Page 30

November

Jordan

I wake up rested, the pain having subsided after Alice brought me my medication. The room is still shrouded in darkness, and I reach for my phone that’s face down on the nightstand.

I have a lot of missed calls and texts from work, and I quickly type out a message that I’m feeling better and that I’ll be able to be in attendance at tonight’s game.

Alice stirs next to me and when I turn my head, I find her watching me with a soft expression.

I’m still worried that she’s only here because she feels bad for me.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, giving me a small smile, her bangs falling in her eyes. I reach out without thinking and brush the dark blond strands away, my fingertips lingering on her forehead, my thumb brushing back and forth on her cheek.

Alice’s eyes fall closed, and she gives me a content sigh. I fight the urge to kiss her and pull my hand back, pulling the blanket off me.

“Much better. Thank you,” I swallow hard, pushing myself off the bed and trying to stretch. There’s some lingering pain, but not enough to incapacitate me the rest of the day.

“Shouldn’t you rest more?” she asks, sitting up in my bed, looking adorably rumpled.

I shake my head, twisting my body in another stretch. “I have a game to coach tonight.”

“Are you still in pain?”

The concern in her face stops me in my tracks and pulls at my heartstrings. “I’m always in pain, but this is a manageable level.” Her face falls and her eyes shine with tears. Fuck.

“J, I’m so sorry,” she says, a tear falling down her cheek and landing on the comforter. I swallow hard and reach out a hand. When she takes it, I pull her to the edge of the bed and give her a hug.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” I say, trying to put her at ease.

“I just wish you’d told me sooner. I wish I could help more,” Alice says helplessly, hugging me harder.

“There’s one thing you can help me with …” I trail off, not sure if it’s the best idea to have her this close, but she wants me to let her in, to let her help me, so I have to try.

“Anything,” she says, pulling back and wiping her face.

“I need help with my stretches,” I say, blushing at the request. I almost expect her to laugh it off, but she takes the task very seriously, jumping off the bed.

“Do you have a yoga mat?” she asks, looking around the room, peeking in my closet, like she might find some hidden equipment there.

I smile. There’s the Alice I know. “No. I just lay on the floor usually.”

She whips back around to stare at me. “Are you crazy? You need to use a mat. It will help with your joints, not to mention it’s more comfortable.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Okay, miss expert . I’ll get one.”

“Let’s go to my place, I have one there,” she says, grabbing my hand and dragging me with her across the hall.

“How did you get into my place, again?” I ask, trying to remember if she’s mentioned it already.

Alice unlocks her door and we enter her much brighter apartment, and—wow.

This is the first time I’m seeing it since she moved in, and it’s so overwhelmingly her .

The furniture is mostly white, from the coffee table to the TV stand to the bookshelves along the living room wall.

There are plants and flowers everywhere, some real, some not, and a giant plush chair by the window, getting plenty of natural light.

“I mentioned it earlier, I used the spare key I have for emergencies,” she says, peeking at my face for a reaction. I don’t let her see how glad I am that she even cared enough to use it.

“Good to know,” I say, looking around the place more. The apartment is a mirror of my own, with the same style of kitchen counter and modern appliances.

“You have one too, by the way,” she says, and my attention returns to her as she’s tucking her hair behind both ears.

“A spare key?”

“Yeah,” she says, biting her lip. “A spare key to mine. It’s in your junk drawer.”

“Oh, I thought it was a spare for my own.”

“Nope,” she laughs. “You know Ash and Eli, they practically lived at each other’s places even when they weren’t together.”

“Did they tell you they got the house?” I ask, following her into her bedroom. The decor reminds me of her old apartment she had in college. I glance at her bed and the pink bows on her sheets, and remember that first time she kissed me. I was such a fool to turn her down.

“Yes, I’m so excited. Robbie is going to lose his mind when he finds out they’re moving in across the street,” she says in a muffled voice, entering her closet and digging around for the yoga mat.

“It’ll be great,” I say, looking around the room more, stepping closer to the full-length mirror on the wall that’s directly across from the bed. I wonder if she ever watches it as she’s touching herself.

I groan and scrub my hands down my face. What is wrong with me? She held my hand in bed for a day and now I’m a fucking horndog for her. This is what I get for not getting laid in years.

“Okay, found it,” she says, coming back out with a rolled up purple mat. “Let’s set up in the living room.”

Alice

Jordan barely fits on the mat, and I bite back a smile. I make a mental note to order him a proper mat that he can use for stretching—one that won’t have his long legs dangling so far off it.

“What kind of stretches do you usually do?” I ask, putting my hair up and pinning it with a claw clip.

Jordan looks up at me from where he’s lying on his back and gestures for me to get down too. I kneel next to him and wait for instructions, but he just stares at me. After a beat, he says, “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Why?” I frown.

“It’s just—you’ll have to touch me,” he says, cheeks turning pink as he looks down at my hands, which are gripping his thigh. Huh, when did that happen?

“Well, good thing you don’t have cooties.” I snort and he cracks a smile.

“Okay, let’s start with some hamstring stretches then,” he says. “You’ll have to push my leg and keep it straight at first. Then push it while my knee is bent, so I can stretch the glutes too.”

I giggle at the word glutes, and he rolls his eyes at me. “Okay, I think I got it,” I say, moving to kneel in front of him, taking hold of his left leg first and holding it straight, bending it towards him.

Jordan grimaces but doesn’t make a sound and I quickly stop. “What’s wrong?”

“Just … go slower,” he says, breathing through his nose.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“S’fine, I’m just a baby when it comes to pain.” Jordan smiles, but it doesn’t ease the tightness in my chest. I hate seeing him in pain. No matter how strained our relationship is, I would never wish him harm.

I run one of my hands up to grab his ankle, the other one landing on his muscular thigh.

Even though he hasn’t played hockey in close to a year, he’s still got the strong legs of a professional player.

Gently, I start to push, leaning my body into the movement.

When I think I’ve gone far enough, I stop.

“More,” Jordan says in a ragged voice, and I suck in a breath.

This is way too intimate of a position, but I can’t back out now.

He inhales and exhales deeply through the burn, lifting his arms up over his head.

The movement makes his T-shirt ride up and I’m met with a familiar glimpse of his brown skin and the curly black hair that trails down to his athletic pants.

I blink and avert my gaze, finding a spot on the carpet next to his head to stare at instead. Jordan’s eyes catch mine for a brief second and I pray he didn’t see me looking. After about a minute, I switch over to his other leg, doing the same exercise.

His sexy grunting does something to me, because all I can think about is drawing out these sounds from him in a much more compromising position. I’m relieved when he sits up to do some other hip stretches, and I leave him alone while I make us coffee.

I’m in my head when he comes to the kitchen, a soft look on his face. I hand him my favorite mug that says “smut reader” on it and smirk as he flushes at the sight of it.

“Thank you for the coffee and for all the help today,” he says, taking a sip and leaning forward on the kitchen island.

“Anytime,” I say, taking a sip of my own.

“How is your book going, by the way?” he asks, and I groan.

“Who told you about that?”

Jordan frowns at me but says, “Everyone is talking about it. You know that, right?”

My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I’ve been pretty excited to publish my first book, but I didn’t expect anyone would actually care that much about it. My family has always seen my reading as a hobby rather than a large part of my life. I figured the same would go with my writing.

“Are they?” I ask shyly.

“We’re all so proud of you for going after your dreams,” he says, brown eyes boring into mine with so much love and sincerity.

“Thanks,” I say, breaking the contact. “The book is going well, for the most part. I just need a cover. And maybe more time, since teaching is taking a lot of it at the moment.”

“Can I read it?” he asks, and my head snaps up to his.

“No!” I say, louder than I mean to. I would die of embarrassment if he read my book. “I mean, not yet. And since when do you read romance?” I recover, looking at him skeptically.

Jordan shrugs, giving me a small smile. “I’ve read a few.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, finishing the last of his coffee and rinsing the mug.

I want to ask him more. Which ones did he read? How did he pick them? Were they smutty? My cheeks burn but before I can ask any of my asinine questions, he says, “I should head out if I want to get to work on time.”

I nod and walk him to the door. “Take it easy, yeah?”

“I will, and—” He stops himself, looking down at his feet and fidgeting, cracking his knuckles.

I get the feeling asking for help is still not something he’s comfortable with, so I give him a break and say, “Hey, Jordan? If you need a stretching partner, let me know.”

His eyes find mine and he gives me another devastating smile, his shoulders relaxing. “I would love that.”