Page 27 of Playing for Keeps (Seattle Hawks Ice Hockey #4)
Jay
Fargo, North Dakota
Ten years ago
Seeing Grandpa Ray puts a permanent smile on my face that I haven’t felt in so long; happiness. And it’s not that it’s been a nightmare staying with the Jones family, it’s all the shit in between with getting away from my mom to finally reach North Dakota.
My uncle Ricky is just as happy to see me when I get off the bus and plonk my duffel bag down.
It’s amazing what fits into those things, my entire life as it would seem.
Crazy to think that my life this far can fit into one bag that I’ve just carted across god knows how many cities to get here. All for the love of the game.
My grandpa may not be my biological family, neither is uncle Ricky, but they’re the closest I have to any kind of real family and have made me feel more at home with them even just standing here on the dirt road while the bus pulls away.
Ray married my grandmother, Lani, my mom’s mom. It was the second marriage for both of them. My mom had already left home when they got together and was carving out her own life with the wrong crowd.
I also have a real Uncle who lives here, Leo, mom’s brother. We haven’t kept in contact much over the years, but we throw a text to each other every now and again. He’s alright. He certainly turned out better than my mom did.
“How are you, kid?” Grandpa sticks out a large, weathered hand and gives me the handshake of my life, assessing my features with a quick sweep over. “You look like you need a good hot meal.”
I laugh a little nervously as I shake it and he pulls me into a bear hug. The man is a burly dude who retired from working in a security company years ago. It’s safe to say he’s seen and done it all.
He was devastated when my gran died five years ago and has never had another woman in his life since.
“I’m alright,” I say as he holds onto me for dear life, it’s almost impossible to get out of his hold.
It forms a wedge in my throat as my mom has never truly hugged me or given me anything close to resembling love.
Then it’s Uncle Ricky’s turn, and he gives me a good thump on the back for good measure, inclusive of the strong bear hold hug he has on me.
There’s not many times in my life I know I’ve been fucking safe, only with Tanner’s family, and with Grandpa Ray.
And this is one of them I’ll always remember.
I know I don’t need to worry about who’s coming and going while I’m asleep.
If Gus is going to pick another fight with me, or if Mom is going to be drunk or bring some other guy home when Gus isn’t there.
I’m so fucking relieved that it doesn’t have to be my life anymore. I can start fresh here and do what I always wanted to do; play hockey.
“Don’t you worry now, my boy, we’ll get everything sorted out in no time.” Grandpa Ray tips my chin up with his hand. “You don’t have to worry anymore, okay?”
I swallow hard, the sound of it audible to all of us. And tears, fucking more traitorous tears that I usually reserve for private time, threaten to break right here and now at the bus stop.
“Thanks,” I garble out, trying to disguise it all with a cough into my palm, my best attempt at clearing my throat proves futile.
Uncle Ricky looks down at me with sympathy.
He’s built the same as my grandpa, tall, broad, short red hair and matching beard.
Eyes that could tell a thousand tales in the depths of them.
But Ricky has had a good life with a father like Ray.
He’s made it his mission to keep him on the straight and narrow. And now, he’s extending that to me.
As much as I love San Diego, and the Jones family, and all my friends there. I know this is where I need to be right now.
Those words ring through my mind over and over. And they may be simple, but they’re like the much needed music I needed to hear; ‘You don’t have to worry anymore, okay?’
Present day
It’s game night tonight, and I’m hoping Beth and Jade will make it.
It’s her last night before she heads home, and I’m feeling a few mixed emotions about that concept.
I’ve enjoyed her being here, but knowing it’s going to be weeks until I’m in Las Vegas for the wedding seems an awfully long time away.
As I’m suiting up ready to go on the ice, I try to clear my mind by taking some full, rhythmic breaths. Taylor has been instrumental in helping all the guys with tips on clearing our heads before the games with visualization techniques and breathing exercises.
I was a skeptic at first, but as I’ve looked more into it, I’m learning that some of the top athletes in the world use this kind of stuff combined with meditation, and I’m not opposed to it.
The only trouble is, every time I close my eyelids and draw a deep inhale into my chest, all I see are a pair of oceanic blue eyes, stretching to the depths of the sea before me.
Soft blonde hair. That heart shaped mouth, soft, luminous skin and a delicate dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Jade .
I fling them open again and scrub a hand down my face.
It’s like I’ve taken a Jade Jones love potion and now I can’t seem to get enough.
We’ve been having way too much fun while she’s been in tow, even when I’ve been away here and there for games.
On the first week we texted back and forth with the dancing lessons idea she had.
Sure it was short notice, but I figured what the hell.
Then breakfast the other morning before we went ice skating.
Okay, Janice may have been a serious impediment on reinforcing any credibility to my nature, but I think I got away with it.
Then there was the first dancing lesson and us laughing so hard my sides hurt.
Me fucking around and trying to put a smile on her face with my stupid moves, over exaggerated and with too much energy, but not caring as I whirled her around and around.
We definitely delved deep when we went to the Japanese place right after and we both confessed quite a few surprising things.
I couldn’t believe it when she told me about her ex.
It certainly has seemed to have taken the wind out of her sails a little, the shift is subtle, and I may have not seen her in years prior to now, but it’s just something I can tell. It did something to her.
Quite rightly. And it’s not something you can just forget or brush over.
Years ago, when I had a girlfriend, Sara, I suspected she was seeing other guys. Our relationship was serious and I’d been in the NHL for a year.We were head over heels for each other, or so I thought.
She came to every game and was there for every after party.
She was fun, and I thought we were happy together.
The signs could’ve been there, but I saw a future with her.
Maybe it was because she was the first proper girlfriend I’d ever had, the rest had just been casual hookups, but I thought we had something special.
Turns out, she just wanted to be with a hockey star, and at the time, I was just a rookie and wasn’t big enough for her.
Sara didn’t really care about me, she was just working her way to the top and using whoever she could to find herself a super star.
She even admitted to wanting to be kept in a certain lavish lifestyle.
And while she never confessed to cheating, I heard rumours after we split.
Since the breakup, I haven’t been able to trust any other women.
I treat them well, show them a good time, but then I’m out.
I rarely go back for seconds. And that’s how it’s been for so long now that I don’t really know anything else.
I have never given myself the opportunity to even consider that I could trust someone romantically again, or if they weren’t just after my money.
Sara was pretty good at spending it, even back then.
There’s no way I could imagine Jade ever doing something like that.
She doesn’t have an agenda, hell, she wouldn’t even care what I did for a living.
The conversation is easy with her, and I know I can trust her with whatever comes.
And it’s fucking refreshing when you don’t know if a woman just wants you for your money and your NHL status, or if she likes you for you.
It sure is one of the pitfalls of being paid millions of dollars and having a high-profile celebrity-style status. It comes with the territory. Funny, with Jade, I’d never have to wonder…
“Hey, man, are you okay?” Ulrich gives me a nudge with his shoulder on the way past, all six foot seven of him, a mountain of muscle and steel. But he’s really a gentle giant, off the ice, anyway.
“I’m fine,” reply. “Just psyching myself up for the game.”
“Not you too,” he chuckles.
“I’ve been hanging around Swifty too long.
” I shrug haphazardly and follow him out of the locker room.
Swifty is what I’ve been calling Taylor since he got back with Emmerson.
Not just because it all happened fast with them, but it’s also a Taylor Swift thing.
Em loves to retell their engagement story and what was playing on the radio when they left the rink with a rock on her hand.
So now I poke fun at him any chance I get, which is often.
Home game tonight means a wild crowd and I’m here for their hunger as we take to the ice.
It’s a feeling like no other and I’m as pumped as can be. I think my half-second slow breath thing actually did something because I’ve finally gotten Jade’s pretty face out of my head, and now all I’m seeing is my opponent. And that’s the headspace I need to be in.
It’s part way through the first period against the Dallas Tornados that I notice the row of seats behind the players’ bench. Dallas just scored and I’m skating to the center ice for the faceoff with Dallas center player, Deacon Elliot.