Page 11 of Game Changer (Wynn Hockey #5)

Jax

I find my way back to the resort with the help of my GPS. Spotlights illuminate the palm trees around the grounds, white lights twined around their trunks. I park and we walk into the lobby. The bar on our right is open and lively. “Let’s have a drink,” I say, jerking my head toward it.

“Okay.”

There’s a huge fireplace at one end and the bar is open to a terrace. We find a table near the fire and a waitress approaches right away with a smile.

Molly studies a cocktail menu. “I’ll have a watermelon margarita, please.” She smiles back at the waitress.

“Of course. And for you, sir?”

“Have you got Gran Patrón Anejo?”

“We certainly do.”

“Great, thanks.” I turn back to Molly. “I couldn’t drink enough at the party since I had to drive back here. And I needed to drink.”

She smiles and rests her chin on one hand. “Your family is interesting.”

“Interesting? I assume that’s a euphemism for fucked up?”

She laughs. “They’re not that bad. I feel so sorry for Chelsea, though.”

I snort. “Yeah, you said that earlier.”

“Well, now seeing her with your grandpa…and it’s only going to get worse.” Her eyes shadow. “Can you imagine? The person you love most in the world, your partner in life…deteriorating like that right before your eyes, and there’s nothing you can do?” Her voice catches. “It must be so hard for her.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “You’re right. I noticed that everyone seems a lot warmer toward her than they used to. I guess I have some catching up to do.”

“You will. Everly’s going to make you.” Her eyes glint.

“I see you have Everly figured out already.” I smile.

“She’s kind of scary.”

“Yeah, I was always scared of her when we were kids.”

“Get out.”

I laugh. “Sort of. But part of that was probably the feud between Dad and Chelsea and Grandpa. Everly always knew we didn’t trust her mom, and that made things awkward.”

Our drinks arrive, and I relax back into the comfy chair with my tequila and let out a sigh. “I hate it that Grandpa’s not doing well. And I’ve missed so much time with him.”

“I’m sorry.” Molly’s voice is soft. “It must be hard.”

I nod but don’t say anything. She’s…pretty great. She’s just been through a hell of an ordeal herself, and she’s sitting here all sympathetic for me and my family.

“I’m sorry I caused some trouble by showing up with you.” She picks up her drink. “I never even thought that they would know about the wedding, but I guess I should have. I’m sure it’s all over social media.”

“Probably. Also, probably good to not know that. Don’t look.”

“I don’t think there’s any way I can stop myself.” She grins crookedly. “I’ll try.”

“You were going to marry a hockey player. You know you can’t look at all the shit they write about us. And about the WAGs. Especially about the WAGs.” I’ve seen some cruel shit online.

“True.”

“Especially someone as soft-hearted as you.”

“Soft-hearted?” Her eyes widen. “Me?”

I laugh. “Yeah, you. You cry at any TV commercial with a dog in it.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah, you do. It’s not an insult. But…”

“What?” She eyes me with eyes as big as hockey pucks.

“It’s easier to get hurt when your heart is all squashy.”

She snorts. “Squashy-hearted. Got it.” Then she lets out a short puff of air. “I may have been squashy-hearted in the past, but no more. I’m never going to let a man fool me or take advantage of me again.”

I don’t believe in love and marriage either, but it makes me a little sad hearing her say that.

She’s always so happy and vibrant, and I hate to think that Chucky’s bullshit has turned her off men and relationships.

Because she’s made for love and commitment and probably a family. I, on the other hand, am not.

I take a gulp of tequila, which slides warmly down my esophagus.

“So, what’s up tomorrow?” Molly changes the subject.

“I’m going to go to Grandpa and Chelsea’s place. I want to find out what’s happening medically. How he’s managing.”

“Checking up on Chelsea?”

“Well, yeah.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you have to worry. She’s pretty attentive to him. I think she cares. And…I think this is really hard on her.”

“You decided that in a few hours?”

She tosses her hair back. “You know I’m always right about stuff.”

One corner of my mouth lifts. That is true. “Well, I guess I’ll see.”

“What about your dad?”

“Eh.” I gaze into my amber drink. “I’ll see him at some point.”

When she says nothing, I look up at her. She’s regarding me with her head tilted, lips pursed. “What’s that about?”

“What?”

“You and your dad.” Then she nibbles her bottom lip. “Sorry. Not my business, I guess.”

“My dad and I have never been close. He and my mom split up when I was fifteen. He left Winnipeg and took a job in Hershey, Pennsylvania. My mom and my sister Riley and I stayed. We didn’t see much of him after that.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

I hitch one shoulder. “Not a big deal. Lots of couples divorce these days.”

“Then why do you seem like you hate him?”

“I don’t hate him.”

“Okay. Sure.” She eyes me and clearly recognizes this isn’t something I’m eager to talk about. Turning her head to survey the lounge, she says, “This resort is way nicer than I expected.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good. We should go for a walk, explore the grounds.”

“Okay.”

So after we finish our drinks, we do that. The night air is fresh and calm, carrying the scent of the ocean. The rustle of palm fronds above us is the only sound as we stroll a dark path past bungalows, around a wing of the hotel, and into one of the pool areas.

“Oh my gosh, this is amazing!” Molly gawks at the luxurious pool with cabanas and loungers. The pool glows turquoise in the dark, the water still. “I can’t wait to get down here tomorrow!”

“That’s your plan, huh?”

“Hell yeah.”

I chuckle.

“I’ll need to buy some sunscreen,” she adds.

“Pretty sure they’ll have that in that shop in the lobby.”

We keep walking. The dark sky is streaked with pale blue clouds. We follow a path to the edge of the bluff and gaze out over the navy ocean. The muted rumble of waves onto the shore carries on the ocean breeze.

Molly lets out a soft sigh.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yes. Suddenly I’m exhausted.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot. Want to head back to the room?”

“Yeah.”

Great. The room we’re sharing. That’s not going to be awkward at all.

Now I’m tense.

We’ve circled back to the front entrance of the hotel and enter the lobby, cross to the elevators and ride up to the fourth floor. The air in the elevator is thick. I try not to look at Molly, and I get the feeling she’s doing the same.

In the room, I flick on a light.

Molly walks over to the dresser and pulls out some clothing, pajamas, I guess. She looks directly at me. “I’ll sleep on the lounge,” she says.

I eye it doubtfully. “I don’t think it’s going to be long enough.”

“I’ll make it work. I just need one of the pillows. Since there are about ten on that bed, you should be okay.”

My lips twitch. “Yeah, I guess I can spare one.”

“I noticed an extra blanket in the closet.”

I don’t feel right about this, but I know it’s ridiculous for me to offer to sleep there. “We could share the bed.” Holy shit. Did those words just come out of my mouth? “I mean, not…it’s a big bed. We can, ah, put pillows down the middle.”

She frowns and scrutinizes the bed. “Well, let me see how the lounge works. If it’s terrible, we can try that.”

She disappears into the bathroom.

Sighing, I find the blanket and spread it out on the chaise, then settle a pillow against the back of it. Then I pull back the fluffy duvet on the bed, on the side away from the chaise longue. I sit on the bed and plug my phone in. Guess I should have packed some pajamas.

I scroll through news and social media until Molly reappears. Aw, fuck me. She’s wearing a long T-shirt that shouldn’t be sexy, but totally is. It’s gray cotton, short-sleeved, the hem almost down to her knees, but she looks hot.

“I know this is weird,” she says, not looking at me, stuffing her clothes into her suitcase. “Let’s just try to ignore each other.”

Bahaha. Yeah, right.

I stand. “Okay if I use the bathroom now?”

“Of course.”

I wash up but keep my clothes on. When I return to the room, the lights are out except the small lamp beside the bed.

Molly is a blanket-wrapped ball on the chaise.

I sit on the bed to take off my clothes, leaving them on the floor, then slide into bed.

With my light off too, the room is black as ink.

And quiet. I can’t even hear her breathing.

I close my eyes and try to relax. It’s impossible not to be aware of Molly, even though I can’t see her or hear her.

I replay the day’s events. The flight. Molly’s nerves. Her warmth and compassion with my family. And with me.

And my nutso family, reminding why I was leery of making this trip. But I needed to be here and needed to see how things were with Grandpa. And honestly, I won’t regret spending more time with him while he’s still with us.

I hear a rustling noise and a soft sigh from across the room.

Damn. Now I’m thinking of Molly again.

This was a crazy idea, bringing her here, but I have to admit she held her own with my family, and having her with me sort of made things better. Other than when Grandpa accused me of stealing my teammate’s fiancée. But I’ll forgive him because, Jesus, he’s losing his mind.

Heaviness settles in my gut. Life is not fucking fair. But if anything good can come of it, it’s that Dad and Uncle Matt are making things up with Grandpa.

“Are you okay?”

The whispered question reached my ears across the room. I turn my head toward it. “Yeah. Why?”

“You made a noise. I thought you were in pain.”

I made a noise? Damn. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Night.”

“G’night.” I roll onto my stomach and wrestle my pillow into the right shape beneath me.

Quiet again.

Damn. I’m trying really hard not to think dirty thoughts.

Because it’s Molly . My friend. My teammate’s fiancée.

Ex-fiancée. But the only times I’ve shared a hotel room with a woman were for hot, filthy sex.

Maybe it’s a conditioned response, that being in a dark hotel room make me think about sex.

And since Molly’s the woman here, I’m thinking about it with her.

I know I shouldn’t. Should. Not. Go. There.

But my mind is taking over and I’m imagining Molly slipping into bed with me. Naked. Snuggling up behind me, her arm coming over my side, her hand finding my stomach…sliding lower…fingers curling around my hard-on.

Yeah, my dick is giving her a full salute.

Maybe I can wait till she’s asleep and rub one out. Fast and quiet.

My own hand pushes my boxers down and grips my engorged dick. Slowly, I tug. I swallow and grit my teeth as pleasure pours through me and I’m desperate for more.

I listen intently. I hear soft breathing. Is it deep and regular enough that she’s asleep? I’m not sure. I don’t want to embarrass her, but Christ, I’m hot and hard and I can’t stop myself from jerking my cock.

I close my eyes and swallow, jaw tense. My hand moves, sharp sensations prickling over my skin. My muscles tense as I stroke myself, harder, faster. Pressure builds in my balls, which are pulled up torturously tight at the base of my cock. I cup them with my other hand.

The tingling at the base of my spine moves deeper inside.

My throat burns with the effort to keep my ragged breath quiet.

Sensation builds, fiery and dark. My hand moves faster.

Molly’s so close…so sweet and sexy and nearly naked…

Jesus. I can’t stop now, and please, please let her be asleep, I can’t stop …

and ecstasy erupts in my balls, fire racing up my spine and down the backs of my thighs.

I shudder through the climax, teeth gritted as I swallow my groan, body tense.

I need to gasp for air, but I can’t. I slowly pull air in through my nose and let it out, over and over, my heart hammering. Eventually my heart and breathing slow. My hand is a sticky mess. Shit.

I rearrange my boxers and wait a few more minutes, hoping like hell Molly’s sound asleep. Then I slip out of bed and quietly pad to the bathroom to clean up.

I study my face in the mirror—the high color on my cheekbones, the glitter in my eyes.

Damn. That felt incredible. But my poor, hopeful dick is still half hard, still wishing to be inside a warm, wet woman. An image of Molly naked beneath me flashes in front of my eyes…smooth, creamy skin, bright red-gold hair on the pillow…

Jesus, I’m an animal. Can’t I even share a hotel room with a platonic friend without getting all these depraved fantasies about her? What is wrong with me? I’m going to need every bit of self-control I can muster up to get through the next few days until we can move her into a room of her own.