Bellevue Bullies: Hooked By Love - Part 22
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Part 22

"You should. That's nice."

"It's just weird, you know?"

When he looks at me, I smile. "Not really. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm just running my mouth and I don't know why. I usually don't talk about this. It's just..." He trails off and glances at me shyly, which makes me fight back a grin.

"Easy?" I supply and he nods.

"Yeah." He lets go of my hand to wrap his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. "So, yeah, it was h.e.l.l when Coach asked, but I guess I should just go with it."

"How do your brothers feel about it? And your sister...Lucy, was it?"

He nods. "Yeah, youngest of four, and they are cool with it. Want my mom to be happy."

"That's really sweet."

He shrugs. "Yeah, I love my family."

I could tell that even without his saying it. I'm jealous of his wholehearted love for his family. I wish I had that. I wish I could stand there and just know I love my family and they love me, but I can't. Usually, when someone loves you, they prove it with their actions and don't just depend on the three words as enough. With Jace, it's crystal clear he loves them. No words needed, it's just there. I wish I had that.

"So you said your mom and dad are still married?"

Looking up at him, I nod. "Yup, and I have two older brothers and a twin brother, but they all treat me like an afterthought."

His face twists with confusion. "Don't get along with them, I take it?"

I laugh. "What makes you say that?"

"You might as well have said, 'I hate them all,'" he laughs and I shrug.

"They aren't very good to me, I guess," I say, but then I pause because I've already said too much.

"Why's that?"

See? He wants to know stuff, and I just don't know how to share it. I never had to because no one ever cared enough to ask. Well, Mekena did, but I just lied to her. Meeting Jace's gaze, I really don't think I can lie to him.

"I may be a twin, but I feel like the last priority and not like the baby of the family. Usually, the baby is babied and spoiled. That wasn't the case for me. I was overlooked almost all the time, and I guess I'm bitter about it." I look away. "Hockey is and always will be first in my family. It's all that matters, makes the world turn, and all that s.h.i.t. Since all three of my brothers play and are great, my parents put all their time into them, and I was just along for the ride. I never really mattered. My dreams didn't hold a candle to theirs, and when I moved here, they weren't supportive. They were kind of mean, except my mom. She tries-she does. I love her, truly, I do. She did the best she could, I guess, but still, I feel alone when I'm with them."

What. The. h.e.l.l. Did. I. Just. Do?

Gasping, I look away, sucking in a breath as my eyes widen. I might as well have held up a sign that said, "I have family issues, feel sorry for me!" Jace isn't saying anything, and I know he is probably taken aback by my blabbering. But I chance a glance anyway, and like I thought, he's just watching me. Faking a grin, I look away. "Yeah, sorry about that. Whoa, right? Just letting my crazy flag fly." I laugh with no humor in my voice, moving out of his arms to put some distance between us. Not for me, but for him. To give him an out because I know I just sounded every bit the crazy person I am. "Just listening to you talk about your family, I'm pretty sure you've never felt that way a day in your life. So yeah, you have no clue what I'm saying."

I'm making it worse.

Just shut up!

When he stops, I stop too, meeting his gaze. And I'm confused by the way he's looking at me. He isn't looking at me like he pities me. Then he pulls me into a tight hug and I tense up because I don't want his pity. Yeah, maybe I just word-vomited on him and I really shouldn't have. But like he said earlier, it's easy with him. I should want to push him away, but I don't. Instead, I want to wrap my arms around him. When his lips press to my temple, so soft and sweet, I close my eyes and relax against him, my arms coming up around his waist. I may have been embarra.s.sed and felt like a dumba.s.s, but with his arms around me, his lips on me, I don't feel like that anymore.

I feel good.

I feel normal.

"They suck not to realize how important you are and how awesome your dreams are. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not apologizing for them. It's their loss."

My mouth pulls at the side as I nuzzle deeper in his arms. "Thanks."

Pulling away, he kisses my nose and then we are walking again. "So, they all play?"

I scoff. "Of course, you're gonna go back to that."

He shoots me a grin. "You said hockey and they are good. Of course, I'm gonna ask."

I roll my eyes as I lean into him. I really don't want to talk about my brothers, but I should have known he'd ask. My heart speeds up in my chest and I'm unsure if it's because we are talking about my family, or if it's because I'm about to go on another date with this guy.

"Avery?"

"Oh, sorry. Yeah, they are good. We were all in skates the moment we could walk."

"So you play?"

"G.o.d, no. I suck and can't skate very well."

He smiles. "I'll teach you."

"I'm good."

When we turn the corner, I should have known his special place was the ice rink.

It is a short walk to the rink, and as soon as we walk in, I look over at him. "I should have known."

"Yeah," he agrees, taking my hand and leading me through the lobby.

"We aren't skating, are we?"

He shakes his head as he goes through the doors that lead into the actual rink. "No."

Thank G.o.d.

I may come from a very hockey-driven family, but this girl does not skate. I like my feet on the ground, thank you very much. Following behind him around the rink, I notice someone is on the ice, shooting a bucket of pucks, but I'm too taken with all the banners hanging from the rafters. Bellevue is new in the hockey world, but it's hard not to know they are a force to be reckoned with. The guys who come out of this school go into the NHL. I had even told Matty that, but he was h.e.l.l-bent on going to Boston.

As I look around at each banner, I see one with his name in the middle of it. Above it, it reads Leading Scorer along with the number of goals he scored and last year's date.

"So you're bada.s.s?" I say, c.o.c.king my head to the banner.

He grins back at me at me proudly. "Um, yeah. The best. Didn't I tell you that?"

"A few times."

He laughs. "I got hurt last year and still had the most goals of the team. I'm a sniper."

I raise a brow, hiding how impressed I am by the fact he scored sixty-two goals, as it says on the banner. I may not like the sport, but I know it inside and out. I've never met anyone who has scored that many goals in a season. "Is that right?"

"You know it, baby."

"Dork," I say, leaning into him. "Is that why you didn't go into the draft?"

He nods. "Yeah, broke my clavicle from a hit I took trying to protect that woman right there," he says, pointing before pulling open the rink door. "Hey, Moore! You playing by yourself 'cause that's the only way you can score?"

I'm completely confused until the person on the ice pulls off their helmet and a bunch of blondish brown hair falls to her shoulders. Shocked, I watch as the gorgeous girl with bright red lips glares over at Jace.

"Dude, please. I can skate circles around you, and I have."

He holds a finger up, pointing to his banner. "Um, see my banner? It's new," he adds with a boyish grin.

"Did your mommy sew it for you?"

He glares. "Don't talk about my momma."

"What, you gonna tell her? Be a crybaby?" she calls at him as she skates over.

"Shut it," he yells at her as they hug. "What are you doing?"

"Baking a cake, dumba.s.s," she yells and I giggle as he waves her off.

"No, jerk. I mean, like, why are you here? Where's your husband?"

"I'm mad at him, and I am mad at my dad. So I came to blow off steam. What are you doing?" she asks and then her gaze falls on me. Her brow rises. "Don't deface our rink, Jace. It's tacky."

When he punches her shoulder and she smacks him back, I have no clue what's going on. Are they friends? Enemies? Looking back at me, Jace says, "This hostile brat is my sister-in-law, Baylor. She's married to my brother Jayden. Hostile brat, this is my friend, Avery."

She smiles. "Hey, don't take offense to my comment. I just like messing with him."

"It's fine," I say, waving her off. "But I'm confused. I thought you called her Moore?"

"Yeah, she's dumb and didn't take our name," he accuses and she laughs.

"Um, no, it's Moore-Sinclair, hyphenated, and we did that so there is no confusion on the ice."

Then it clicks. "Baylor Moore, first woman in the NHL."

She grins. "In the flesh. So you know hockey?"

"Just a bit," I say with a grin and I kind of feel honored to meet her. It was a huge deal when she was drafted last year. My whole family was there since Laurence was in the draft. Come to think of it, I remember seeing Jayden go first.

Small world.

"Cool. About time you got with someone who isn't a ho."

"Are you talking about your best friend?"

Baylor laughs as she nods. "Ha! I'm so telling her you said that."

"You're the one who said it," he challenges as he laughs. "But whatever. Okay, I'll let you get back to being a hostile brat." Jace laces his fingers with mine. "We have a special place to go."

Her lips quirk at the side. "The special place?"

"Well, yeah. It's a Sinclair honey hole."

She rolls her eyes. "You guys are losers. It was nice meeting you, Avery. Love you, Jace."

"You too," I say as he starts to pull me away.

"Love you," he calls as he slams the door shut and then waves. Taking my hand, he heads toward some stairs and then we are climbing. He's taking them two at a time, and I struggle to keep up. "She's a pain in my a.s.s."

"She's nice."

"Ha. Nice is not in Baylor's vocab, but she's mine, so we deal."

He's full of it and I know it, but I don't comment as we climb. Finally, he pauses in front of a door and turns to me. "Hold on."

"What?" I ask, shivering from the bitterness of the air.

He grins. "Give me two seconds."

Before I can protest, he turns and heads inside the room, shutting the door behind him. Turning, I look out at the rink as Baylor skates around and plays with the puck. I can still remember how my brothers threw a fit she was drafted before Laurence. While she went straight into the NHL, Laurence didn't get drafted and decided to finish school because of it. The guys in my family don't do rejection well, but Laurence was never as good as Seth or Matty. But he plans to finish college and then go back to the farm team. If they'll take him. But knowing my dad, they will.

When the door opens behind me, I turn to find Jace grinning at me, beckoning me to come in.

And when I do, I gasp.

The room is completely dark except for the many candles flickering around the room. On the floor is a pallet of blankets and pillows, with a tray of snacks and two bottles of soda next to it. I look at him and he's watching me, his eyes dark as I stare at him in complete puzzlement.

Because I know now this guy is not going to make it easy.

Not even a little bit.

"So this is my favorite spot, and let me show you why."

Jace takes my hand, pulling me to the ledge where you can see the whole ice and the arena around it, then pointing down at it. "In about ten minutes, the Zamboni will go for about a half an hour. I love the sound of the Zamboni. I usually just lie here and listen to it. Or if I'm studying, it calms me. Then," he says, pulling back to where the blankets are. He points to the ceiling, and I look up to see only gla.s.s and the black night sky looking back at me. The moon is full tonight and bright, the stars shining in all their glory.

It's beautiful.

"So I lie here, looking at the sky, and listen to the Zamboni. I usually fall asleep here. Mike, the ice guy, has found me plenty of times," he laughs as he lowers himself onto the blankets, kicking off his sneakers. "Wanna sit with me? Or you got plans with Totally Lame Todd?"

I roll my eyes as I kick off my flats and sit down next to him. Baylor is still slamming pucks into the goal, the cracking sound of her stick filling the room as I turn onto my belly, reaching for a slice of cheese from the spread. "The only lame guy I'm digging is Lame Line Larry."

Fist-pumping, he yells out, "Yeah!"