The next few days pass in a similar fashion. I show up at Jackâs after Iâve finished doing my house-sitting duties. He works out and I lie by the pool and try not to get caught staring at him.
I know that he sees me as Tyâs little sister, but in some ways that just makes me feel safer in my crush. Thereâs no way he would ever reciprocate so whatâs the harm in checking him out?
Jack finishes up his workout and walks over to where Iâm sitting on my lounge chair. He uncaps a bottle of water, takes a long drink nearly emptying the bottle, and then splashes the rest on me.
The cold water startles me as much as his playful behavior. One side of his mouth pulls up in a boyish grin.
âThat feels nice. It might be time to get in and cool off again.â
âIt is hot out today,â he says as he stares toward the pool.
âDo you ever get in?â I ask.
âItâs been a while,â he replies .
âI bet swimming would be good for your knee.â
âDid you get that from your pal Bridget?â
I never should have admitted that I talked with her about him.
âNo,â I reply. âItâs just common sense.â
âOh, you have that, huh?â
âAccording to my mother, no.â
His brows pull together. âI was kidding. Youâre smart. You know that you are.â
I roll my eyes but have to swallow the lump in my throat. Do I know that?
âDoes your mom really think that?â Jack asks.
Instead of answering, I get up and step quickly toward the pool, then jump and do a perfect cannon ball.
When I come up, heâs standing at the edge looking down at me. A cannon ball isnât the sexiest way to get into a pool, but I donât have to care what Jack thinks because he doesnât look at me like that.
âAre you coming in or what?â I use my hands to splash water up at him.
Undeterred, he moves to sit and then slides into the water. When he treads water in front of me, it feels intimate in a way I canât describe. Our legs and chests are close and silently we stare at each other with two feet of distance separating us. My heart rate picks up as I watch a water droplet slide down his temple to his jaw.
âI really want to dunk you right now,â I say. âBut Iâm afraid Iâll hurt you.â
His mouth pulls into a disbelieving smirk. âAs if you could hurt me, Little Sharpie.â
The nickname is like a bucket of ice water over my head. He never calls me that. Ash, Declan, Leo, and some of the other guys have been using that endearment for me since I was eighteen, but Jack never has. I canât explain why it hurts.
Itâs not that I think his reasoning for doing it now has any real significance, but it still catches me off guard. I guess itâs just a reminder that to him, and all the other guys, Iâll always just be Tylerâs little sister.
Jack dips his head back into the water and gets his hair wet. When he flings it back, the long strands hang in his eyes. He runs a hand through it to slick it back out of his face.
He misses one strand and I move forward, without thinking, to push it back.
He stiffens under my touch for a second before his cool mask slips back into place. âThanks.â
âYou should let me cut your hair,â I say.
He arches one brow.
âWhat? Iâm good at cutting hair.â
âUh huh. Iâll bet.â
âI am. I used toâ ââ
My words are cut off when he moves into my space and pushes my head under the surface of the pool.
My mouth is still open, and I take in a big gulp of water. Iâm coughing so I canât yell at him, but I retaliate by moving forward to attack him back. But heâs ready for me. His hands wrap around my wrists to keep me from getting to him.
âI canât believe you dunked me,â I say as I squirm and work to free my hands from his tight grip.
Heâs strong and Iâm no match for him. We wrestle and splash. Iâm squealing and laughing, and heâs got one of his rare smiles splashed across his face.
Our legs bump under the water and I go still, afraid Iâm going to bump his bad knee. He doesnât seem nearly as concerned about his own well-being as he continues holding me hostage. Heâs basically all thatâs keeping me from drowning since Iâm no longer treading water.
âYouâre going to regret that, old man.â
âOld man?â He barks out a laugh.
âIâm taking it easy on you.â
âPlease donât,â he says. The playfulness in his expression morphs and before my eyes he turns back into the serious, stoic guy Iâm used to. His dark blue eyes swirl with some undecipherable emotion. His grip loosens and because Iâm not kicking my legs, I start to sink.
He grabs a hold of me again, this time his hands go to my rib cage just under the band of my suit top. His long fingers slide around me and his palms flatten. My self-preservation has kicked back in and our legs tangle again as I tread water.
The top of my thigh wedges between his legs and rubs against his crotch. It happens so fast. A slight brush against his dick. His hard dick. I think? Iâm not usually confused by this kind of thing, but the contact is there and then gone so quickly that Iâm not certain. Maybe heâs just really big.
My face flames hot, but curiosity gets the better of me. Mom always said it was the reason I got into so much trouble. Curiosity didnât kill the cat, but it was the reason she barely passed high school, or something like that.
His hands still hold me up and I reach forward to grab on to his shoulders. My breasts brush against his chest and I fit into the spot between his legs, once again making contact with his crotch.
I inhale sharply when I confirm my suspicion. His dick is hard.
He reads it on my face, my surprise, but he doesnât back away or play like heâs embarrassed. So I do the only thing I can think of. I dunk him under the water.
The next day, I show up at Jackâs at the same time. He works out on the patio and I lie by the pool. He has a laptop set up on an outdoor coffee table and every once in a while, he scowls at the screen.
I canât seem to find the usual Zen of the sunshine today so I get up and walk over to him. Heâs lying on a mat on his side, a band around his thighs. He lifts the top leg and then lowers. When I plop down in a chair next to his laptop, he glances over as if just seeing me.
Only after he finishes the exercise does he ask, âNeed something?â
âNo. Just bored.â
A notification sounds on his laptop. He glares at it.
âYikes. Whatâd it do to you?â
âNothing,â he grumbles. âMy email is out of control.â
It dings again and Iâm a little worried heâs going to toss it into the pool.
âIt canât be that bad.â
âBad enough that James is threatening to come back early if I donât start replying to some.â
âDoesnât someone do that for you?â
âJames responds to the things he can, but Iâve always handled my own schedule. I donât want someone signing me up for events or making those calls for me.â
I fight a smile. Of course he doesnât want to relinquish control. He is always the boss of everything. I like that about him, even if it is one of the reasons we butt heads so often. Jack has built an amazing career and heâs hands-on with every detail. Not only that but while juggling a career and businesses on the side, he still manages to be someone his teammates, friends, and family can depend on to always be there. Itâs impressive.
âWhat?â he asks, obviously reading something on my expression despite me trying to hide my amusement.
âNothing.â I peek at the screen as another notification comes in. His email is up and my eyes widen when I see there are over nine hundred unread emails. Okay, so it can be that bad.
âAre you serious?â
He nods. âUnfortunately.â
I take the laptop and set it on the top of my legs. I realize only after the fact that this could be a huge invasion of privacy, but Iâm already scanning the subject lines. Requests for interviews, invitations to parties, clubs, and one even has the word âBallâ in it. Heâs being invited to a freaking masquerade ball, and the most exciting thing on my summer calendar is a night out at our favorite club with some friends from school. How different our lives are.
âHow long have you been avoiding your inbox?â I glance up at him over the top of the screen.
His jaw flexes instead of him answering. Since his accident if I had to guess.
He takes the laptop from me.
âIâll get to them,â he says. Then quieter, âEventually.â
Like clockwork, another notification comes in. I stand and move around to confirm itâs another email.
âCongratulations. You hit one thousand,â I say.
This oneâs from James and itâs marked Urgent. I smirk at the subject line. If you donât answer them, I will.
I like James and I especially like that Jack, who currently has a resigned look on his face, listens to him. He doesnât let anyone boss him around, but James isnât anyone.
âLike I donât have other shit to do.â He sighs.
I sit next to him and watch as he opens the first email, replies âNoâ and then deletes the original message.
âOh, dear god. This is painful.â
âThey want an RSVP and Iâm giving them one,â he says brusquely.
âThat sounded like a nice event and itâs rude to reply with one word. You didnât even thank them.â
âRight now, I donât feel very thankful.â
I study him carefully. Jack is one of the biggest names in all of hockey. People throw his name around with the greats. But itâs not just about hockey. He transcends the sport. He has endorsements and is friends with people all throughout the entertainment industry. Heâs dated models and actresses who regularly show up on the covers of magazines.
Ty said once he didnât know how Jack did it. That if it was him, heâd go out of his mind trying to juggle it all and still give hockey his everything. I didnât understand it then, but Iâm starting to now.
Heâs a big fucking deal and the downside is that the pressure never stops. Heâs getting it from literally all sides. The Jack I saw last week who wanted to hide away and be left alone, I understand him a little better now.
âI got this.â I take his computer from him.
âIâm not letting you anywhere near my schedule. Youâd have me at more events than even James wants.â
âI wonât touch your precious schedule without your agreement. Iâll read the details to you and you give me an answer,â I say. Then add, âIâll reply however you want but with more appreciation than youâre currently capable of.
â
He still doesnât look convinced for some reason.
âYou can read them before I hit send.â
With some reluctance, he agrees, and I settle into a chair, legs crossed with the computer resting in my lap.
âDo you have a schedule somewhere I can check dates against?â
He leans over the laptop. The movement puts his face so close to mine. I study the hard lines of his jaw, his straight nose, and the bow of his lips. He really is handsome. Iâm still staring when his gaze flicks to mine. âThere.â
My stare doesnât move from his face. âThanks.â
With more self-control than I seem to possess, he looks away. Thank god I have a date tomorrow night. If the best way to get over an ex is to get under someone new, then it canât be that much of a stretch to assume the best way to stop fantasizing about my brotherâs teammate is to sleep with a guy I met online.
For the next hour, I go through Jackâs inbox. He declines all interviews, says no to every bar/restaurant/new business grand opening. The only thing he doesnât fight me on is scheduling another visit to the childrenâs hospital. He likes kids. Who would have guessed?
âWhat about the masquerade ball?â I ask for the second time. The first time I asked, he quickly said no, but I decided to wait and try again.
âPass.â
âCome on,â I whine. âWho passes on a ball. Women will be dressed all sexy with masks, there will be lots of food and boozeâ¦â
I can see Iâm not convincing him.
âJames must think itâs a good idea if he sent it over.â
âJames thinks I should go to everything.â
âNot true. On one of the emails he forwarded he said if you were looking for something that night, heâd find something better.â
One side of his mouth quirks up.
âPretend youâre James and Iâll be you.â
His brows lift in amusement and possibly annoyance.
âYo, James, I got this invite to a ball. Balls are dumb. I donât want to go.â I stop and wait for him to play along.
âI donât sound like that. When have you ever heard me say âyoâ?â
âJust go with it.â I motion with my hand to encourage him. âWhat would James say to try to convince you.â
His chest rises and falls with a heavy sigh. âHeâd say that itâs a good opportunity to talk with the people at Nike again. He wants to lock them into a contract before I retire.â
The last part lands like a hammer, sucking the air from my lungs. âYouâre going to retire?â
I have absolutely no ability to hold in my reaction. I canât picture Jack not playing hockey, not being the Wildcats captain. What would he do? God, what would the team do without him?
âNo, but I canât play forever. If the accident taught me anything, itâs that Iâm not invincible and Iâm not getting any younger.â
âYou are kind of old.â I scrunch up my nose. The truth is heâs just gotten better looking the longer Iâve known him. It really isnât fair that men get hotter with age and meanwhile my friends are already performing a morning and nighttime skin and body routine to delay aging.
âI turn thirty-three next month. If Iâm lucky, I have another seven or eight years.â
Heâs planning almost a decade in advance, and I can barely manage to work out what I want to do on a daily basis. The age difference between us has never felt bigger .
âSeems like you should go to the ball then.â
âWhat is it with you and this ball?â Heâs stretching on the ground in front of me. One hand rests protectively over his left knee. Heâs been getting around better on it, but every once in a while, I see him rubbing his thigh or extending it like heâs testing the feel of it.
âI donât know. It sounds fun.â
âFine, Iâll go.â
I start to smile at his agreement, but then he adds, âIf you come with me.â
âMe?â I shake my head to say absolutely not but then stop myself. I mean, when else am I going to ever be invited to an event like this?
âDeal.â
His smirk remains. I will deal with the repercussions of my agreement later. Iâm pretty sure Iâll have to buy a gown and a mask andâ¦later. I will deal with it all later.
âJames will be so happy,â I say, then send the RSVP for Jack plus date (OMG, date?! Another thing I push off until later to deal with).
âStaying for dinner?â he asks when I close the laptop. I did not manage to get through all his unread emails, but I made a dent.
âNo, I need to run some errands tonight.â
He cocks a brow.
âI have a date tomorrow and I need something new to wear.â Plus, I have a waxing appointment.
He nods his head slowly.
âWhoâs the guy?â he asks, going back to working out.
âAnother online hopeful. His name is Thor. That has to be a good sign, right?â
âSounds made-up. Are you sure heâs real and not some psycho catfishing and preying on young women?
â
âHeâs real.â
âHow can you be so sure?â
I bite on the corner of my lip before admitting, âI looked him up on social media.â
âThat could be fake too.â
âOh no, I went deep. I found his parents and his sister. There was even a yearbook photo of him. Thor is short for Thorson. Also, I can handle myself.â
I stand to leave but then find I donât really want to go. Iâve gotten used to spending time with him. And while heâs still not super chatty or warm, I enjoy his company.
âAre you going to work out all night?â
âMaybe,â he says.
âDonât forget, rest is just as important for recovery.â I beam at him.
âAnother tidbit from Bridget?â he guesses.
âYou know it. Sheâs the best.â
He grunts his acknowledgment.
âSpeaking of nurses and the like, I havenât seen anyone around lately.â
âI was cleared to drive so I can go to the office to meet with my doctor now.â
âWhat about physical therapy? Is Brian still coming to the house?â
He hesitates for just long enough to make me suspicious when he says, âNo. Iâm doing PT on my own now.â
âWhat happened to Brian?â
âI asked him not to come back.â
âYou ran off another person? Why?â
âHe was hitting on you. I didnât like it. It was unprofessional.â
Okay, yes, but firing him seems extreme .
âAnd you can do everything you need on your own?â I ask.
âIâm a big boy, Ev.â
âYou didnât answer the question.â
âI wouldnât put my recovery in jeopardy like that. Not anymore. I need to be back on the ice and I need to be stronger than ever.â The conviction in his tone sends a chill down my spine.
I can feel the determination radiating off him. He would do anything for the better of the team, and the best thing for the team is him being back in top form.
âBrian is the best, right?â
âNot happening.â
âWhat if I donât come over when heâs here? He canât hit on anyone if youâre alone.â
âNo way. Iâm not shoving you out the door for him.â
âIt wouldnât be like that.â
âUh-uh.â He digs in hard with his conviction.
âYou want to be back stronger than ever and heâs the best. It seems like a no-brainer to me.â I stand to leave.
âAre you coming back tomorrow?â
âAre you going to call Brian?â
His jaw flexes. âIâll see if he can come in the mornings.â
âPerfect. Itâs usually lunchtime before I make it over anyway.â
It doesnât escape my notice that just over a week ago he was yelling at me for trespassing on his property and acting like he didnât want me around. Now, heâs moving his schedule around for me. I donât know what to make of it. But I think I like it.
âThen I guess Iâll see you tomorrow.â I point to his laptop. âDonât touch your inbox. I will deal with the rest of the emails tomorrow.â