Chapter Fourteen

GRACE

Lying in my bed, I stare up at the ceiling and try to sort through my feelings. I’m surprised by them, and a little confused, because I thought I’d be upset that I gave in to my desires and slept with Jensen.

But…I’m not.

I’m not upset at all. Yes, I left before he woke up, but that wasn’t because I was ashamed or regretted having sex with him. I just needed space to think, and I’d also been worried about running into Carson if I made my way back home in the morning. Returning to my apartment at about 4:00 AM, I’d crawled into my own bed, hoping to get a little more sleep, but I haven’t had much luck. I just can’t stop thinking about Jensen.

What exactly is it that I want from him? I honestly don’t know, but I’m not at all convinced that we would work in an actual, long-term relationship. No matter how much he insists that he fell for me and not just for Lynn, I can’t help but doubt the truth of that. I’m not the girl I was in Miami. Then, I was pretending. I was being Lynn.

In real life, Grace and Lynn are very different people. For that matter, I also don’t know if he’s the same person he was in Miami. He could have been pretending to be someone else as well.

Releasing a frustrated breath, I sit up and check my clock. It’s 7:00 AM, so Skyler should be awake in Florida. I need advice from someone who can look at this whole, messed up situation with a somewhat objective eye. Skyler’s the best option I’ve got. Grabbing my phone, I dial her number and she picks up on the third ring.

“Grace?” she answers groggily. “Is everything alright?”

“Kind of, sort of,” I hedge, running a hand through my hair. “I need your advice.”

“Hang on, let me get some coffee,” Skyler says before the line goes quiet for about five minutes. I almost wish she’d just hung up and called me back, but that’s Skyler. When she finally comes back, she sounds much more awake. “Alright, shoot.”

“Okay… so, last night, Carson took me out to his favorite bar and Jensen ended up being there…”

“Oooh!” Skyler exclaims. “Jensen? I am all ears.”

I release a breath and roll my eyes. “Well, he ended up giving me a ride home and we fought, or more like I fought with him, but then… then he kissed me, and then we went up to his apartment, and…”

I trail off, my cheeks heating as I think about what exactly happened once we got to his apartment.

“Grace?” Skyler urges. “Did you let that fine ass man screw your brains out or not?”

Releasing a long breath, I say, “Yes. Yes I did.”

Skyler screeches so loudly that I have to yank the phone away from my ear, wincing as it makes my head throb. How does she always have so much energy, even so early in the morning?

“Oh, my God! Grace! I knew it. I knew there was still something between you two!”

“Okay, just chill out for a second,” I groan, flopping back on the bed. “This doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It was just a one time thing. Maybe?”

“Was it good?” Skyler asks, intrigue dripping from her tone.

I hesitate a moment before confessing, “Yeah. Yeah, it was really damn good. But that’s not the point! I still don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to be messing around with him. He’s Carson’s best friend, after all, plus I’m still not convinced he actually likes me and not Lynn.”

“But you are Lynn,” she points out.

“Not really,” I shrug. “Lynn was the party girl version of me who needed to be released so she could go back into her box, way back in my subconscious. He doesn’t actually know me. And of course, there’s always the issue of him being a hockey player.”

She groans. “Oh my God, would you just get over that stupid rule? You’re getting in your own way!”

“Then what should I do, Sky?” I ask, desperate for some sort of guidance and direction.

“Keep an open mind,” she tells me. “Maybe Jensen isn’t like those hockey players you knew in high school. Maybe he’s actually a decent guy who really likes you. Sure, he’s Carson’s best friend, but as far as I’m concerned, Carson can eat a big bowl of dicks, so don’t let your stupid brother keep you from pursuing something that could make you happy.”

I sigh, knowing she’s right about Jensen but not wanting to admit it. “I know, I know. It’s just complicated.”

“I know,” Skyler says soothingly. “But Grace, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel alive and pushes you out of your comfort zone. If Jensen can do that for you, then why not give it a shot?”

“Because we’re two different people now,” I counter.

“Maybe,” she concedes. “Or maybe not. There are plenty of things about you that haven’t changed. You still love to hang out with your friends, and you give 100% of your focus to the people you’re with. You’re passionate and smart as hell. Those things haven’t changed.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m just letting my fears and biases get in the way of something that could actually be good for me.

“All right,” I sigh. “I’ll try to keep an open mind. Give Jensen a fair chance, if he’s still interested.”

“Oh, I have no doubt he’s still interested,” she assures me with a chuckle. “You’re a snack, baby girl. He’d be an idiot to let you slip away a second time.”

I can’t help but grin at her words.

“Thanks, Skyler,” I mumble. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime, babe. If you ever need anything else, just call.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hang up the call and drop my phone beside me on the bed. Talking to Skyler has made me feel lighter. Less burdened. As if just venting my confusion and frustration was enough to help me think clearer. Pushing to my feet, I decide to push Jensen from my mind for the time being. I’ve let him dominate my thoughts for too long and I need to focus on something else. Like work, for instance. I have video and pictures of Carson that I need to create into content for his social media profiles, and I’m not the type of person to let my professional life falter because my personal life is a complicated mess.

I make some coffee, settle at my desk, turn on some music, and dive into the sea of images and videos. The rhythmic click-clacking of my fingers on the keyboard soothes me, transporting me to a calmer place where there is no Jensen, no hockey players, and no secrets. Just me, my computer, and the desire to make Carson look every bit as flawless as he thinks he is.

The day flies by in a blur as I create posts and schedule them to go out throughout the next week. I’m so immersed in my work that I don’t even notice the sun dipping behind the horizon until my stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten all day.

Taking a short break, I heat up leftovers and munch on chicken fried rice while scrolling through my phone, checking social media. As I’m looking through my Instagram, I wonder if Jensen has a profile. He has to, right? It’d be almost irresponsible for a public figure like him not to have one.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek, right? To compare his posts to the ones I’ve made for Carson. That’s all. There’s absolutely no other reason for me to check out his profile. Nope. None at all.

I open the app and type in his name, heart thudding in anticipation. It doesn’t take me long to find him. Thankfully, his profile isn’t private, so I don’t have to follow him to snoop. I would literally die of embarrassment if he knew I was doing this.

Scrolling through his pictures, I can’t help but admire how well his profile is curated. Whoever he has on his social media team knows what they’re doing. The images are sharp, the captions are engaging, and the hashtags are relevant. When I come across a shirtless picture of him, I pause.

Damn. This man is something else.

The image is posed, and he’s wearing his gear from the waist down, but no helmet and … well, nothing, from the waist up. He has a hockey stick resting across his shoulders and his hands draped over it as he gazes off to the side, showing off his chiseled profile. His defined pecs and rock hard abs have a bit of shine to them. Did they oil him up for this picture?

And just like that, I’m imagining myself sliding my hands over his torso. Running my fingers along every dip and ridge. Reaching down to his pants and undoing them so I can push them down… down… down…

A gasp of breath escapes me and my cheeks flush.

I toss my phone aside like it’s a spider. What am I doing? I was trying not to let myself get distracted by thoughts of Jensen, and yet here I am, ogling his Instagram like an out of control puck bunny. No more. I’m not going to let myself slide down this very slippery slope.

Well, maybe another peek wouldn’t be so bad.

I snatch my phone back up and gaze down at the picture again. He really is stupid good-looking. His dark hair and beard make him look rugged. Memories from our night together rise up in my mind. The feel of his fingers brushing along my skin. The touch of his lips brushing against mine. His tongue between my legs.

Christ, it’s getting hot all of the sudden. I can feel myself getting wet and my core is throbbing like it has its own heartbeat. My fingers start twitching as the urge to touch myself slowly burns through me. Biting my lip, I try to resist. I shouldn’t play with myself to pictures of Jensen. That would be awkward. Weird. Inappropriate.

Damn it. I’m going to do it, aren’t I?

Sighing in defeat, I walk back into my bedroom and slip out of my pants. Crawling up onto my bed, I rest my back against my pillows and get settled, letting my knees fall wide as I trail my fingers up my inner thigh, teasing myself. When I reach my panties, I pause and stare down at Jensen’s picture. Swallowing, I toss the phone to the side and lie back, closing my eyes as I reach between my legs.

I hiss out a breath at the first stroke of my fingers through my pussy. It feels good. Not as good as when Jensen was touching me, but still. I can’t help but relax, throwing my other arm over my head, and surrendering completely as I let my imagination run free.

Dark dangerous eyes, staring up at me from the edge of the bed. His firm rock hard body slowly crawls towards me, as the corner of his lips turn up into a smirk.

“You’re touching yourself while you think of me?” he says in a low, rumbling voice. “Naughty girl. Didn’t get enough last night?”

I gaze down at him as I circle a finger over my clit, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I fight to hold back my moans. Moans that only he creates within me.

He tsks and shakes his head.

“What are you doing?” he growls. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear how good you’re making yourself feel.”

“I can’t…” I whimper, my lip finding its way between my teeth. “I need you.”

“No… I want you to do it. Show me how wet you can make yourself.”

It’s like I can’t resist his commands. I release my lip and a moan immediately slips free. His eyes darken and his jaw tenses. “Yeah, that’s it,” he tells me. “I love the sounds you make. Keep going, baby. Keep playing with that pretty pussy for me.”

I whimper and rub my clit harder. The tell-tale tightening deep in my belly takes me by surprise. I’m going to cum already?

“Good girl.” Jensen’s deep voice washes over me. I squirm under his gaze, toeing the edge of my release. “Cum for me, Grace. Cum for me hard.”

His words are the last bit of stimulation I need and I hit my peak with such force, my hips shoot up off the bed and my legs start to shake.

I keep rubbing myself, harder and harder, my eyes squeezed shut as I hold onto the image of Jensen leaning over me, his gaze drinking me in as I come completely undone beneath him. When I can’t take anymore, I yank my hand from my panties with a whimper.

Holy shit. That was intense.

My breathing is heavy as I stare up at the ceiling, stunned. My body is still shivering from the aftershocks of my orgasm, and yet, I’m not fully satisfied. It wasn’t enough. I need more. I need Jensen. Groaning, I drape my arm over my eyes, as if I can hide from the realization that I might actually be falling for Jensen Reece.

“You can handle this,” I murmur to myself, as I make my way into the stadium the next day, my camera bag slung over my shoulder. “You’re a goddamn professional. You can be around Jensen without acting like a total idiot. Stop freaking out!”

I realize that I probably look like a crazy person, muttering to myself as I flash my security badge and make my way through the metal detectors. If I don’t get my shit together, I’m going to make an absolute fool of myself.

Despite my harsh pep-talk, my heart is hammering when I reach the rink. I feel like a teenager again, about to see my crush after spending the night fantasizing about him. Reaching the penalty box, I start to get my equipment set up when Carson and a few other players suddenly skate out onto the ice. I frown when no one else on the team joins them.

Carson spots me and waves and my face feels like it’s on fire. I had sex with his best friend two nights ago, and played with myself as I fantasized about him last night. This is so goddamn awkward. I try to keep a cool and collected expression as Carson skates over to me.

“Good morning, stranger,” he teases. “How was your hockey-free day yesterday?”

I clear my throat and fight to sound casual. “I wouldn’t say it was exactly hockey-free. I was still stuck looking at pictures of your stupid face all day.”

“Uh, twins,” he says. “My stupid face is your stupid face, remember?”

I grin, feeling a little more at ease.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, glancing around the ice at the scant number of players.

Carson shrugs. “It’s goalie-only practice this morning.”

Relief crashes through me and I almost sway on my feet. "Really, goalie-only practice?" I ask, trying to mask the too-eager note in my voice.

Carson nods, "Yeah, yeah. Coach wants us to run some specialized drills since we've been letting in a few too many goals lately. It’s a special day of torture just for us."

“Better get your shit together, then,” I tease.

Carson rolls his eyes. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know? Anyway, I need to go get warmed up. Stay out of trouble.”

“You too,” I reply, giving him a wink. He salutes me as he skates away.

Thank God. Goalie-only practice means no Jensen. I can relax a little bit and focus on my job. As I finish setting up my camera equipment, I feel lighter. I’ve got a little more time to think about how I’m going to approach Jensen the next time I see him.

Practice gets underway and I focus my camera on Carson. I watch as he expertly blocks shots, one after another. The other goalies don’t hold a candle to him. Carson really is a fantastic goalie, and I hope my photos and video reels can do him justice. I lose myself in the rhythm of my work, the click of my camera shutter marking time alongside the scraping of skates on ice and the satisfying thud of pucks slamming into the boards.

“My, my,” a voice suddenly speaks next to me. “I’m not really a sports fan, but even I can see that these boys are impressive.”

I jump, startled, and whirl around to find a gorgeous blonde woman in a black jumpsuit, with a gold-buckle belt tight around her slim waist. Her emerald green eyes flash with interest as she looks me up and down.

“Um… hi,” I stammer. Who is she? She doesn’t look like the type of person who frequents hockey stadiums all that often.

“Hi,” she replies, her smile polite but not warm. “I’m Camille.”

“I’m Grace,” I murmur. “I, uh, haven’t seen you around before.”

She nods, looking out at the ice again. “No, you wouldn’t have. I’m just here to meet one of the players, but I don’t see him here.”

“It’s a goalie-only practice,” I explain lamely. “Who are you looking?—”

Before I can finish, her phone suddenly rings. She holds up a finger to me and pulls it out of her pocket.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. “I need to take this. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I reply but she has already turned from me and is walking away.

I watch her go, completely baffled by the interaction.

Who was she looking for? And why did it feel like it mattered so much? Shaking my head, I turn back to the ice, refocusing my attention on Carson and his fellow goalies. My lens hones in on Carson as he cradles a puck with his glove, a demonstration of precision and skill. I refocus my camera and soon enough, the mysterious blonde is pushed out of my thoughts.