Forever Wild (Wildcat Hockey Book 5)

Forever Wild: Chapter 4



JACK

I’m on the exercise bike in my gym when the doorbell rings. Ignoring it, I keep going. I was in great shape before the accident and now I’m struggling to cycle for more than five minutes without feeling like my body is going to give out. I hate it so much it fuels me to push harder.

Sweat drips from my face as I lean over the bike, holding on with one hand, and pedal faster. I left my air pods in my bedroom and didn’t want to hobble across the house for them, but now the only sound is my ragged breathing, which reminds me that I have a long way to go before training camp in September.

A knock on the front door is barely audible over the sound of me sucking in air. My hackles go up immediately. I’ve come to really fucking hate that sound lately.

I don’t stop pedaling. The nurse already came by today. Another new one. She barely spoke as she quickly checked on me, removed the last bandage, and asked me how I was doing.

I answered in a grunt and she fled like a scared rabbit soon after, when it was clear I wasn’t going to let her take me for a walk around the block either. What the fuck is their obsession with leisurely afternoon walks in the neighborhood?

The knocking turns to banging. For all of two seconds I reconsider answering it or at least going to see who it is, but then it stops. Good.

I’m focusing back on my workout, pumping my legs, and trying to ignore the weakness of my left leg. The doctor said to be patient, but he doesn’t have a career depending on his ability to skate like hell and knock people against the boards.

The season ended because of my fuck up. Not just my season, but the team’s too. They were depending on me, and I had to sit by and watch, completely helpless, while they struggled to shift players around to fill my absence.

A sound pulls me from my focus—something that sounds an awful lot like the front door closing.

What the hell?

I stop pedaling and listen closely. Quick footsteps click on the hardwood floors. There is definitely someone in my house. Few people would just let themselves in. Maybe my agent James came back early from vacation?

I’m staring toward the door, waiting for the intruder to announce themselves, when a woman with long, tan legs in cut-off shorts and a red and white striped tube top appears in the doorway.

“Oh, good. You’re alive,” Everly says in a tone that suggests maybe she’s not all that happy I haven’t reached an untimely demise.

“Was that really a question?” I arch one brow, feeling another trickle of sweat slide down into my eye. It burns, but it’s a welcome feeling to distract from the pain in my knee.

“Seeing as how you aren’t answering the door or your phone, it was among the possibilities.”

“Couldn’t be that I’m just busy.”

Ignoring me, she holds up a white bag. “I brought lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.” I go back to biking while she lowers the food sack and glowers at me. “And why are you bringing me food? I’m not helpless.”

“Wow, Everly, that was so nice. Thank you,” she says in a sugary-sweet tone as she mocks me. Her blonde hair is pulled up today in a ponytail that swings from side-to-side as she speaks. “I was in the neighborhood. I’m looking after Leo, Declan, and Ash’s houses while they’re gone. I thought you might like something to eat that wasn’t fried in vegetable oil.”

She disappears out of view. Now in addition to being interrupted, I feel like a jerk. I try to get back to my workout, but I can hear her moving around in my house. What is she doing?!

I like Everly more than I like the average person, but at this moment I can’t remember why.

I continue to stew as I watch the miles on my bike increase. Eventually, I must get into a frustration-fueled haze because when I stop, I can’t hear her anymore. Good. Maybe she left.

I ignore the twinge of guilt for running her off. She doesn’t want to be around me right now. Can’t she see that I need space to recover on my own? If she’s smart, she’ll stay the hell away from me and enjoy her last summer of carefree fun.

Everly just finished college and has an internship waiting for her at the end of the summer. Her brother Tyler can’t stop talking about it. He’s so proud of his younger sister. And for all the hell she caused him when she was younger, I guess I understand why.

In the kitchen I eye the white bag, then peek inside. My stomach growls at the sight of a salad. I might have had one too many cheeseburgers in the past week if my body is now craving lettuce.

I’m about to pull out the container when movement catches my eye. Everly’s steps come up short when she spots me. She’s changed into a swimsuit—some tiny black thing that barely covers her. My mouth goes dry and heat courses through me.

Woah, buddy. Eyes up. Moving my gaze to her face and reminding myself that she’s my teammate’s little sister doesn’t seem to help. It’s been more than a month since I’ve seen a woman naked and suddenly, I am thinking that’s one day too many.

It isn’t like I didn’t already know she’s a beautiful woman. Ev is gorgeous. She has a heart-shaped face, pouty lips, and these big, expressive hazel eyes. She’s average height, but still feels tiny next to me. Her legs are long and toned and if I had ever looked at her boobs—which I definitely haven’t—I’d know they are nice and perky.

Sometime over the past year I looked at her and realized all this. Objectively, she’s stunning.

But hooking up with a teammate’s sister is completely off-limits. Hell, I wouldn’t even sleep with someone’s cousin. It’s too messy. My loyalty is to my teammates and besides, I’m not that hard up for attention.

Except lately I’ve been screening every text or call, including those wanting to help make me feel better with a quick fuck. Let me tell you how much I want some chick looking to score with Jack Wyld, hockey captain, to see me in this condition. Hell, I’m not even sure I could give them the good, hard dicking they’d be expecting. If my workout today was any indication, I’d be huffing and puffing and asking them to watch out for my bad leg while trying not to accidentally bang them in the head with the cast on my arm. No fucking thanks.

She arches a brow, reminding me that I’m still staring at her.

“Thank you for the food.”

Surprise plays over her features. “Wow. He speaks without growling at me.”

Her taunt, of course, makes me want to growl at her. My leg is tired though, so instead I pull out a chair and take a seat. Everly watches me so closely my skin feels tight.

“How are you doing?” she asks, a touch brighter and without the snark.

“Here to check in and report back to Bridget?”

“No.” She comes closer, stopping a foot away where I can smell the coconut-scented sunscreen on her skin. “I told Bridget I was staying out of it from now on.”

That would explain why Ash texted me five times already today.

“I don’t need anyone to check in on me. I’m⁠—”

“Fine?” she asks, a smirk on her sexy mouth. “Don’t need anyone’s help? Want to be left alone?”

Yes, to all those things.

“I don’t want them worrying about me. We only get a few months off the entire year. The other nine months are a grind of nonstop hard work and time away from families and loved ones. They deserve this time to relax and unwind.”

“That’s stupid. They care about you. They’re your friends. Of course, they’re going to worry.”

She digs into the bag and pulls out two containers, then hands me one. She walks through my kitchen and directly to the silverware drawer. Grabbing two forks, she brings them over and sets one in front of me. The familiarity she has with my house speaks some truth to her words. They are my friends. And by extension, she is too. I’m not ready to invite everyone over and make small talk, but I can have lunch with Everly. One lunch, then maybe she’ll be satisfied that I don’t need her either.

Except…

“Did you clean in here?”

Her cheeks take on the slightest hint of pink. “I threw out the moldy shake, yes.”

“I would have gotten around to it.”

She says nothing, which is almost more aggravating than her sass.

We eat in silence. I devour mine, really. Breakfast this morning was toast and a protein shake. I need to get some groceries. I could also tell my chef that I changed my mind and need some meals prepared and ready to go, but he was so excited about having the summer off that taking that back now feels shitty. What the hell did I think I was going to eat? I haven’t cooked for myself in years and suddenly taking up the hobby when I can barely move around without breaking a sweat, seems like the worst possible idea.

“I made cookies too,” she says, abandoning her salad to walk over to a big, beach bag looking duffel next to the back door. She leans over and I’m once again averting my eyes from the way the black material stretches over her chest, gaping in the middle. Not that it helps. I need a cold shower and a few minutes to myself.

Everly returns, that sweet scent following her. Somewhere between being annoyed that she was here and trying not to ogle her, I didn’t consider why she was in a swimsuit to begin with.

She drops a container of cookies in front of me. Sugar cookies. Coincidence that it’s my favorite? Probably not. A slow trickle of unease works its way down my spine.

“Why are you here, Everly?”

“I told you, I was in the neighborhood.”

“Uh-huh.” I point to her tits. This time I don’t even bother not looking. “Did you walk around Declan’s house in that?”

She looks down at herself.

“It was underneath my other clothes,” she says slowly like she’s trying to understand.

“Why are you here?”

Her face takes on a slight blush. “You have that great pool and you won’t even know I’m here.”

Impossible.

“I don’t want your pity lunch or your bribery cookies.” I push the container toward her.

“Oh my god.” She rolls her eyes, and her lips curve up into a smile. “Stop being so dramatic.”

“I told you, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“Really?” she asks. Both hands go to her hips. It’d be less distracting if she weren’t mostly naked. “Because you look like shit and this place is a mess.”

I motion with both hands toward my leg.

“I know. I know.” She throws up her hands. And she says I’m the dramatic one? She lets out a long breath. “I don’t mean to keep yelling at you, but god, you’re frustrating.”

“Right back at ya.” I take the cookies back and retrieve two from the container. I deserve them for this conversation alone.

Her voice is softer when she speaks this time. “You need help whether you like it or not. And I need access to the best pool in the city.

I huff a short laugh.

“It’s just lunch. For all the things you’ve done for me over the years, I’d say we are many many lunches away from us being even.”

I bite into a cookie as I think about it. I don’t want her here, but she’s stubborn and hard-headed, and this was the best lunch I’ve had in weeks.

“Fine. You can use the pool.”

She squeals and jumps around, reminding me that she’s ten years younger than me. It doesn’t help that I feel about fifty years old right now.

“Just for today,” I add.

Her head nods quickly and she smiles at me happily before stuffing another forkful of salad into her mouth.

“No reporting back to Bridget or anyone else,” I say pointedly.

She continues to nod away. Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?

“And I’m taking the rest of these.” I grab the cookies, stand, and start my slow hobble to the couch.


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