Page 30 of Boarded Hearts

Wow, the evening has gone from light-hearted to me basically unloading my parental neurosis and worries over my son onto this man. Yet, I can’t stop talking; it pours out of me like a river breaking its banks. “So yeah, other than that, I’d say he’s doing okay.”

I lift my gaze to find Jon’s unreadable stare, and if I didn’t know better, I swear I see a glossy glint in his eyes. Still, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to fill the void with meaningless chatter. Instead, he slowly takes my hand in his, lifting it to his lips as he lightly brushes a kiss over my knuckles. A jolt of electricity shoots straight down my spine to my toes. This man’s touch is dangerous, enticing me to take leave of my senses. Before, I could counter my feelings with the belief that he was a shallow playboy, a star on the ice, and a good time between the sheets. But with every hour spent in his presence, layers are peeling away, revealing a man who both excites and terrifies my delicate and battered heart.

JON

Felicity Thompson is well and truly under my skin, her presence as permanent as a tattoo.

As she bares her concerns over her son, I hear the emotion in her voice, and it does something to my chest. I want to soothe her anxiety, ease her upset, and take it all away. I open my mouth to comfort her, but words are cheap. I need to show her I care. I want to know more about her, about her past and her family, but I don’t want to push her too far. It’s clear my girl doesn’t trust easily, and the reasons behind why she doesn’t send an uncomfortable bristling sensation through me. Who hurt her? And where are they now? “When did Elliott head back to the UK with Darcy?” I ask cautiously.

“Just before the hockey season started. Unlike Jack, she couldn’t wait to get back home. She missed her boyfriend, Liam. But I miss her terribly. It’s hard, you know. Building a new life, trying to plant roots without those you love near you.”

I want to tell her that she can plant roots with me, that she doesn’t need to feel lonely, but I hold back. When it comes to us, she’s on a completely different trajectory. I’m way out in front, ready to jump in with two feet, and if she gave me the green light, I’d gather her up in my arms, march her toward my bedroom, and lay her down on my bed, not resurfacing for days. But she’s eons behind, and I know I need to gain her trust before I can even consider her heart. But I can’t help wondering why she’s so guarded when it comes to men. Is this exclusive to me and my reputation as a womanizer or due to another man hurting her? My fists ball at the thought of the latter.

“Why did you and Elliott split?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

She lets out a low chuckle. “How long have you got?”

For you? A lifetime.

I don’t say anything, just continue to draw patterns on her thighs as I’ve been doing the last half hour, like a lovesick puppy.

“We met when we were young but grew apart. I had Jack at twenty-one, and I guess getting married was the obvious choice.” Her brows furrow, pain etched across her face. “I suppose he loved me in his own way.”

Suppose he loved her. Yeah, that’s not sitting well with me. I can’t help my growing frustration; she isn’t the type of woman you take for granted and something tells me this asshole, Elliott, did exactly that.

“It just didn’t work out, and I guess I lost myself along the way.” Her shoulders straighten along the back of the stool as she lifts her chin. “But I want to find myself again. My children are growing up and finding their own way, so now I want something for myself. I want to work on my career, make friends, and spread my wings. Even at thirty-nine, it can’t be too late.”

With so much packed into her words, my head spins, trying to process the meaning. I hear she wants to find independence, but how would a new man fit into her future? How would I fit into her future?

“You’re thirty-nine?” It’s hardly an old age; she’s still young. But I had her pinned at only one or two years older than me.

She sighs. “Yep, I turn forty next July.”

I take a seat on the stool next to her and rest my chin on my palm, fixing her with a playful grin. “So does this make you my sugar mommy?”

She balks. “Sugar mommy? No, Jon, it makes you cheeky.”

“Cheeky, hmmm. I can work with that.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

“Don’t push it, Morgan. You’ve done so well feeding me amazing food and thoughtful drinks. Our friendship has gotten off to a strong start.”

After today and the kisses we shared, I’d say we’re way past friends.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JON

I’m in a bad mood, and I have been for days.

I could lie to myself and pretend our back-to-back home losses are to blame, but this isn’t my first rodeo. Form on the ice comes and goes, and despite Coach ringing us out in practice earlier, my mood reflects an issue closer to home.

It’s clear Felicity is determined to position me firmly in the friend zone. She said it herself on Monday night—she wants to “spread her wings.” I spent all six periods over the last two home games unable to keep my eyes from her and Jack. She threw me the occasional smile, but after I dropped her back at her place, I know she’s pulling away. The kisses we shared in her office and then at my place were indescribable. I’ve kissed many women in my lifetime, but none have ever made me feel the way I do with her. It feels so easy and natural with Felicity, yet she seems determined to deny what I know she feels, too, and it’s frustrating the shit out of me.

“Morgan, my office, now.” Coach Burrows’s harsh tone ricochets across the locker room, interrupting my thoughts. I stand from the bench and throw on some sweats and a hoodie, ready to face his wrath.

“What did you do now, Jon?” Jensen drawls in a teasing tone, but I’m in no mood for joking around.

“Just worry about your own game,” I bite, grabbing my bag and storming out of the locker room toward Coach’s office.

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