“How is our star player holding up?” she asks smoothly, stepping under the umbrella’s shade but not taking a seat.
“Chomping at the bit to get out there on the ice and play,” I say, not sure how much of Jake’s bedrest he really wants people to know. I should have realized that everyone on the team knows everyone else’s business.
She chuckles. “I can only imagine. Darnell is not looking forward to having to step into Jake’s shoes, should it come to that.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Everyone knows this is my husband’s last season. So what he wants is a healthy team captain who can take us to a Stanley Cup. Think you can help with that?”
She’s asking with a smile, but I can see the depth of urgency in her eyes. I realize then that Jake’s recovery is far more than just being about Jake. It’s also about every single player and their family, too.
I sit up even straighter, my eyes finding Jake and narrowing at him. He may think our little tryst means he’ll get off the hook with me being on his shoulder every single hour of the day monitoring it, but I’ve just decided that will not be the case. There’s too much riding on him recovering. Jake may have five years left in him before retirement—maybe more, for all I know. But some of his teammates do not.
I look up at Tanya. “Yes. I can. And I will. Thank you for coming over. Jake’s got to refocus, and you just reminded me that it’s not only Coach’s job to make that happen. It’s mine too.”
Tanya looks surprised at my ferocity but she smiles again, ever the lady, and moves on to her other guests.
I’m sweating now, despite the lemonade, as my adrenaline is pumping. I look for Kenz and see her on the covered porch under the fans, giggling and laughing into her phone. I try not to roll my eyes at her. She’s obviously talking to one of her dating app guys.
I walk over to her, intent on insisting that we not go out with Jake afterwards. When I reach her, she just holds up a finger and laughs again. “Of course I’m not going to bail on you tonight. I said we’d meet up after eight, right? Well. Then that’s what we’re going to do,” she purrs into the phone.
She looks at me and puts the phone on mute. “You wouldn’t mind awfully much not coming tonight after all, would you? This guy seems nice and I don’t want Jake ruining it. Can’t you just go out with him alone?”
I stare at her. Talk about running hot and cold—one minute I’m in trouble for even touching a hockey player as part of my job and the next she’s telling me to go out without her with her own brother.
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll take your brother home, tuck him into bed, and see that he rests all night just like he’s supposed to.”
Kenz looks at me and shrugs, turning back to her phone. But at eight o’clock sharp, when we’re all walking to the car, Kenz surprises Jake by hopping into an Uber and zooming away. He looks at me.
I turn to him and put my hands on my hips, ready for resistance to my words. “You are coming home with me.”
A smirk turns his lips up then. “Alone and unchaperoned? What will people think?”
I smirk right back. “What’s the harm in that? There’s nothing to know, anyway, right?”
Needless to say, the ride home is silent except for the music Jake puts on and turns up. That’s fine by me. I will save my redo of Tanya’s words I plan to lecture him with for when we get to his place.
He pulls up to one of his garages and we both get out. Jake starts to go down into his media room, but I stop him.
“We need to talk.”
My words hang in the air as I look at his back before he turns to face me.
“Okay.” He looks stoic, like he could not care less if he tried.
“There are a lot of people depending on you, Jake. And I don’t mean your family or the little twats you sleep with from the dating apps,” I add the last part to separate myself from the rest of the women he’s had in his life. “Your team needs you to recover.”
He looks bored, which irritates me. “I’m doing everything I’m told to do… which is a whole lot of nothing. What else do you want from me, Allie?”
“I want you to fight this.” I tap the side of my head. “I want you to realize that every day is important in your recovery. I feel like you’re just, I don’t know, checked out.”
He raises a hand to run it through his blonde hair and winces, then curses. “Fuck this!” He looks at me. “Sorry. Not you. It’s not you or doc or Coach or anyone I’m mad at. I just can’t live like this.”
He looks like he wants to punch something. His frustration is so real, I can feel it in my very bones. I see it now. I see why he keeps shutting down and acting like the injury is no big deal. It’s because it is such a big deal and he can’t face it all the time. So he checks out mentally and emotionally.
I reach out and take his hand, leading him down the hallway to his bedroom. He follows without a word.
“I’m not going to stand by and let you fall into self-pity,” I say, giving his left hand that I have clenched in mine a little yank. “We are getting you into that jetted tub and we are going to take advantage of every second of every day until game day. You will recover if it’s the last damn thing I do!”
I hear him chuckle as we cross the threshold into his bedroom. I whirl around to face him as he closes the door. He’s pulling off his shirt, but he stops, looking at me.
“Don’t laugh. This is serious.”