First to Fall

by Lane, Stacy

  “Did he give you his number?”

  Headlights turn the corner. Placing a hand at the small of her back, I guide Jo out of the street, walking to her car.

  “He did, but there’s nothing he can tell me to give me any real clarity.”

  “Okay I’m trying not to pry but you’re being really cryptic. Are you sure you’re okay?” We stop beside her car door, and I dip down, lowering my height to catch her eyes.

  “Yes.” She nods once with a sigh. “I’m sorry if I seem so dramatic. Freaking out on you for riding in your car. Storming off on everybody when I was having a really fun night for a change. I’m socially inept. Awkward in unsuspecting situations.”

  Her socially inept mouth fascinates me.

  With a grin, I say, “I find it adorable. Keep being awkward, please. And you’re not dramatic. Not in the least, Jo.”

  “Adorable,” she mocks with a grimace. “That word has been used a lot tonight.”

  “Don’t like that word? I have plenty of others I associate with you.”

  “This has been a pretty crappy ending to my night. I know a way you can make it a little better,” Jo coos softly, bringing her shoulder up to her chin as a picture of innocence.

  “Never pegged you for a tease, Jo.”

  “Why do you call me Angel?”

  Tsking, I shake my head. “Well played. But I’m still not telling you.”

  “How ‘bout for a kiss?”

  “Damn. Now you’re just playing dirty.”

  “Worth a shot.”

  “You bruised my ego the last time, remember? Why would I ever kiss you again?”

  “I’m sure I barely put a dent in it,” she shoots back, taking the bait to rile her up. “And I don’t want you to kiss me again…”

  Too bad. Because I do.

  Unsuspecting, I wrap an arm around her thin waist, spinning both of us until her back is pushed against the side of her car. She doesn’t need an extra moment to wonder how to respond to my kiss as she did on Halloween. Her hands lift to my shoulders, holding a firm grasp.

  Head tilting, she gives in. All in.

  A moan escapes her throat and it’s the best damn sound in the world.

  The slap of a stick on the puck used to be my favorite, but Jo moaning from something I am causing her to feel too much of is my new, number one sound.

  I slip my other hand in the fold of her sweater, running fingers up fabric until I’m beneath the thin cotton of her shirt. She’s smooth and warm.

  My tongue dips inside her mouth, and just like that she steals first for best taste.

  She’s pushing the depths of the ground, trying her best to climb higher. With both palms, I cup her ass in those tight jeans and lift until her center meets with mine. One unshakable thrust is all it takes for me to lose sense of everything logical.

  The length in my pants has grown at pressing speed, and after making contact with Jo’s soft center it wants to be let out.

  Jo hikes a leg and I grip onto it with a greedy hand. Another thrust between her legs has her breaking the kiss on an enticing gasp.

  The sounds of another vehicle entering or leaving the parking lot, followed by a flash of brief, bright lights, has Jo gripping the neck of my shirt as she turns her face away from the passing car.

  The headlights fade. The car drives off.

  Our heavy breathing is the only sound accompanying the late night crickets chirping in the distant.

  But the moment is broken. Jo drops her leg, releasing my shirt. I pull back, keeping one arm securely around her.

  “You have to stop kissing me,” she urges with an exerted release.

  “That complaint is not very believable anymore.”

  “No.” She rolls her eyes at the smugness written on my face.

  “How’s the end of your night feeling now?” Eyes fall to her mouth, finding pride in the swollen lips at my doing.

  “Marginally better.”

  Stepping back and releasing my ravenous hold on her, I say, “Night, Angel.”

  Her mouth turns up in a furtive grin as she gets inside her car and drives away.

  Inside Triplets, I take my same stool next to Alex.

  “She good?” he asks.

  I shrug, lifting my beer to my lips in a long pull. With a hidden expression behind the bottle, I reply, “She didn’t want to talk about it. So we didn’t talk.”

  “You actually like her,” Alex says with amazement.

  “She’s quirky and fun. Cam likes her too, and now that you’ve met her I’m sure you get it.”

  “Yeah, I do,” he agrees, staring at the empty stool between us. “Do you know if she’s seeing anyone?”

  The long neck in my hand slams down on the hardwood bar top.

  “Jo’s got this…” he continues, waving a hand in the air as he finds his words, “allure about her. She’s quiet, but then sarcasm shoots out of her mouth and makes you see her differently, you know. She’s sexy because she’s not trying to be. And Mom already adores her, so it seems perfect to go for it.”

  Listening to my brother call Jo sexy makes my skin boil. Hearing him say he is going to pursue her has me sizzling like a hot plate.

  “You tried and struck out. Maybe I’ll have better luck,” Alex grins, shifting back further on his stool.

  “Does having her pressed against her car five minutes ago sound like a strikeout?” I growl with arrogance, proving Alex doesn’t stand a chance. Until trickery falls into place on his face. “Asshole. You said that shit on purpose.”

  “And you fell for it,” Alex laughs. “Brooks, you more than like this girl.”

  “It’s a tale as old as time, Alex. Jo playing hard to get makes me more interested.”

  “Except she’s not playing hard to get. She’s not playing a game at all.”

  No. She’s not. We’ve already established how much she dislikes sports.

  “We have one thing in common. Attraction. It’s not enough to go on.”

  “You have that with every woman you’ve ever been with, Brooks. The fact that you’re looking at attraction as a part of the role, and not the role entirely, proves you want more with Jo. And I think the moment you find it, neither one of you will be able to come up with any more excuses to stay away.”

  I hate that what he said makes no sense, yet makes perfect sense all the same.

  Jo couldn’t be farther from the type of woman to catch my attention. But she caught me in a way unlike all the others with hooks on a line at the ready.

  Drinking more beer, downing half the bottle in one gulp, I hope it will wash away the taste of her kiss. Prove to myself it means nothing beyond a good time I’m hoping to get from her.

  The beer does nothing. I can taste her still. I feel the lines and curves of her body pressing into mine. The way her glasses dislodge, crooked from the fierce way we went at it. My palm tingles with the sensation of gripping her toned thighs.

  “Incoming.” Alex’s voice breaks through my tortured thoughts. His chin juts out, pointing over my shoulder to the left of the bar.

  Werner stands by the curve of the bar, short brown hair cropped and styled like a member of a boy band. His cocky smolder shows he’s up to no good before words even leave his mouth.

  “Labelles. Decent bar you have here.” Noah’s dry tone indicates the opposite meaning of decent. “Couldn’t help but notice you talking to Jo. Are you friends?”

  “Jo’s none of your business,” I grind out.

  Noah’s smirk holds more power than he needs to know. “Lovely girl. Shame what my brother did.”

  “What are you talking about?” Fist balling, the instinct to knock his smug face in takes over.

  He breaks contact on a haughty laugh. “Not my story to tell. Luckily for my reputation’s sake, that tale is dead and buried.” He steps away from the corner of the bar, waving a two finger salute. “See ya next game, boys. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

  Noah’s brother. The mutual acquaintance
.

  TWELVE

  Jo

  Woke up feeling like crap. Literally. A carton of ice cream the night before was not sitting right with my stomach.

  After recent events, I have taken a liking to wine. Never a fan before, but tell someone their dead ex lied about every single part of his life with you and see if that person doesn’t take up drinking.

  Basically, my diet has gone to shit.

  But I still have yoga.

  Yoga is my addiction. Whenever my anxiety levels flare or I’m feeling a huge weight of stress from my family, an hour of yoga at home can take it all away.

  Taytum has been hovering more than usual. What makes it worse, she decided to go see her family in Virginia for the holiday. She never travels at Thanksgiving. They spend the holidays here with Nick’s family, and hers fly down. She’s afraid of leaving me alone for a week will result in me retreating into my shell again.

  I can’t deny it has felt rather good being home these last few days. I haven’t made plans with Chelsea, even if it’s only going to hang at her house while her husband is away. Taytum has tried and failed to drag me out. I haven’t even shopped for groceries. Shipt has been my best friend.

  Excuses for retreating to my old ways have been to use all the bonus points I’ve accumulated with recent activities. Bars, sports events, dining out…kissing a stupid hot hockey player.

  I really am like a hermit crab—left my old shell behind to seek a larger one because I’ve grown.

  My current shell was nice and cozy and there are no plans to leave it for a while.

  After moping about my house all morning, I convinced myself to workout. Yoga would clear my head, for a short period of time, at least.

  My phone rang, I ignored it. A text came through shortly afterward, and I ignored it too. I was rolling into a mountain pose when Alexa chimed.

  Damn technology. There’s no real escape from it anymore.

  “Alexa, read message,” I call out with a grumble.

  From Taytum: “Jolene. Don’t ignore me. Call me back.”

  Two minutes later…

  “I’ve called in reinforcements. Chelsea is expecting you to meet her at the arena. If you don’t show, she said she will send Brooks to your house.”

  In Warrior III pose, I lose balance and fall forward, hands catching me before I eat the mat.

  Pausing my video, I scramble across my workout room. Snatching my phone off charge, I immediately call Taytum. She answers on the first ring.

  “Glad I have your attention,” she says all smug.

  “Please tell me that was a joke.”

  “About calling in Chelse for backup, no. Sicking a gorgeous hockey player on you that you’ve made out with, yes.”

  “You suck.”

  “You’ll thank me later.”

  “Doubt it. I told you I will be fine by myself for Thanksgiving. Being alone instead of going home to my family is a blessing, Tay. Every time I go see them I’m more stressed out than before I left.”

  “I’ll give you that, but you can spend some time with friends too. Chelsea’s at the arena today for a family skate the Fury organized last minute since their schedules were open around the holiday this year. The players skate and play games and have fun with their kids and teammates, and it sounds like a good time.”

  “A good time for you maybe,” I say beneath my breath.

  “Chelsea is there without any family. Go be a good friend and give her some company.”

  “I don’t even know how to skate.”

  “You’ve never been ice skating at least once as a kid?”

  “As a kid, yeah, but that was ages ago.”

  “It’s like riding a bike. You’ll be fine.”

  “I really don’t want to go,” I whine, beg, plead, pour an all-out exaggerated sigh into it.

  “What were you doing when I called?”

  “Yoga,” I reply, wavering.

  “And why were you doing yoga?”

  “Because it relaxes me.”

  “What had you stressing out?”

  “Taytum.”

  “Bullshit, mama.” She fires off with quick responses the way Mad Dog Tannen fires in a showdown. “Your mind is on Kason again, isn’t it?”

  Back teeth grinding, I reply, “It’s not Kason. Remember, it’s Mason.”

  Not only did my rotting ex-boyfriend lie about his childhood and relationship with his family, but he gave himself a new identity while dating me. Makes so much sense now when I think back to the night I desperately ran through the hospital halls after learning about his accident. The nurses kept staring at me funny every time I said Kason’s name. They would always reply by saying “Dr. Werner” instead of his first name.

  He worked at the hospital, and they knew he had a girlfriend, but I had never met any of his colleagues. We had a private relationship. The only reason I found out about his car accident is because I was the last person he called. His next to kin were his parents, who I never heard from after he passed. Kason told me he wasn’t close to them and hadn’t seen them since before he left for medical school.

  When I found out his body had been shipped home for funeral services, I had no way of finding out where that was. Connecticut was all I knew.

  Not one person at the hospital took pity on the girlfriend. I mourned a dead boyfriend that I didn’t get to say a final goodbye to, or get to see buried.

  The last part might be a good thing. I had half a mind to fly out to Connecticut just to stomp on his grave out of spite.

  Our cloistered relationship worked for both of us. I was a homebody, not a clinger nor required attention from my guy. I loved the time we spent together, but I also loved when he worked crazy long shifts days in a row and went to his house during the short period of being off. There were many nights he would slip through my front door when I least expected it, after being days apart. Those were wonderful too.

  We didn’t expect much from one another. Turns out maybe I should have since that’s the reason he got away with so many lies.

  He never mentioned a sibling, let alone an identical twin.

  The horror I felt that night at Triplets when I saw who I thought was Kason sitting there rocked me to the core. I sat in a daze as Noah explained how close he and his brother were. How Mason never mentioned a girlfriend in the many trips he took home throughout the year. He believed his brother had a reason, that Mason shared everything with him and keeping me a secret had to have some kind of motive.

  Noah suggested he and I talk some more, catch up, keep his brother’s memory alive since we shared that connection.

  To be honest, I didn’t want to relive another memory of Kason ever again. As long as I referred to him as Mason, maybe I could accomplish that as there are no memories to attach to that name.

  He’s gone, and there’s no point in arguing with the dead, but the truths are very much alive.

  I’ve been too sheltered, lacked culture, vulnerable to the tricks life can play on a person, and only more recently did I believe I was growing as a human being. That’s something very hard to admit about one’s self. To exist day to day and learn you’ve been clueless about the world and your surroundings is a hard pill to swallow.

  Other people out there suffer way worse than my personal inconveniences, but the fact is we all suffer somehow in one way or another.

  I’m proud of my growth as a woman, but I can’t lie to myself or my best friend. This new information has been like a rock slide on the long road to overcoming my weaknesses. The detour is a setback. And I’m in the car all alone with only my negative thoughts accompanying me.

  Which is why Taytum is so pushy. She knows me well enough.

  “Mason, may he forever be uncomfortable six feet under, is not worth another downward facing dog. That stretch should be saved when a more acceptable partner is standing behind you to watch, and then to proceed with taking you from behind.”

  “Oh!” I yelp. “Tay!”

  �
��Don’t be a prude. It’s really hot when that happens.”

  “Too much information about you and Nick.” Shoulders shake in skeeved-out shivers.

  “It’s bad enough you are going to be all alone tomorrow. Can you just please go interact with people today?”

  “Fine,” I sigh. “What time does this skate day start?”

  “Now.”

  “Thanks for the notice!”

  “Not everything has to be planned, Jo. Shower, dress, go. Easy-peasy.”

  Easy-peasy my ass.

  I’m not one for spending a ton of time doing my makeup and picking out what to wear, but I was today.

  My hair dries naturally straight, but I skipped washing it so I could put a little curl in it since it’ll only hold if it’s somewhat dirty. Then I felt stupid—at least, fashionably stupid—when I adorned a slouchy beanie on my head. I figured this was the one occasion we could ever wear it to in Florida.

  Chelsea met me at the front of the arena where I picked her up. She had me drive to the back where the guard gate was located, and who flagged us in when he recognized Chelsea.

  “I’m happy you decided to come,” she smiles from the passenger seat as I park.

  Whose decision for me to come was relevant, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

  “My only plans for the day was to workout,” I shrug.

  “The offer is still open for tomorrow,” she says, referring to her and Vic going to another teammates house for dinner. Thanksgiving with their family back home already passed, but their teammates celebrated with their families here as well. “Kate and Ryan cook really, really good. You won’t be let down.”

  “Thanks, but I’d rather stay home. No offense to anyone.”

  “Okay. It’s there if you change your mind.”

  “So.” Closing my door, I peer over the hood at Chelsea. “I don’t have skates.”

  “Oh.” She stares at me, probably wondering why the hell I came to skate if I had no skates. Thanks for that, Taytum. “What size are you? Maybe we can take turns using mine.”

  “Eight.”

  “Damn. I’m a six. Oh well, I’ll see if the guys have spares. Sean Vaughan looks like he has small feet.”