Page 14 of Game Changer (Wynn Hockey #5)

Jax

Spending more time with Grandpa and Chelsea today was good and bad, which fucked me right up.

I want to make up for lost time. But I feel guilty because I want to run away and hide, because it’s so fucking sad.

I also feel guilty because Chelsea is the one shouldering this burden and she didn’t make a single complaint about it.

She did say Dad and Uncle Matt are more involved now, and her kids are supportive, so that’s good, but…

leaving their place, my head was a spinning circle of guilt and grief and pride and love.

Then I arrived at the pool to see Molly flirting with that guy, while standing there nearly naked in a tiny little bikini, displaying lots of smooth skin and curves, and I kind of overreacted.

She has every right to flirt with whoever she wants, I guess, but it disturbed me, and then we had an argument which has never happened before and I didn’t like it.

Luckily, Molly is a rock star and talked me down and isn’t holding a grudge against me for being an idiot.

After a big margarita on the rocks and a few chips and guacamole, not to mention Molly’s smiles and easy conversation, I’m a lot more relaxed than I was an hour ago. This place is fun and casual, and so is Molly. I’ve always liked that about her. Somehow, she always makes me smile.

Except I’m seeing now that she’s more than just fun and casual, which sounds shallow. There’s a lot more to her than that—caring, compassionate, understanding. And brokenhearted.

I have to keep reminding myself that she just broke up with my teammate. After last night’s Lone Rangering, I have to stop thinking about her like that. Seriously.

I can do it. I may like women and sex, but I know enough to keep my hands off a friend who was someone else’s fiancée a few days ago.

We continue to chat as we eat. My fajitas arrive sizzling at the table, smelling amazing, and I dive into them. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was. Maybe I was hangry earlier. That would also explain my annoyance with Justin at the pool.

“Is Christmas your favorite holiday?” she asks.

“Why do you ask that?”

“The way you were talking about playing hockey with your family at Christmas in the past.”

“Oh. Well. Christmas is different now. The whole family doesn’t get together anymore, especially the last few years. And I try to make sure I spend time with my mom and my grandma and grandpa on her side.”

“And the break at Christmas is short. That must make it hard, too.”

“True. But yeah, I like Christmas. Memories, you know?”

“I know.”

“How about you? Is Christmas a big family time?”

“Thanksgiving more so, I guess. I don’t have much family. My brother’s married and has two kids and I love them to bits, but outside of that we don’t have much extended family. I love Christmas though. I love giving presents, and I love snow and twinkling lights.”

“I love snow too. Lots of people think that’s nuts.”

“Well, it can be a pain in the ass, but it can also be beautiful. Actually, it’s kind of magical…that nature can form so many incredibly tiny crystals and pile them up and they’re perfectly white and sparkly.”

I tip my head and smile at her description. She’s right. It is kind of magical. “Yeah.”

“You’d miss snow if you lived here, Canuck boy.”

I laugh. “I definitely would.”

It’s dusk as we leave the restaurant. Back at the resort, we agree to another walk around the grounds.

“Tomorrow I’ll check out the beach,” Molly says. “I found the path to get there.”

“I’ll come with you.” I pause. “If that’s okay.”

She glances sideways at me. “Sure, it’s okay. You don’t have other plans tomorrow?”

“Not until evening.”

She nods. “What about your dad?”

My teeth clench involuntarily. “What about him?”

“You are going to see him again, aren’t you?”

“Sure, yeah. At some point.”

“How about tomorrow? Give him a call and see if he wants to do lunch.”

“Why are you pushing me to see my dad?”

“I’m not!” She pauses. “Okay, I am. I just think it would be good for you.”

“Good for me?” Annoyance fizzes in my gut. “What does that mean?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Finally she says, “I should stay out of it.”

“Good idea.”

My words came out harsher than I intended, and I sense her hurt. We walk in silence for a moment, then in a low voice I say, “Sorry. Again.”

“Sorry for what?” Her tone is light.

“I was rude.”

“No, I was. It’s not my business what’s between you and your father.”

It’s true. Molly and I are friends, but not like best buds. It really isn’t her business. So why do I want to know why she said it would be good for me to see my dad? I really don’t care about him that much.

“I came here to fix things with Grandpa,” I say stiffly. “Not my dad.”

Silence expands between us.

“Jax. You just said it might be too late for you and your grandpa. Why wait to fix things with your dad? What if something happens to him?”

Christ. She’s right. As always.

This wasn’t part of my plan in coming here. My relationship with Dad is what it is. I had no intention of trying to make things up with him too. But… “I’ll call him tomorrow,” I say gruffly.

She just nods and we keep walking.

“Do you play golf?” I ask.

“Um. I have. I’m not very good at it.”

“We could golf one day. There’s a nine-hole course here.”

“I guess we could. But Jax, you don’t have to entertain me, really.”

I’m afraid to open my mouth in case what I say comes out sounding wrong again. I know I don’t have to entertain her.

“And don’t use me to procrastinate on dealing with your family,” she adds.

My head jerks back. “I’m not doing that!”

She purses her lips. “Are you sure?”

Maybe I am. But admitting to that makes it sound like I don’t want to be with her.

Goddammit, this conversation is full of land mines waiting for me to step on.

I rub my face. “Look. I admit hanging out with my family isn’t my favorite thing to do.

I’d rather hang out with you, and that’s not using you.

I’ll spend time with my family, but I also want to have a little fun on this trip. Okay?”

“Okay. Except I’m not supposed to be here.”

“But you are, so let’s make the most of it.”

We go into the lobby lounge for a drink. A bunch of convention people are in there, and we run into the group we talked to earlier at the pool. They invite us to sit with them. Molly and I exchange a “why not” look, and I pull chairs up to their table.

Once again, I’m the center of attention, but, with amusement, I watch Molly run interference for me.

It’s like she’s protecting my right to privacy.

It’s kind of sweet. I don’t mind talking to fans, as long as it’s not all about me, and it seems she knows that.

She distracts Justin by talking about trivia.

“No, no,” she says to Justin. “It wasn’t Mrs. O’Leary’s cow who started the fire.”

“Yes, it was.”

Molly shakes her head. “No, that’s a myth. Nobody knows exactly what started the fire.”

“ Everyone knows what started the fire,” Justin argues. “The cow that kicked over a lamp.”

“I’m from Chicago,” she says. “I should know.”

I hold up a hand and shake my head at Justin. “Don’t argue with her. She’s always right.”

She shoots me an exasperated but amused glance. “Yes. I am.”

The others laugh, because she’s so damn cute.

Eventually we call it a night and go back up to the room. And once again, I’m faced with the predicament of sharing a room with Molly.

“Do you want to take the bed tonight?” I ask, because this morning she commented that she was stiff and sore as she stretched and worked kinks out of her back with boner inducing moves. “We can take turns sleeping on the chaise.”

“There’s no way you can sleep on that. Let’s do what you suggested…share the bed. We can make a wall of pillows down the middle.”

I swallow a sigh. “Okay.”

It doesn’t matter. So she’ll be a little closer. I still can’t touch her. Or think about her. Or think about touching her.

No playing five-on-one tonight though, since she’ll be right in the same bed. But that’s okay. I don’t need that. I’m fine.

We take turns using the bathroom again and I’m trying to disregard the intimacy and closeness of the hotel room.

It’s hard to ignore the aroma she leaves in the bathroom, though…

that fresh and totally addicting grapefruit and flowers scent.

It’s hard to ignore her dressed in that night shirt, her face freshly washed and dusted with golden freckles.

It’s hard to ignore the way she bites her lip as she studies her phone.

What’s she reading? More about Steve on their honeymoon?

I catch the flick of her eyelashes as she glances my way once, then again. I’m bare-chested as I kneel on the bed and stuff pillows beneath the duvet. Her glance flicks to my thighs.

I’m not the only one trying to pretend indifference at sharing a room.

We settle beneath the duvet. Molly turns out the lamp on her side of the bed, sinking the room into velvety darkness.

The fan of the air conditioner is the only sound.

My body is alert, my senses hyperactive.

I focus on slow breaths. My obstinate dick is half hard again, goddammit.

In the dark, I’m picturing Molly down by the pool, that turquoise bikini plumping up her sweet tits and sitting low on her hips, her long legs bare. Christ.

Maybe one more night after this. The convention ends Wednesday and hopefully another room will open up.

But can Molly afford it? This resort is, like, five hundred bucks a night. That’s pretty steep for a schoolteacher. But I don’t know her financial situation.

Shit.

I close my eyes with resolve. There is no sweet, soft woman in bed with me. I’m alone. I need to sleep.

Then Molly lets out a soft little snuffling noise and a sigh, rolls over, tugging the duvet, and I’m back on alert.