Playing To Win Page 5

  “I get it.” She stands and her hands slide to her hips, to the pockets and fall to the side. Her gaze slides around the large room.

  The awkwardness between us is new. Kate Carter is in front of me and for the first time, uncertainty swirls. What in the hell do I say to her to give me a chance? Is there anything besides physical chemistry between us to make the risk worth it?

  “I ordered dinner from Cazador’s. Should be here in thirty minutes or so. And some wine. I didn’t know if you’d want anything.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” She grins, but it’s shaky. She still hasn’t sat down. Every passing moment that passes between us widens and thickens the awkwardness between us.

  I squirm in my seat and then screw it. We’ll be fine in a few minutes. Katie’s always someone who takes a minute or twenty to loosen up around others.

  “Come on.” I groan and grab my crutches. Katie’s quick to help but I take her hand in mine as she tries to steady my crutch. “I didn’t want you over here to be my therapist, Katie. I got this.”

  “Right.” She pulls her hand back, but I still have mine on hers, and hers is cold probably from the chill outside. I curl my hand tighter around her and squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

  I lay it all out, not giving a crap. And when she blushes, I let her hand go and scoot around the small space between the coffee table and couch, heading for the kitchen.

  “Need anything to drink before dinner gets here? I have water and well, more water, or milk.”

  She laughs behind me and I can feel her smile light up the room, thawing the tension, even if I don’t look back to her. “I don’t think milk and guacamole will go really well together, Jude.”

  7

  Katie

  I’m in Jude Taylor’s apartment, even if it’s a temporary home. I figure the team set it up for him for his short stay here but it’s still so much nicer, in some high-rise building overlooking the lake and more modern and updated than anything I could ever hope to afford. The walls are bare and the furnishings from what I can see are minimal, but the space is still massive and open and the windows at the far wall show the gleaming lights of the city streets below and then the vast blackness of the lake.

  I’m here with Jude.

  And I have no idea what to say to him. Somehow, he’s capable of melting the strangeness with a smile and a joke about milk. Me? I’m so far out of my comfot zone I no longer see the bottom. Taking this risk is jumping without a parachute. Lake diving without checking the depth of the water first. Terrifying. This is worse than when we first met in college.

  I almost backed out tonight. Countless times I pulled out my phone with the intent to do that.

  Seeing Jude isn’t smart. Not professionally. Not emotionally.

  Worse, I haven’t figured out what I want from this night together. Which is probably why I’m shifting from foot to foot, looking like a timid kitten.

  He hands me my water bottle and my hand shakes as I take it from him. When he touched me earlier, shivers had done happy little dances up my arms that are still there.

  If he wasn’t so damn beautiful, so incredibly good-looking and maybe even better after all these years, putting him in my rearview would be so much easier. Or if he wasn’t so damn earnest when he tells me how he missed me.

  “This is strange,” I mutter, unscrewing the cap. “And I don’t mean that entirely bad, but you and me, together, I’m sorry if I’m making this weird.”

  His light blue eyes inspect me. “It doesn’t have to be weird, or awkward. It’s just us, you know. We can be what we’ve always been.”

  The problem between us is that I’m not sure what we ever were or had the potential to become. My face must show my emotions because his lips twist and he nods.

  “Right. Perhaps that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

  Apparently, Jude’s become a mind reader.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for this conversation.”

  I glance at him. His lips, full and beautiful as the rest of him, are lifted at one corner. “You ready for the kiss yet then?”

  He’s always been the only man who can make me smile and laugh so easily, and it’s usually when he’s being ridiculous. Mostly, Jude is ridiculous a lot of the time. “No, Jude. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”

  “Yet.” He moves toward me easily and slowly, the clink of his crutches on the floor the only sound other than the thundering of my pulse.

  He reaches out, slides his hand to the back of my neck. “Yet?”

  “Jude—”

  “Shh, Katie. Give me this, the hope that someday, you’ll be ready again.”

  Based on the heat flooding my veins, I’m ready now. I lean in and his hand at my neck squeezes. He’s so intense. All broad-shouldered and muscled and his icy blue eyes that change hues based on his emotions are intense, glimmering with the hope.

  “Jude.” My hand comes to his arm and I wrap my hand around his forearm. He’s bigger than he used to be. Stronger.

  So much the same and so different.

  It was difficult all those years ago to resist his pull, and it’s so much more difficult now.

  “I didn’t want that day to be goodbye, Katie. I wanted to talk to you, figure out how we could make things work. I wanted to fly you down to see me on breaks and for games when you didn’t have tests. I figured I’d come back to Chicago in the off-season, give us that time.” He dips his head, bringing his searing, rich gaze closer and stuns me with his next words. “I spent hours that day figuring out how we could make this work between us.”

  My lips part. He’s caught me off guard. His words from earlier are still rattling around in my brain. I didn’t want it to be goodbye.

  I hadn’t expected that. Or what he says now. Which probably explains why I’m in shock, and I do the one thing I shouldn’t, the one thing I’m terrified of.

  I roll to my toes and press my lips to his. I’m immediately lost, swept away in the scent and the soft feeling of his mouth as his hand holds me to him with a grip at my neck and he takes over.

  In the distance, a buzzer sounds, immediately followed by the vibration of his phone.

  “Dinner,” I whisper, pulling back and brushing my lips over his again.

  He chases me as I pull away, growling. “This isn’t over.”

  “Go sit. I’ll get the food.” I feel the weight of his gaze on me as I rush toward his door and smile at the the clink-clank of his crutches as he does what he’s told. My mind is going topsy-turvy.

  I’m not sure whether to be terrified, or excited that he feels that way. But at least this time, I know where his head is at.

  Now I only need to figure out where mine is.

  “So tell me about Charlotte. The team. What it’s like playing with your brother.”

  I’m mid-scoop, filling my chip with a hefty amount of guacamole, saving it for after the enchiladas I’ve already consumed. We not only have enough chips to last for the rest of his stay in Chicago, but we also have enough enchiladas and tacos and burritos to feed his entire hockey team.

  I’m sipping a glass of red wine he also had delivered and while we’ve spent most of dinner eating, we’re getting caught up and there is one thing I’m more certain of than ever.

  Jude Taylor is exactly the kind of man I’ve always wanted to have. Kind, generous. He’s protective and loves his family. He’s intense and competitive and protective.

  Jude leans back against the couch, head on the cushion, face toward the ceiling and smiles. His head turns toward me, and a chunk of his dark hair falls across his forehead. I barely have the control to tamp down the desire to push it out of his face.

  “It’s awesome. He’s six years older than me, you know? We never grew up playing together except on the pond in our backyard. These last few years, getting to hang with him… it’s amazing, Katie. I love every minute of it. With him. The team.”

  His voice softens as he talks, and something burns in the
back of my throat. I don’t know why I’m getting caught up in this except the look in his eyes can only be described as pure joy. The way he always looks when he talks about his family.

  “I’m glad you have that.” I sip my wine, washing away the emotion. And the realization I’m learning that I’m not ready to admit.

  I like this guy. A lot. It’s possible I always have.

  “And the rest of your brothers? Are they all still playing?”

  “No. Jake retired a year ago. He and his wife, Kiera, still live in New York. He didn’t want to pull his kids out of school but every time we see him he says how much he wants to move back here. Kiera teaches now. Middle school English. She loves her students too much to leave them. And their kids are eight and five now. Just starting school.”

  “That’s young, though. They’d adjust to a new school.” Lord knows I had to do it enough times and it was always easy until middle school. Then I homeschooled myself until we settled during my high school years.

  “Yeah, but they like where they are. Good friends. Jake has his foundation and camps he runs during the summer. He’s been talking about starting to coach teams, trying to get some programs going for lower-income kids who want to play too.” He shrugs and closes his eyes. It’s not too late, but I’m sure his meds are making him tired. “They like their life. Miss Chicago, but not enough to uproot everything.”

  “You miss them?”

  “All of them but Jason, all the time. Except for my mom. She’s batshit crazy.”

  He says it on a laugh, telling me he’s joking, also because there’s nothing but love in his expression or his voice when he talks about his parents.

  “Tell me about you, Katie. You been working at Lake View long?”

  “Coach Morten got me an internship there right after my senior year. I stayed through school at Chicago College and worked at Emmett’s at nights. Lake View hired me as soon as I passed my certification exams.”

  “You must have done well then. From what I learned, Lake View only hires the best and you usually need more experience.”

  “I did well. Full ride to school, but the internship probably helped the most. And honestly, I’m still working my way up, starting with more minor injuries and rehab. Trickier and more long-term cases go to the more experienced.” Talking about my achievements always embarrasses me, possibly because I never had a mom who cared much. Possibly because being homeschooled, there wasn’t anything to achieve except passing.

  Jude’s eyes narrow and he yawns again, covering it with the back of his hand. “That’s pretty badass. Guess all that studying paid off.”

  “Well, yeah. That’s kind of the point.”

  I see him fight another yawn and take that as my cue. “I should go. You’re tired and need your rest.”

  We’ve been sitting close together on his sectional, him just on the other side of the curve from me and when I move to stand, his hand comes down on my knee.

  “I am tired, but don’t go. I don’t want to say goodnight yet.”

  “You’re exhausted and probably need more meds. And have you used the cuff machine recently?”

  His hand still on my knee holds me tighter. He’s warm and strong. Comforting. “Going into therapist mode so you can stay longer or so you can avoid what’s happening here?”

  “I’m in therapist mode because I’m a therapist and it’s my job, so I know what I’m talking about. Also because I’m your friend.”

  “I don’t want you to be just my friend, and I think what happened in my kitchen proves you don’t only want that either.”

  The kiss. The one I stole and shouldn’t have.

  Of course he’d mention I’m the one who started that. I blame him for it and the spell he so easily casts on me with a look.

  “Have you used your CPM machine tonight?” In addition to the cuff that ices his leg to prevent swelling and ensures he doesn’t get blood clots, the CPM machine helps with motion of his knee, bending it and straightening it to assist with healing faster. He needs to be doing both and I don’t see either in the room.

  “They’re in my room. And if you insist on taking care of me, I’m going to let you. Only because it means you have to stay longer.”

  He leans his head back and closes his eyes. I slide out from beneath his hand and stand and smile down at him as he cracks one eye open. “Are you going to be awake when I return?”

  “I wouldn’t want to miss a moment with you for anything, so yeah.”

  His voice is thick with sleep. Possibly something else. My own body warms. He’s so bold and it’s hard to say no to him.

  A knock hits his door and he frowns, already grabbing his crutches. “You go get my therapy stuff, and I’ll see who’s at the door.”

  “I can get it.” I’m already up, but he stops me with a look, slowly climbing to his feet with a low groan.

  “No. I’ll get it. There can only be one or two people who’d show here.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My parents.”

  He laughs at my expression and I’m frozen to my spot on the floor so I don’t see him lean in close for a sneak-attack kiss, brushing his lips over mine and then my cheek before he grins down at me.

  “If you thought I was lying about Mom being batshit crazy, you’re about to see the truth. Go, get the stuff. She won’t leave until she sees you taking care of me.”

  “Her precious little boy?” I tease.

  “Something like that.”

  The knock grows louder and Jude gets moving, hobbling around furniture while putting a small amount of weight on his injured leg.

  “I’m coming, Ma! Calm down.”

  “Just what every woman loves being told,” I call out while hurrying to his bedroom. Perhaps there’s a secret exit so I can sneak out and she won’t see me. I’m not prepared at all to meet Jude’s mom, but there’s no way out of this.

  I grab his motion machine first. Once he’s worked his knee, he can use the cuff to ice it to prevent swelling.

  Heading back to the living room, I pass three closed doors. A three-bedroom apartment in a high rise overlooking Lake Michigan. His team didn’t set him up cheap and I shouldn’t be surprised. Like Lizzie said, he’s one of the best forwards in the NHL. Of course they want him comfortable. But what would it be like to have all of this at your disposal every day? I can manage my one-bedroom apartment on my own with my salary, but I have to be smart with my money. Jude grew up with money. He probably doesn’t blink about a heating bill in the dead of a brutal Chicago winter.

  It shouldn’t matter.

  But something cold spikes at the back of my neck as I trudge down the hallway. I can hear his murmurs, his mom’s quiet laughter.

  “Go home, Ma. I’m fine.”

  “Well I want to meet her.” She sounds giddy with excitement and that cold prickle at my neck spreads.

  “Ma…”

  It’s too late for more arguing. I reach the end of the hall and two heads swivel to me and I instantly know where Jude gets all of his dark coloring from. Not that I haven’t seen photos. But his mom is prettier in person despite nearing sixty than I could have imagined. Shoulder-length black hair cut into a stylish bob, curled perfectly. She has a chunk from the side held back with a clip that sparkles in what I’m guessing isn’t something cheap and fake from the Claire’s Boutique at the mall. Her makeup is minimal, and she probably rarely has to wear any with how beautifully soft and smooth her skin looks even from here.

  She’s effortlessly and classically beautiful.

  And so the exact opposite of me.

  “Hi,” I say and inwardly cringe. I head toward the couch and glance at Jude, dropping the machine on the floor near where he sat earlier. “You should set yourself up with this for twenty minutes. I’ll bring out the cuff in a bit so you can switch to that after.”

  “Katie.” He calls my name in that soft, imploring way of his. “Come meet my mom.”

  His hand is held out awkwardly,
arm draped over the crutch. I scoot around him and hold out my hand for his mom.

  “Kate Carter. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Her hand is warm in mine as she grips it. Soft too, like she gets a daily or weekly paraffin wax dip. When she shakes my hand, it’s with a warm and friendly squeeze. Her smile is inviting with dark brown eyes that are the only one of her features that don’t match Jude’s. “Sonya Taylor, and I apologize for interrupting. I tried calling Jude a few times tonight and he never picked up.” She shrugs like it all makes sense. “Us moms worry.”

  I nod like I get it, but in truth, I wouldn’t know. I don’t think I’d ever hear from my mom if I didn’t bother trying to hunt her down every couple of months. Even then, her cell reception can be spotty depending on where she’s currently setting up shop.

  “It’s no problem. I was just leaving.”

  “Katie—”

  “Oh no! You don’t have to do that.” Sonya steps back and reaches for her coat she’s draped over Jude’s couch. “I can go. Really, when he didn’t answer, I thought about his meds and then his leg, and figured I’d run over and double-check everything was fine. John told me I was being ridiculous anyway and he’s waiting for me outside.”

  Her babbling is adorable. I wish I could stay and enjoy it.

  “It’s okay, Jude.” I smile. It doesn’t feel right. I’m probably grinning like a psycho at both of them and Jude is quick to pick up on it with furrowed brows and pursed lips. “It’s for the best, really.”

  For a moment earlier, I forgot about my job, the risks of doing anything with him. I’ve already put my license at risk if anyone finds out we kissed earlier. I need to step back.

  This simply isn’t smart and unlike Jude, I don’t have trust funds and parents and a family to cushion the fall if I screw up.

  “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  I skirt around him and grab my coat I left by the door. Both of them look at me with curious expressions, Jude’s more thunderous than Sonya’s. I wrap my scarf around my neck and notice Jude’s hands clench on his crutches. If he was more mobile, I’d probably be body-checked into the wall.