Forever Wild (Wildcat Hockey Book 5)

EVERLY

I feel a little awkward as I walk beside Jack down the wing of the pediatric unit at the hospital. I know a couple of the nurses through Bridget, but Jack is walking at a clip, even with his bad leg, and I have to hustle to keep up with him.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he says as we follow behind Gina, the woman leading us to the conference room at the end of the hallway where she promised lots of children are eagerly waiting to meet him.

“Hospitals scare me,” I say, sticking close. “I saw one too many Grey’s Anatomy episodes as a kid.”

His lips quirk with amusement. “I didn’t think you were scared of anything.”

Despite my reservations, once Jack steps into the room of kids, a lot of them, all of which are very excited to see him, I go a little soft inside.

One little girl runs over and tackles him around the legs, then stares up at him in wonder. She barely comes to his knees and has to tilt her head way back to look at his face.

She looks at him the same way most grown women do, but it’s way cuter when she does it.

I watch Jack for any signs of discomfort, but thankfully the girl is latched on to his right side and he doesn’t seem distressed at all. In fact, he looks…sweet.

Well, as sweet as Jack ever looks. But his jaw is unclenched and the glare he often sends my way is nowhere in sight.

“I’m so sorry.” A woman, maybe the girl’s mom, walks over and encourages the little one to step away. And, yep, there’s that same look her daughter had.

Gina motions to a chair that they’ve placed in one corner of the room. Jack starts for it, and I step to Gina. “Can he also get a second chair to prop up his leg and maybe an ice pack.”

She looks apologetic, like she should have foreseen all these things. “Absolutely. Give me two minutes.”

“It’s okay,” Jack says as he gets situated in the chair. “That’s not necessary.”

Gina looks between us with an uncertain expression.

I start to protest, but then the man smiles. It makes my stomach flip. I know this was my idea, but I’m a little surprised it’s working so well. He’s a completely different guy than he was two hours ago.

“I’ll be fine like this for an hour,” Jack says.

“You’re sure?” Gina asks. I have no doubt that she’d grab him ten chairs and a hundred ice packs if that’s what he requested.

“Yeah.” Jack nods and she hurries off, calling for the children’s attention.

While she introduces Jack, he looks at me.

He tips his head to a free chair. “Take a load off, Ev. You look stressed.”

“That’s because you stress me out.”

“I’m perfectly agreeable right now.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s scaring me more than being in this hospital.”

Then he laughs. Truly terrifying.

From my chair in the corner, I watch for the next hour as a dozen kids and some parents wait for their turn with Jack. He’s gracious and personable. He signs jerseys and sticks and tons of other sports memorabilia items. All with an appreciative smile and a friendliness that makes the kids’ faces light up.

He has a certain presence about him. He’s a big guy, which I’m sure the kids find incredible on its own. But then he also has this celebrity look about him. It’s a quiet confidence on top of his handsome face that’s borderline too perfect. Even with the unkept beard and too long hair. He has a look that can’t be completely dimmed no matter how he dresses or takes care of himself.

When the last kid is ushered out of the room, Gina reappears by his side.

“Thank you,” she says with a sincerity in her tone that I know isn’t fake. “I can’t tell you how much it means to them when you stop by. It’s always the highlight around here. You’re good to us and we appreciate it more than I can say.”

I’m not surprised to hear that Jack comes here often and that he’s always the highlight, but I guess it’s a good reminder that beneath his tough, broody exterior he’s a really good guy. Sometimes I forget that amidst all our bickering.

“Happy to do it.” Still smiling, he gets to his feet. Jack stands taller, like the weight of the world is no longer weighing down his shoulders. And he’s still not glaring anywhere. Not even at me.

I’m officially weirded out.

“I’ll be in touch to lock you down for another visit,” Gina says with a final goodbye.

Jack and I start our trek back to the car.

“How’s your knee?” I ask.

“A little stiff.”

I spot a wheelchair against the wall. “Want a ride?”

“I don’t think one is big enough.” He smirks.

He’s right. It’s definitely made for someone smaller than him, which is basically ninety-nine percent of the population.

I step closer to him. “Wrap an arm around my shoulders and let me have some of your weight.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m fine. I can walk by myself.”

With a huge eye roll, I move to him. “You can but you don’t have to, Jackson.”

He definitely glares at me and I fight a smile.

I wrap one arm around his waist and nuzzle carefully against his side. He has little choice but to drape his cast along my shoulders. Though it doesn’t feel like he’s letting me take much of his weight.

He grumbles and that uneasiness I was feeling from his happy attitude dissipates. It’s good to be back on normal footing with him.

Once we settle into place with me helping him, a new kind of awareness hits me. The smell of him, burnt oranges and cinnamon and something else – something rich and lush, is like a drug. So are the hard ridges of muscle in his back and stomach. I’m not sure we’ve ever been this close, and I wish I could say that I am completely unaffected.

“Anywhere else you need to go?” I ask.

“Nope.” He removes his arm as we approach his vehicle. “You can drop me off and then you’ll be finally free of me.”

Something about that isn’t as freeing or as comforting as I imagined.

We ride in silence back to his house. I come to a stop behind my car and run my hand along the steering wheel, enjoying the soft, warm leather. I love my car, but I’m going to miss driving this one.

“Thank you,” he says softly as I shut off the engine.

“You’re welcome.”

We sit in the quiet car, neither of us moving.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick to you. The accident and my dad…” He trails off, some of that moodiness returning as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine.” His voice takes a hard edge. “People shouldn’t treat you like shit. Least of all me.”

I have no idea what to say to that. He’s right, though. It’s not fine. But I’ve given Jack plenty of reasons over the years to be a jerk and I know he’s going through a lot. And it’s not like I haven’t given it right back to him.

“Okay, well, how about a clean slate then?”

He snorts a quiet laugh. “Seriously?”

“I can admit that I have enjoyed riling you up a time or two.”

“A time or two?”

“Fine. It’s basically a hobby at this point.”

The smile Jack aims at me makes warmth spread through my chest.

“I should go,” I say finally.

“Should I expect to find you in my backyard later?”

“I don’t know. Is that an invitation?”

“Since when do you need an invitation?” He cocks a brow and a little of that bear I like to poke resurfaces.

Despite leaving things on good-ish terms, I don’t see Jack for several days. When I do my daily check-ins at his teammates’ houses, I look down the street for signs of life. Unknown vehicles, lights on, but I don’t see or hear him.

On Wednesday afternoon we hit a rare ninety degrees and I finally cave.

I knock on the door instead of bulldozing in the front door (or over the fence). I don’t really expect him to answer, but when he does, all thoughts fly right out the window.

Gone is the wild beard. The cast too. There’s no sign of the cane either. Or maybe his shirtless appearance just won’t let me see it because goddamn is the man a sight to behold in all his bulging bicep and ripped ab glory.

“Ev?” Jack’s voice breaks me out of my haze.

Wow, is that drool there on the corner of my mouth?

“Hi!” My cheery tone is borderline screechy. “You got the cast off.”

“Yeah.” He holds out his left arm and twists it while he stares down at it. The movement makes the muscles in his bicep and forearm pop.

“And Barnaby is gone?”

“Who?”

“I named your beard,” I admit with a sheepish smile.

“Right.” He runs a hand along his smooth jaw all seductively. Okay, maybe not intentionally but goddamn.

Jack stands there like he’s waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, he asks, “Here for the pool?”

“It’s a gorgeous day.” I finally snap out of it. Not looking at his bare chest helps. Except, were his eyes always that blue?

He steps back to let me inside.

“How’s physical therapy coming? Scare off any more nurses?”

Jack aims a playful glare at me that makes things feel more normal. “Not today.”

“Well, it’s only noon.”

He lets out a short huff and follows me through the house to the kitchen. Then surprises me when he comes to the backyard.

I’m shooting him a confused look when he motions with his head toward the right side of the patio where he has a whole workout setup. Yoga mat, bands, a medicine ball. And a young guy in black athletic shorts and a red shirt, biceps popping but somehow not quite as nice as Jack’s.

“I was just getting ready to work out,” he says as if I weren’t able to piece that together myself.

“Oh.” Well, now I feel ridiculous.

He must read it on me because Jack says, “The pool is all yours.”

“It’s okay. I can leave. I didn’t realize you had people over.”

“Hey, I’m Brian.” He walks over and extends a hand.

“Everly.”

He looks about my age, maybe a smidge older. He has blond hair and one of those big smiles that guys with too much confidence like to flash in dimly lit bars just before closing. “You must be Jack’s girlfriend.”

“No,” I say quickly. So quickly that Jack lets out a small snort.

“I’m just a friend,” I clarify.

“Oh.” He keeps that megawatt smile aimed at me as his gaze drops to my bare legs then back up to my face. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so blatantly ogled before. At least not in the light of day.

“We should get started,” Jack says gruffly, giving me his back. I guess our truce is over. Big, grumpy bear.

“Nice to meet you, Brian.”

“You, too.” His smile slides into a more professional expression.

Rock music plays over the outdoor speakers as I walk over to the same lounge chair I claim each visit. I bet Jack would hate it that I have been here enough times to have one that is “mine.”

By the time I’ve spread out my towel and begun to dig in my bag for sunscreen, Jack and Brian have begun working out.

I try not to watch. Try and fail. There’s a lot of lunging and grunting and muscles popping. Look, I know that my brother’s teammates are all in great shape, but most of the time when they’re working out, they’re covered in lots of padding and clothing. It’s a whole other experience seeing Jack shirtless with sweat glistening on his hard, toned body.

It almost makes me wish he still had that unruly beard. Anything to take away from how fucking good he looks.

I distract myself by pulling out my phone. Someone in Human Resources at the design firm sent over an email with employment forms and a ton of information. I read over it, stomach swirling with that anxious feeling I can’t seem to shake any time I think about the next step in my life.

I was always the kid who couldn’t wait to be an adult and out in the world on my own, and now…now I kind of wish I still had a couple more years to figure things out.

I love interior design. Art is the one thing I always seemed to be good at. What started as drawing and painting turned into restoring old furniture and picking out the perfect combination of pieces to make a room functional and beautiful. I still like to draw and paint too, but I never aspired to do those things for a living.

Actually, if I’m completely honest, I never really wanted to be an interior designer either. I sort of fell into it while taking art classes. At some point, I was forced to pick a major and I couldn’t think of anything else I’d rather do. That’s still true.

When my nerves can’t take it anymore, I close out of my email and open up my messages. And yes, I do steal another glance at Jack. His usual frown is in place. Except now it’s more of a determined scowl. My body tingles. Jesus, I really need to have sex. I cannot be fantasizing about Jack. We’re more likely to kill each other than fuck.

Oh god. Just the word has me feeling feral. What the hell is wrong with me?

Me

Help!

In true Bridget form, she calls five seconds later.

“Hello,” I answer, smiling already.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I am not helping you hide a body,” she says with a firm tone, then laughs. “Kidding. Tell me where to go and what to bring. Shovel? Duct tape?”

“Umm…condoms?”

“Ooh. I see. So it’s a serious cry for help.” Her soft laughter returns.

“Beyond serious. I’m having strange reactions to men I would never consider otherwise.”

“You mean Will? I thought you said he seemed nice.”

“No.” I shake my head. “We haven’t met up yet. Other people.”

“It sounds like that’s the answer to your problem then. You need a real date.”

“Yeah,” I say, but not loving the idea. “Maybe.”

“Wait. Who are you having strange reactions to? Anyone I know?”

I bite my lip as I glance at Jack again. His dark hair hangs down over his forehead and into his eyes. It’s longer than I’ve ever seen it and my fingers itch to push it back out of his face.

“No,” I lie. “This morning I hit a pothole and the car bumping along had me squeezing my thighs together.”

Ash’s laughter joins with Bridget’s.

“Sorry,” she says when she can control herself. “I had you on speaker. I’m taking you off. One sec.”

“It’s fine. Hi, Ash.”

“Hey, Little Sharpie.”

“Any words of advice? You used to date around. Ever hit a dry spell?”

“It was all a dry spell before Bridget,” he says.

I can practically see her rolling her eyes, but Ash is so gone for her, I don’t even question if he’s being serious. The moment he laid eyes on her, that was it.

“Hang in there, Ev,” he says. “You’ll find someone great.”

“I don’t want someone great. I want great sex.” I’ve always been able to separate sex from relationships, and I prided myself on being independent and not needing to be part of a couple to be happy. I believe that big, all-consuming love is out there. I mean, of course, I do. So many of my friends are madly in love, there’s no way I could deny it’s possible. But I haven’t sought it out. Everyone always says college is for having fun and finding yourself, and I took those words to heart. I always assumed I’d find love about the same time I started contributing to retirement.

Ash’s deep chuckle continues. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there. Though I am great at it. Has Bridget told you? She has, right?” He goes quiet and then asks her, “You tell your friends how great I am at making you come, right?”

I stifle a laugh as they playfully banter about what she does and doesn’t tell her friends, then I can hear them kissing before Bridget says, “Okay. I’m going into the other room. Let’s talk this out.”

There are so many things I love about Bridget, but her sincerity and the seriousness in which she takes my cry for help makes me adore her that much more.

For the next few minutes, she lays out options like the world depends on my getting laid. She has some good suggestions, most obviously finally going out with Will or more practically, spending the rest of the day in bed with my vibrator.

But while she troubleshoots the problem, I’m only half-paying attention. Because the guy across the yard—the one I definitely should not be ogling—has other ideas in my head. Ones that are absolutely out of the question. Outlandish fantasies. Completely impractical.

But goddamn I watch anyway.