Not a Player (Laketown Hockey Book 1)

by A. J. Wynter

  She looked at me and completely softened. “I overreacted. I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I did too,” I whispered into her hair.

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked. “For the cross-training.”

  I scooped her up in my arms and tossed my hat onto the coffee table. “Cardio and core.” I kissed her hard and took the stairs two at a time back to her bedroom where we made love, or, fuck that, what we did was hot, sweaty, dirty – and most importantly – pulse racing.

  AFTER I DROPPED KANE at his cottage I came home and had a long steamy shower. The sex with Kane had left me exhausted, and true to our cross-training strategy, my entire body was sore - the good kind. I stayed in the shower until the hot water tank gave up its battle and the water ran cold.

  As I padded to my bedroom, I heard rustling from downstairs in the kitchen.

  “Jessie,” Dylan shouted. “Is there any hot water left?”

  “Ah, no, sorry.”

  I heard him groan. “Why didn’t you call me last night?” he shouted.

  “I was busy,” I yelled from behind my closed bedroom door.

  “What?” he shouted.

  I threw on my chip truck clothes and opened the door, “I’ll be down in a sec. Stop yelling.”

  Dylan was sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for me. “You look like...”

  “Shit?” I interrupted. I took an apple from the basket on the counter and crunched a huge bite.

  “I was going to say tired,” he said. Dylan’s work clothes were just as stained as mine, only his were mostly motor oil and probably blood. His eyes were hooded and his skin too sallow for this time of year.

  “Ditto, bro. You look like a zombie.” He glanced at me, the circles under his eyes matched the dark blue of his work shirt. I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined him at the table. “Dylan, you can’t keep going like this.” He looked like he was about to fall asleep in the chair.

  “We need the money, Jess.” He jerked awake and took a sip of his coffee.

  He wasn’t wrong, and it made my heart ache to see him looking so defeated. A garment bag was draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “What’s this?” I started to unzip the cover.

  “My suit, for that fundraiser tonight.”

  “You’re going to the Gala?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Yeah. Coach wants the entire team there. All the guys are going.”

  “Even though you’re suspended?”

  Dylan laughed. “Yeah, even though I’m probably getting kicked off as soon as the exhibition game is over.” He played with the handle of his mug, his lips forming a tight line.

  My heart surged and ached at the same time. If Dylan wasn’t an Otter, then Kane and I wouldn’t be breaking the stupid team code. But that team had kept my brother out of trouble for the past few years. If it weren’t for hockey, Dylan would probably be in jail right now, or, I gulped, dead. “You don’t know that,” I said.

  Dylan shrugged, but I knew that he cared.

  “Are you taking a date to the Gala?” I thought about Paige and wondered if the two of them were still messing around.

  “Nah, just going to show my face and come home.” He finished his coffee and then poured himself another. “Is it okay if I take the car tonight?” He sat down at the table. “I completely forgot to check with you.”

  “That’s okay. We haven’t seen each other much these past few weeks.”

  “I guess that’s what having two jobs does to a person. Ships in the night or whatever the hell that saying is.” Dylan smiled at me.

  “Three jobs,” I said.

  Dylan paused mid-sip. “Three?”

  “I’m serving at the Gala tonight, Paige got me the job through Valerock – they’re catering it. She’s picking me up after my shift at the chip wagon, so you can have the car all night. As long as you promise not to—”

  “Drink?” Dylan said. “I actually quit. I haven’t had a drink in days.”

  “Really?” Then why do you look like shit, is what I wanted to say, but didn’t. Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind Dylan. My eyes looked exactly like his. “Dylan, we can’t keep up this pace forever. I want you to stop working nights.”

  “That’s not your decision, Jess.”

  “You’re right.” I scratched the back of my head. “But I know why you’re doing it, and I’m not going to take the money. I’ve decided not to go back to the Academy.”

  A weight lifted off my shoulders as the words tumbled out of my mouth. Words that I hadn’t planned, words that had never crossed my mind until that very moment. We were killing ourselves to scrape together money to send me back to the Academy. I couldn’t do that to Dylan anymore. My mind immediately rushed to visions of waking up with Kane, of summer nights around campfires, and skinny dipping under the full moon. Of having the kind of summer life that I only dreamed about while I was busy lacing up my skates.

  “Oh, shit.” Dylan pushed away from the table and almost tipped over backward on his chair. “I can’t believe I forgot.” He ran to the living room. He returned with a piece of paper in one hand and an Otters’ hat in the other.

  “Why didn’t you call me last night? I said it was important.” He returning to the kitchen holding out Kane’s hat like an accusation. The number eighty-eight was stitched into the back of it, there was no mistaking its owner.

  “I was tired. I fell asleep,” I muttered while my brain raced a million trying to formulate an explanation for why Kane’s hat was in our house.

  “Jess. Was Fitzy here?”

  “He left that,” I pointed to the hat, “at the rink after practice. I was going to bring it to our next practice.” I didn’t look at Dylan while I lied.

  Dylan turned the hat in his hands a couple of times and then tossed it to me. “You don’t have to give up, Jessie. The insurance money came through.” He set the paper on the table in front of me and smoothed it out. The bold ‘approved’ stood out amongst the paragraphs of jargon. “You can start back at the Academy right away, and with the money we’ve saved, we should be able to get you one of those costumes designed by that fancy Russian company.”

  I scanned the letter, it was less money than we had expected, but more than enough to pay the Academy’s tuition. I should’ve been happy, but instead, my stomach clenched into a knot, my visions of campfires and night-swimming disappearing as quickly as they arrived. “Dylan, I’m not going back.” The second time the words came out, they came out with conviction. I wasn’t going back, I was going to stay right here, with Kane.

  Dylan set his coffee cup on the table, much harder than necessary. “What the hell is going on with you? You have to go back.”

  “Maybe next year,” I said. “I’ll put my half into a savings account.”

  Dylan tilted his head and stared at the ceiling, then brought his face between his hands. “This is your chance to get out of here, Jess. And I don’t need any of that money. I’m doing just fine. It’s all yours – take it and get the hell out of this town.”

  “I’ve lost my lutz.” It was a partial lie, I was landing it about fifty percent of the time, but one that he might understand,

  Dylan stood and slammed his hand down on the paper. “So, get back to the Academy and find your damn flutz.”

  Over the years, Dylan had consistently screwed up all of my figure skating jump names on purpose. It must’ve been such an ingrained habit that he even did it when angry.

  “Dylan, it’s not your decision.” I dumped out the remainder of my coffee, grabbed my backpack, and headed out to the chip truck, my mind racing with the possibility of never having to sweat through another fish frying sauna day again. Maybe it was time to join Paige at Valerock. If I didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night to skate, I could get a job that paid good money.

  The oxygen pumped through my veins as I pedaled through town. Maybe skating had been a noose around my neck. Was I free? The wind whipped in my hair and
flapped my t-shirt against my skin - I certainly felt free.

  I didn’t have to worry about tuition anymore. The next big thing I had to worry about today was getting through a day of serving French fries, and then seeing my man with another woman on his arm.

  NAKED.

  That’s how I felt in the Valerock uniform. A skin-tight black dress with a scoop neck that plunged to the middle of my breastbone.

  “You look fabulous,” Paige smiled as I got into the car crammed with four other Valerockers.

  “Thanks.” I tugged at the neckline for the millionth time. “It’s a little big up top here.” The dresses were clearly designed for the DD-sized crowd – and glancing at the other servers in the car, they were all members of that club.

  “This is Avery,” Paige pointed to the driver who waved into the rear-view mirror. “And Maria and Sammi.” “Hi,” the two pretty blond girls chorused.

  “This is Jessie.”

  “The figure skater,” Avery said as she backed the car out of the driveway. “Paige has told us all about you. When are you going to come and work with us?”

  “Actually, I was hoping to talk to the manager about that tonight.” I was flying by the seat of my pants, but if I stayed in Laketown, raking in tips was a lot better than frying fish for minimum wage. Paige turned and raised her eyebrows at me. “My skating schedule has opened up a little bit.” Even though it was kind of true, the reality that I’d just decided to quit,—no not quit—pause, my skating career was just starting to sink in.

  “I think you’d be the perfect fit.” Avery gunned the Volkswagen and we headed through town.

  “For sure,” Sammi smiled.

  “You should probably wait to say that until after tonight.” A nervous laugh escaped. “I might spill a tray of drink on some socialite.”

  “Honey,” Avery shook her head. “Working at Valerock has nothing to do with your ability to carry plates back and forth to a kitchen.” Her eyes glanced in the rear-view and then looked me up and down. “You’ve got what it takes.”

  It felt dirty and I didn’t like it – but I also didn’t want to make minimum wage for the foreseeable future. I gulped down the feminist in me and took out my beeswax Chapstick.

  “Here.” Sammi rested her forearm on mine, stopping me from applying my lip balm, and handed me a tube of lipstick.

  “Thanks.” Looking over Avery’s shoulder into the review mirror, I applied the matte red color as evenly as I could, pausing until we passed one of the potholes I knew was coming up. So far, the little car’s wheels had bumped through every single one of them.

  The restaurant’s pontoon boat was waiting at the marina with ten other red-lipsticked Valerockers already on board. The boat ride took about twenty minutes and the sun was setting as we arrived at The Island Club. After a quick tour of the kitchen and dining room, we were ordered to light the tea lights on the white linen-covered tables. The volunteer committee members, all in designer couture and updos, flitted around holding clipboards and fussing with the floral arrangements.

  “You.” I turned in response and pointed at myself. “Yes, you.”

  It was Tiffany.

  I raised my hand in a half-wave like a nervous freshman but stopped when I realized that there was zero recognition in Tiffany’s eyes. “Grab that box of auction items and take it out to the patio.” Tiffany pointed her tanned arm at a box full of signed hockey jerseys. It was an order.

  “Ooookay,” I stammered. I wasn’t exactly shocked at Tiffany’s lack of manners, but I was surprised that she didn’t recognize me - unless it was an act - and in that case, Kane’s stepmom deserved an Oscar. I picked up the box of jerseys and stepped into the evening air. For the first time that year, a southern breeze brought warmth to the night. A distant campfire flickered on the shoreline and under the strands of white twinkle lights a row of banquet tables featured silent auction items ranging from rounds of golf at the Island Club Course, to fly fishing trips, to week-long stays at private cottages complete with celebrity chefs, personal trainers, and the hottest DJs - valued at over one hundred thousand dollars.

  Another Barbie volunteer barked an order at me. “Fold those nicely and put them in front of the right item number.” The Real Housewife of Laketown didn’t wait for me to respond and walked away. I closed my eyes and inhaled. It’s only one night I thought to myself. You can get through this.

  “Jessica?”

  The hair stood up on my arms. I finished folding the last shirt and turned to see Tiffany.

  “Hi.” I tried to give her a bright smile.

  “I didn’t recognize you at first.” She glanced over my shoulder, studying my folding job. “I didn’t think Valerock hired local girls.” She stepped beside me and surveyed the table.

  What was up with this bitch? My short nails cut into my palms as I squeezed my hands into fists. I wanted to tell her off, but I couldn’t lose my job on my first night, and more importantly, the evil woman was Kane’s mom, or rather, stepmom. Going for dinner with Tiffany Fitzgerald in the future would be a little awkward in the future if I told her to go fuck herself tonight.

  She patted the jersey and leaned into me, her voice barely a whisper, “We’ve taken an inventory, so we’ll know if anything goes missing.” Then just to be a total c-word, she picked up the jersey and dropped it onto the table in a heap. “Fold that better.”

  Frozen with shock, I watched my boyfriend’s stepmom walk away after accusing me of being a thief.

  “Jess.” Paige’s voice brought me back to reality, and I swiped at angry tears.

  “Yeah.” I wiped my hands on my dress and quickly folded the McManus jersey.

  “Team meeting in the kitchen.” Paige’s smiled faded from her face as she looked at me. “Are you okay?”

  I sucked in some air and blinked away the tears. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  I followed Paige through the glowing dining room, past the flute and guitar duo warming up in the corner and into the kitchen, wondering how I was going to make it through the night without pushing Tiffany into the lake.

  Avery gave the team a pep talk and then armed us with trays of champagne flutes filled with Dom Perignon.

  “The players are on their way,” she smiled and clapped. The servers cheered like they were at a rock concert. I held the tray with two hands, surprised at how heavy and precarious the whole thing felt.

  “One hand underneath,” Paige whispered through the side of her mouth.

  “And ladies,” Avery grinned. “Make an impression tonight, but under no circumstances can you go home with the players...” she paused dramatically. “tonight.” She winked. “Make an impression and save the fun stuff for later this summer.”

  There was an excited titter around us, but I was focused on balancing the tray. Paige was right; it was easier with one hand.

  “They’re here. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.” Avery led the train of excited women to the dock where the volunteers stood waving sparklers as the first of the line of antique boats approached. My heart hammered in my chest knowing that one of those twinkling lights across the bay belonged to Kane.

  Chapter 28 – Kane

  The Mastercraft was my boat. And if it was up to me, that’s what we would’ve taken to the gala, but Tiffany had left strict instructions that her family was to arrive in the Power Play. My dad didn’t trust anyone else to drive his baby, so the two of us stepped into her perfectly detailed interior and headed to the south end of the lake to pick up Bronwyn – my date.

  I still couldn’t believe that I had agreed to take another woman to the Gala, but Jessie seemed okay with it and it was making my dad happy. At the Yates island compound, Bronwyn stood on the dock, the warm wind billowing out a silky pink dress.

  Tiffany had made all of the arrangements and until this moment, Bronwyn and I had never communicated. My first impression? Yes, she was beautiful, in the traditional, I’m-a-model-and-don’t-eat-anything kind of way.

 
My dad idled the boat at the end of the dock, and I hopped out to help my date step into the Power Play.

  “Hi,” I smiled. “I’m Kane.”

  “I figured,” she smiled. “Wouldn’t it be quite a coincidence if some other handsome hockey star showed up at my dock at this very moment?”

  “Quite,” I laughed.

  “Bronwyn,” she said holding out her hand. I took it and she went in for a two-cheek kiss greeting. Tiffany and her friends always did the same to me, so I was used to it.

  “Shall we?” I gestured to the Power Play.

  “Nice chauffeur,” she laughed. “Or is he our chaperone?” she whispered and winked.

  I cursed under my breath. She obviously hadn’t gotten the message that this was a platonic favor.

  “Nice to see you, Bronwyn.” She and my dad exchanged the same kiss cheek greeting. She slipped out of her strappy heels and I helped her into the boat. The Power Play slipped gracefully across the starry night’s reflection in the calm water. Bronwyn edged closer to me and crossed her legs, the high slit in her dress parting to reveal her tanned thin thighs. I pretended not to notice and edged away slightly. As soon as we got to the gala, I would set things straight with her. My blood was boiling that Tiffany had put me in this position and as I kept my gaze on the shoreline, I wondered how well the model was going to take the news.

  The clubhouse windows were glowing, and we could hear the music from miles away. By the time we reached the dock, the slips were almost fully occupied with gleaming wooden boats with a few cigarette boats thrown in for good measure.

  The tuxedo-clad attendants caught the Power Play and tied her lines, while my dad and I hopped onto the dock. I turned to help Bronwyn out of the boat and let her hold my arm while she balanced, slipping each of her feet into her high heels.

  “You go ahead, dad,” I said. “I want to have a chat with Miss Yates.”

  My dad smiled and saluted. I laughed and shook my head. When did he turn into such a dork?

  “Bronwyn,” I turned to face her. The wind was whipping her hair and she shivered in the breeze. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”