed. Must own a yoga studio and be obsessed with tacos.”

  I laugh. “Stop.”

  I playfully push him and he pushes back. We watch as the young couple walk down the beach, leaving a trail of footprints in the sand.

  “What did you like about Brendon?” Jack takes another sip of his beer.

  Playing with the salt on the rim of my cup, I think for a moment.

  “To be honest, that’s a hard question to answer. He was the first real guy who showed interest in me after I graduated high school. You have to remember, I was an outcast in high school.”

  “Guys never asked you out?”

  “No, they did. I just didn’t want to get into a relationship. I knew they’d all eventually end in heartbreak. And besides, I attracted a lot of nerds and weirdos.”

  “So wait, you graduated from attracting high school nerds and weirdos to attracting adult nerds and weirdos?”

  I cover my mouth as I laugh. This causes one of my tacos to drop onto the rocks below.

  “Oh no!” I lean forward to look at the damage.

  “Party foul. You’re going to anger the taco gods.” Jack laughs.

  “Oh my god, this is so sad! I can’t believe you made me drop a taco.”

  “You can have my extra one,” he says.

  “And just like that, you’ve fulfilled my only criteria for the guy of my dreams. Just give me tacos and I’ll be happy.”

  He laughs. “I can handle that.”

  I smile as I take another sip of my
drink, tasting the salt, tequila, and lime juice on my tongue.

  “So,” Jack says, “if you’re attracted to nerds and weirdos, does that make me a nerd or a weirdo?”

  “Neither,” I say. “You’re a jock. I’m the weirdo.”

  He smiles. “So, we both like weirdos. That’s something we both have in common.”

  Smiling shyly, I avert my gaze. “I guess so.”

  “So, your ex was a nerd,” he says, leaning back on the rock again. “What else did you like about him?”

  “What is this, twenty questions?”

  “I’m just curious why a relationship nihilist like you would get into a relationship at all.”

  “A relationship nihilist?” I laugh. “Don’t you mean a relationship realist?”

  He laughs.

  “Seriously!” I say. “Relationships aren’t like the movies. Love at first sight, flowers bouquet deliveries, and happily-ever-afters don’t happen in real life.”

  “I don’t know… that seems like a depressing view to have.”

  “Aren’t you being a bit judgy right now?” I ask.

  “Hey, that’s another name I haven’t called you in a while!”

  I smile. “That’s true. You get points for that.”

  “Points? I get points? Can I trade them in for anything?”

  I laugh. “We’ll see.”

  Taking another sip of my drink, I can feel myself smiling.

  “So, you hate relationships but you got into a relationship with a nerd because… he showed interest in you?”

  “No. There was more. Sex with him was…”

  I pause and catch Jack’s eye.

  Shaking my head, I wave the thought away. “Never mind.”

  “Sex with him was what?” He leans forward.

  I already feel my cheeks heating up. “I was going to say it was good, but after being with you I think I have to re-classify sex with Brendon as mediocre. Maybe lower than that.”

  He laughs to himself. “Wow. You’ve boosted my ego so much by saying I’m better than mediocre sex with a nerd.”

  I laugh, admiring how cute Jack is. The scruffy hair, the subtle five o’clock shadow, those sparkling eyes.

  “Why are you so obsessed with having a girlfriend?” I ask.

  He finishes off the last of his beer and sets the can aside.

  “It’s not just about having a girlfriend. It’s having a specific friend that you can share life with—the good and the bad. The intimate and everything else.”