17. Aaron

17

AARON

I wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum that Olivia calls home, never mind the months that she’s been living there.

She warned me about her roommates, but I did not count on a huge guy in a Santa suit—and when I say “Santa suit,” I mean the OG Mean Girls version, complete with fur-trimmed skirt and thigh-high leather boots—piping away to “Jingle Bell Rock.”

I was also not counting on a frantic woman running through the doorway, crashing straight into my chest, and no word of a lie, looking up at me and saying, “Oh, good, you look rich. I need some money to bail Elliott out of jail.”

It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I left her place last night… to the sight of a parking ticket on my windshield and a little dent in my driver’s side door.

But I haven’t given the car a second thought, because through my entire workout this morning, my mind’s been stuck firmly on Olivia and how her cheeks stained crimson as she ushered her wayward roommate back into the apartment, stepped inside herself, and then thanked me for the ride home—before she shut the door in my face.

Now, as I walk through our training facility and into the industrial kitchen where Stefani whips up all kinds of goodies for us, I’m thinking about how this isn’t the first time I’ve unwittingly embarrassed her.

The night in high school when I ended up in her bedroom was worse.

It all happened in a blur. Jake and I were coming home late from a party when we set off the sensor lights in his mom’s yard. Jake ducked into the garage, but in a panic, I scaled the nearest drainpipe, and ended up tumbling into Olivia’s room.

Instead of doing what I should have done—which was get straight out of there and go to Jake’s room—I stayed. We talked. And for the first time ever, we actually got along. Something about the dark of night made us honest, and when she admitted that she’d never been kissed, I was dumb enough to ask her if she’d like to be.

She shocked the hell out of me by nodding, I leaned in…

And reality kicked in.

I left as quickly as I could, and by the next day, we’d gone from casual rivals to full-blown enemies. On her end, at least.

Now, I’m frustrated knowing that she goes home to that dive of an apartment every night. And after meeting her roommates, I can understand why she wants to escape them and their impending Christmas Rave.

In the kitchen, I flick on the lights and head to the fridge. Nobody’s here yet—we’re not scheduled to review game tape until noon—but I decided to come in early for an extra gym session, and now, I’m starving.

Stef cooks fresh food for us after our practices, but she also usually leaves premade food for us for when she’s not here. Today, I help myself to a huge container of overnight oats, a vanilla protein shake, and a couple of those awesome blueberry muffins she makes with the crumbly bits on the top.

I sit at the butcher block table with my spread of food, then slide my phone out of my pocket. I’m surprised, given the early hour, to see I have a new text. Even more surprised to see it’s from Olivia.

Thanks again for the ride last night. And sorry again about my roommates.

I shove a spoonful of oats in my mouth as I text her back.

It was my pleasure. I always seize an opportunity for some Bieber car karaoke.

Did your bagpiping friend play ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ all night?

He did, yes. Switched it up at 6am today. ‘Silent Night’ was my alarm clock.

Ironic. I cannot believe you live with those people.

Lol and you didn’t even meet the pantie thief.

I almost drop my phone.

There’s another roommate? Of the underwear-stealing variety?!

Unfortunately, yes.

I fully plan to find a new place by January, by the way. It’s my early resolution.

I hear ya. I’d hate to find out what Regina George plays on the bagpipes for New Years.

I pause for a moment, and then quickly type out one more text.

Speaking of, did you manage to get your Christmas schedule sorted out?

I press send before I can talk myself out of it. It’s not like we ever text, never mind texting for small talk, but I’m curious.

The bubbles pop up, then disappear. Once, twice. Three times.

“Marino!”

I look up to see Tony standing in the doorway of the kitchen, clad in a puffy North Face jacket and a baseball cap with the Cyclones logo on it. His face is more relaxed than usual, his lips almost turning upward at the corners. Beside him is an attractive woman who looks to be in her early twenties. She’s got long dark hair, deeply tanned skin, and the same piercing eyes as my coach.

“Hey, Coach.” I pocket my phone and give him a wave. “Just fueling up after hitting the gym.”

“Glad to hear it.” He indicates the woman at his side. “This is my daughter, Caelin.”

“Hi.” I stand from the table and stick out a hand. I’ve met Coach’s wife a number of times but never his daughter. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she responds with a big smile, shaking my hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. And the others.”

I laugh. “Good things, I hope?”

“Not in the least.” Tony snorts, but his eyes are glinting with humor. “Caelin’s just come back from Asia.”

“That’s awesome. Vacation?”

“Backpacking,” she replies. “Toured Southeast Asia and Australia, and then taught English in Singapore.”

“I’m impressed. Most tropical place I’ve been to is Hawaii.”

“She’s a go-getter,” Tony says proudly. “But I’m glad to have her home.”

“I’ll bet.” I look over at her. “Are you staying in town for long?”

“At least until the new year. I’m ready for a real Christmas. Last year, I was in Sydney, and a Christmas barbecue on the beach felt wrong on so many levels.”

“I can imagine. I’m from Jersey, so even Atlanta doesn’t feel like real Christmas to me because it never snows.” I chuckle. “Hey, if you’re ever at a game, you should find Jake Griswold’s sister, Olivia. She’s a flight attendant and has been to a ton of places. I’m sure she’d love to chat with you about traveling.”

And I’m sure she’d love to meet more like-minded, normal people in this city, given the characters she currently lives with.

“Oh, cool. I totally will.”

Coach clears his throat. “Cae, do you mind heading to my office while I have a word with Aaron?”

Caelin says her goodbyes, and Tony turns to me.

“You have a good Thanksgiving in the end?” he asks gruffly.

“Yes, sir. I had the whole team at my place for dinner. Jimmy called it ‘Teamsgiving’.”

“Checks out.” Coach just about rolls his eyes. “How are we looking for the game with New York tomorrow?”

“Team’s looking good. Morale is also good. I think everyone’s feeling pretty confident about our chances.”

“Glad to hear it,” Coach harrumphs. “I’m thinking we trash the ice and give the press something to talk about other than rogue puck bunnies creating trouble. Got it?”

“Got it,” I say, my hand automatically going to the bracelet on my wrist. I spin it around as I remember that I need to make sure Brandi doesn’t win a date with me at the Christmas auction in a couple weeks. Any time spent around that woman will surely just give her more ammunition to create stories about me that’ll send fricking Lieberman into revolt.

He nods brusquely. “Don’t let me down.”

My stomach clenches uncomfortably at his words. “I won’t.”

“Good. I’ll see you in the media room later, then.”

Coach leaves the kitchen and I sit back down, suddenly no longer all that hungry. My phone buzzes again.

I don’t know what I’ll do about Christmas. But I’ll figure something out.

And just like that, I have an idea.

A harebrained idea of Triple J proportions, maybe… but an idea nonetheless.

Before I can overthink it—and risk talking myself out of it—I forget all about my breakfast, dash out to the parkade, and get in my dented car.

Then, I drive straight back to Olivia Griswold’s apartment.