Page 22 of Game Changer (Wynn Hockey #5)

Jax

It’s our last night here in California.

We’re in bed together, with those goddamn pillows between us. Quiet darkness settles over us.

“Jax?”

I turn at Molly’s whisper. My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and I can just make out her face on the pillow. She’s lying on her side, facing me. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for bringing me here. It’s been an amazing trip.”

“It has.” I didn’t think it was a good idea, but I have to admit I’ve had fun with Molly.

I’ve spent time with my family and time alone with her, and time with her and my family.

Grandpa loves her, and so does everyone else, apparently, since Molly, Everly, Taylor and Lacey have all connected on social media like best buddies.

“I’m so glad I had this time to process things after the wedding. You’ve been so kind to me.”

I roll to my side, pull my arm from beneath the duvet and reach over to close my fingers around hers where they rest on her pillow. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You have, and you know it. I just want you to know I appreciate it. I feel like…” She pauses. “Like we’re better friends now. Right?”

Friends.

I really like Molly. I do consider her a friend.

But over the past week, getting to know her better, spending time in close proximity with her, I have many distinctly unfriendlike ideas about her.

Fantasies. Even dreams about her. I want to do dirty things with her, things I definitely wouldn’t do with a friend.

Her fingers move under mine, turning so we’re holding hands.

Heat sweeps through my body, straight to my dick.

I push a pillow down so there’s nothing between our faces and we’re looking at each other in the shadows.

There’s not much distance between us. I want to taste her mouth. Lick inside. Devour her.

My heart thuds erratically against my ribs, so hard I think she can hear it.

“Yeah,” I finally rasp out. “Friends.”

She swallows. Moments accumulate, hot and heavy and brimming with emotion. Her lips part. My mouth is ravenous for her. My body vibrates with repressed need.

“Jax…”

“Mmmm.”

Her lips curve up at the corners into the sweetest smile. “Thank you again.”

My head moves on my pillow in acknowledgement. Words pile up in my brain but I don’t know which ones to say. I don’t know anything right now. “It was my pleasure, Molly. Really.” After another moment of silence, I say, “My dad didn’t cheat on my mom.”

I hear her suck in a breath. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. I asked him about it.”

I’d told her that we had a nice trip to Catalina and a good talk, but not the details.

I haven’t really figured out how I feel about it or what to do about it, since my entire belief system about love and marriage has been based on this illusion.

But now, here in the darkness, in bed, it feels safe to tell her. I want to tell her.

“How do you feel about that?” she asks quietly.

“I’m still not sure.” I tell her about why I believed that all these years and what Dad said.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her fingers tightening on mine. “I’m sorry you’ve missed out on the kind of relationship with your dad that you should have had.”

“Yeah.” An invisible fist squeezes my throat. “I’m sorry too. It was my fault, though.”

“Not entirely. He could have sat down with you and asked you what was going on.”

“He wasn’t around much.”

“Well, that’s on him, too. You were a kid.”

My heart expands at how she’s trying to make me feel better. “I guess we’re both responsible.”

“The good thing is, you’ve straightened it out now, and you can build a relationship with him.”

“Yeah. He’s going to try to come to Chicago or maybe even to the lake while I’m there so we can hang out more.”

“That’s so great. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I probably wouldn’t have done that if it weren’t for you.”

Our eyes meet and hold again. Unspoken words flow between us, a thrumming cord of connection and understanding.

“I don’t want to go home tomorrow,” she blurts out.

I kind of feel that way, too. “I know. But we have to.”

“I’m dreading the rest of the summer, back in my apartment, doing nothing. That wasn’t how my summer was supposed to be.” Her voice trembles and I feel the emotion radiating off her.

My heart contracts sharply. If I was staying in Chicago, I could make sure she’s okay. Maybe go out to the odd trivia night. But I’m leaving again in a couple of days. How can I make it better? “Come with me to Canada.”

The air goes very still around us and Molly is motionless too, staring at me.

Did I really just say that?

After a drawn-out moment, she says, “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Why am I pushing this? I tried to discourage her from coming with me to California, now I’m inviting her to come to Canada.

“Because…I already imposed on you and your family once. I can’t do it again.”

“You’re not imposing at all.” I smile. “My family freakin’ loves you. And I just told you I had fun too. We’ll have fun in the boreal forest.”

Her forehead furrows. “Forest? For real? I’m kind of a city girl.”

I chuckle. “I’m kidding. There’s lots of forest if we want to go hiking, but my grandparents’ cottage has all the amenities.”

She falls silent again, seemingly contemplating this.

“It’ll just be me at the cottage, mostly,” I continue. “My grandparents and my mom are coming for a few days later in July. Maybe my dad. So you’re not imposing.” I pause. “You can even have your own bedroom.”

“Oh, well then, why didn’t you say that?” She laughs softly. “Really, Jax?”

“Yes, really. You don’t have to stay the whole summer, like I am. I mean, I’ll be back in Chicago mid-August to start skating and working out. But you could come back whenever you want.”

“I suppose. School doesn’t start again until after Labor Day.” She blinks a few times. “I know I have to talk to Steve, but he won’t be back until July 5, I think.”

“You can fly back to Chicago after that, if you want.”

“I know I have to deal with things.”

“Yeah.”

Her smile deepens. “Okay. I’ll come with you.” Then her eyes close, her long eyelashes sweeping her cheeks, and her mouth relaxes. I watch her face for a long time in the dark, as her breathing grows deeper, until I fall asleep, too.

Holding her hand.

In the morning, I awaken to find Molly snuggled up against me and my arm over her hip. For a few seconds, I enjoy it, reveling in the feel of a soft, warm woman against me, her silky hair so close to me, her scent in my nose. Then reality bites me in the ass.

Jesus! Did I do this?

She wakes up too. Slowly. Then her eyes fly open and she jerks back.

Our eyes meet.

The room is still dark, the curtains drawn over the window and sliding door.

My body goes electric, heat burning over my skin. “God. I’m sorry, Molly.” I release her and shift myself away.

“It’s okay.” She blinks, pushing back too.

The pillows are amassed at the foot of the bed. “I don’t know how that happened. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says again. “I don’t feel violated.”

Her attempt at humor lightens the air in the room. A little. My morning wood is throbbing and it’s all I can do to stop myself from reaching for her and rolling her under me.

“Good,” I manage to say. “Me either.”

She chuckles. “We were asleep. It was just…”

Okay, I don’t know if it was me or her who shoved the pillows out of the way. I don’t know if she rolled into me, or I pulled her over. What I do know is, I wanted that, and somehow in my sleep it happened and it was probably my fault.

“Yeah.” I roll out of bed, keeping my back to her, because the stiffy in my boxers is enormous. “It just happened. I’m gonna jump in the shower.”

And whack one out.

It feels so damn good, leaning against the tiled wall, water streaming down on me, my hand gripping my cock and tugging rapidly until the pressure builds and builds, and my groan as I come is lost in the spray of water.

I stay like that in the cloud of steam for a moment, catching my breath, my thighs quivering.

When I played in Philly, one of the players was screwing around with another player’s wife for months.

Everyone else knew about it but him. Until they day he found out.

The two of them got in an actual fight during practice.

They both ended up in trouble, and it affected the atmosphere in the room for months.

We lost game after game, and I still think that was part of it.

Things only got better when they traded Baxter away.

I don’t want to cause something like that in Chicago. I can’t cause something like that. I don’t even have a contract signed yet, for Chrissake. There’s no way I can even think about touching Molly.

Okay, it’s not like anything actually happened. We were just snuggled up together. Two people wanting…connection.

Bullshit. But I’ll keep telling myself that.

“You’re sure he’s away?”

“Yeah.” She frowns. “That’s what Grace said.”

“I don’t want to come in there and run into him.”

We’re at Chucky’s place so Molly can pick up some things, including her car and apartment keys. We just flew in, and it’s late Tuesday.

“You can wait here if you want,” she says. “I’ll go up and get stuff.”

I’m tempted, but I should at least help her. If I run into Chucky, well, we’ll deal with it. “No, that’s okay. I’ll come up.”

We leave my vehicle in the loading zone out front and she uses her code to access the elevator then his condo. I’ve been here before, many times, but it’s weird walking into a teammate’s home with him not there.

Molly’s chin is set determinedly as she moves around gathering things up.

She finds a big suitcase and fills it with clothes, toiletries from the bathroom, and a few framed pictures of her and her friends sitting on a shelf in the living room.

She leaves the pictures of her and Chucky.

Then she picks up a trophy and buries it among the clothes.

“What’s that?” I ask.