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SEVEN
ETHAN
I leanagainst the bar and sip an Old Fashioned while keeping an eye on Aurora. I remind myself she’s only in my life for one night. I have no right to be protective of her.
She responds to Jackson’s barely veiled anger with nervousness and fear, and a nagging unease comes over me.
LA’s hockey icon isn’t the golden boy everyone believes.
The blonde beside me eyes me curiously, traces my gaze, and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “What the fuck is that asshole doing now?”
“Trying to figure that out myself. You know them?”
“You could say that.” Her tone is sticky-sweet, and she appraises me as if I’m a piece of meat.Puck bunny.
“I’m guessing they used to date?” I take another swig of my drink, feigning nonchalance.
“Yup, and the manipulative man-child doesn’t tolerate rejection.”
A guy next to her bumps his shoulder into hers. “Hey, no talking about my captain. Those are the rules.”
He’s on the team, but without making it obvious, I’m unsure who. I do, however, make a mental note of everything said.
“The rules don’t apply when my roommate is involved.”
“Your roommate is going to fuck up our season.”
She scoffs.“Not my roommate’s fault your captain can’t stay sober. Have fun carrying him out of here tonight.”
From a coaching perspective, there’s a wealth of information to process regarding Jackson. It’s not unusual for a player to struggle with substance use. I’ve seen it among my own teammates and players.
Still, Jackson’s behavior is immature and unacceptable, bordering on abusive.
I was dead wrong to think Aurora was unworthy of his attention. He’s the one who’s undeserving of her.
And why doesn’t anyone stop him? Has his conduct been swept under the rug because of his performance on the ice?
That’s about to end.
Aurora tosses me an anxious, apologetic look. I’ve noticed she does that—sends glances my way to gauge my mood or seek approval. It makes sense if she’s been dealing with an asshole with a drinking problem. Explains why she remains quiet when I’m not actively engaging with her. Why invite trouble? Her life has been unpredictable.
She’s also naturally submissive—precisely my type.
Mr. Blackwood.Jesus, my dick twitched when she said that.
I leave my unfinished drink on the bar. With dinner concluded and plates being cleared to prepare for tonight’s entertainment, people are milling about in the aisles. It makes it easy to blend in while eavesdropping on Jackson and Aurora’s conversation.
“I meant it when I gave you the penthouse,” he says. “You could come home. I’ll pay for whatever you need.”
Home. They lived together.
“I moved out after you didn’t return my calls or texts for two weeks. My grandmother was in the hospital. You have no idea what I went through.”
“I’m fucking sorry. I’d take it all back if I could, you know that.”
His despair is painful to listen to. I nearly empathize with him.
“But youcan’t, and you haven’t changed. Now please, Jax, leave me alone.”