Page 94 of The Alternate Captain
“I don’t even know where to start, Kelly. Dinner with my dad was a complete shit show and I don’t understand what’s going on with my sister and her ex. Maybe they’re screwing around—I don’t know, but I didn’t have time to think about it because I had this text message from Sarah... she said she was at my place, demanding that I talk with her, or she’d start knocking doors and—fuck.”
My jaw drops as I listen to Johnny, and I set my cello down before moving to my bed. “Oh my God. What happened? Did you talk to her?”
“Well, yeah, but only as much as telling her to fuck off and leave me alone. I told her I had nothing to say to her, and then the guy she cheated on me with, Charlie, turned up and had to drag her out of the building. It’s been a fucking nightmare, to say the least.”
The more he says, the faster he talks.
“I’m going to need another hug, babe,” he says.
And I crawl into my bed and snuggle up next to him.
“Your hair smells good,” he says, taking a deep breath.
“Thanks. I washed it.”
At least he laughs at that.
“I’m sorry to drop this all on you,” he says. “I can go?”
“No, no. It’s fine.”
“It’s shitty of me,” he says.
“Johnny—look at me,” I say, shifting myself so I’m under the blanket too. Face-to-face. “If you need to talk, I’ll listen. If you need to think, then that’s fine too. I’m here for whatever you need.”
His sorrowful eyes tug at my core. And even though it feels like we’re moving fast, the way he opened up last night showed a whole different side of him. Like I was meeting the real Johnny for the first time.
“You’re something else, you know that, right? And you’re so fucking beautiful. I’m sorry I was such a dick to you.”
My heart aches with how he’s looking at me right now. I want to ask him so many questions, but all I can do is stare.
“Stop saying sorry,” I say.
He leans in and presses his forehead to mine.
“You make me forget about all the crap when I’m with you. You make me feel something, Kelly. I mean, I thought I was dead inside.”
Fuck me. I was not expecting that.
“Why did you think that?”
“I guess I was told for so long by my dad that I needed to toughen up. I wanted to impress him, make him proud of me.” He’s silent for a moment, then he inhales deeply, turning his head away so he’s staring at the ceiling. “I had these extra practice sessions when I was a kid. My dad arranged them one-on-one with the assistant coach at the club I was in. My dad thought it would help to improve my game, and he was always on at me to get better. Train harder. Do more. But the coach was after a different one-on-one session to what I had in mind. And, well, I was lucky, I guess. Because I got out before anything got too heavy. It makes me sick thinking about it. I pissed off my dad, because the extra sessions stopped, and he said I was falling behind. Then some other boy on the team ratted the guy out. He was asked to leave before they made him leave, but it didn’t undo the damage already done. From that one experience, all those years ago, I shut myself down. Told myself that feeling something wasn’t an option, and I needed to push ahead and get things done.”
I cuddle right into Johnny, sharing my warmth with him.
He presses his lips to mine, and even though we’ve kissed before, it’s like I’m kissing him for the first time. His lips, surprisingly soft, lock on mine as he sets the palm of his right hand on my face. Rough skin. Rough fingertips, just like mine,from years of pressing hard onto strings and the demands of pizzicato.
We spent the rest of the evening snuggled up under my covers, talking about everything and anything. But the more I find out about Johnny, the more I understand. And the more I hate his dad.
I can’t even lookat Bettsy when he arrives for morning skate. The only thing I can think of is his sister coming on my fingers, that beautiful sound she makes as she comes running through my head.
He ambles into the room with his gear and then tosses his bag down before greeting the rest of the guys, completely oblivious to my antics. Then he looks right at me, and I swear to God he’s trying to read my mind.
“Danny and I are going to shoot some pool tonight if you fancy it, Cap?” he says, taking a seat.
I sigh in relief. But before I can reply, one of the equipment managers sticks his head around the door.
“Johnny, your dad is looking for you.”
