Watch Your Mouth: A Brother’s Best Friend Hockey Romance (Kings of the Ice)

Watch Your Mouth: Chapter 8



Grace

After a quick bath, I wrapped myself in the plush robe the hotel provided and sat at the vanity, applying moisturizer to my face. At the same time, I swiped a thumb across my phone screen and tapped my mom’s contact from my favorites list, working the cream into my skin as the phone rang.

I’d sent a text to Vince just letting him know I was okay, which was about all he needed from me. He shot back a quick thumbs up emoji that told me he’d already moved on, assuming I was fine and handling myself. It was a fair assumption, since I’d been doing that since we were kids. I liked that he had faith in my strength as much as I disliked that I had to have it.

My brother would be there for me if I ever told him I needed him.

Sometimes, I just wish he could see that I needed him without being told.

“Hello, Gracie,” Mom answered, a little breathless. “Everything alright?”

My chest deflated at the greeting.

To anyone else, it would have seemed like a mother answering her daughter’s call with concern for her well-being.

But for me, I knew this was her way of quickly getting a pulse check on what kind of call this was. Because if I was okay, if I didn’t need anything — she was busy.

“Everything’s fine, Mom,” I assured her. “Just checking in to let you know I’m in Atlanta.”

“Oh! How fun! What are you doing there?” I could hear the distraction in her voice, the way you know someone isn’t fully listening.

“Trying out for a circus.”

“With your balance? Not the best idea.”

I smirked a little, glad she was at least somewhat paying attention.

“You sure you’re okay?”

I sighed. “Yeah.”

“Good. Well, I hate to rush off the phone, but your father and I are heading out the door to go to dinner with the Marpets. They just bought a new Ferretti and want to take us out for a spin on the lake.”

Only my parents would be casually going to dinner on their friends’ new yacht.

“Oh! Will we see you at Vince’s tournament in a few days?”

My stomach soured a bit as I swallowed. “Tournament?”

“He’s doing a charity golf tournament in St. Louis. I thought maybe he would have told you about it. Anyway, we’ll be there! We’re happy to fly you in, if you’d like. And we can get you a room!”

This must have been the tournament Jaxson was playing in, too.

“I’ll be there,” I assured her. “But don’t worry about the flights. I’m…” I decided less was more in the case of details at the present moment. “I already have it taken care of.”

“Okay, my little adventurer. See you then. We’re wearing our Ospreys t-shirts if you want to match!”

I didn’t bother trying to not roll my eyes then, and with a kissy noise, Mom ended the call.

I sat there staring at myself in the mirror for a long moment.

She’d asked if I was okay, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she probably didn’t actually care. I’d told her about the breakup when I was on my way to Vince’s house, and she’d only half-listened to me then, too, it seemed.

She’d forgotten about it already, not even asking about Trent on the phone even though I’d dated him for months.

I snorted at the term date, because it felt like I’d been living in a false reality. To me, we were dating. But to him?

We were nothing.

I growled in annoyance at myself. I didn’t even care. He was a smelly nomad with long hair who charmed me with his late-night thoughts on the universe. I didn’t even feel that sad about losing him, specifically.

I was just sad that I was so easy to toss aside.

And, if I was being honest, I couldn’t help but compare my mom’s reaction to my heartbreak to the way she and Dad had fawned over Maven after meeting her for the first time. She and Vince weren’t even together, and yet my parents were invested, probably planning a wedding well before there was an engagement even announced.

If they had broken up, my parents would have flown into Tampa and fussed over Vince, doing everything they could to fix the situation.

With me, it was almost as if they expected it.

Something sour bubbled in my stomach, something that felt a lot like it would pull me under the shadow of sadness if I let it. So, I snuffed it out before it had the chance.

Planting my hands on the vanity, I stood, shaking my head. “That’s enough of that,” I declared out loud, smiling at myself in the mirror. “Look around you, Grace. You’re in a Five-Star hotel in one of the liveliest cities in the South. You’re twenty-two years old, have money in your pocket, and don’t have a single thing tying you down.” I locked eyes with myself in the mirror, ignoring how much of my mother I saw in that reflection. “Tonight is not a night to mope around. It’s a night to make new friends, to make new memories, to live.”

I inhaled a deep breath and the resolve that came with those words, and then I hurriedly got dressed, picking one of my slightly nicer sundresses and my less-beat-up sandals from my suitcase. My hair was still damp as I ran my hands through it and tried to give it a little volume at the top. Then, I slid my hotel key card into my clutch and bolted for the door.

The hallway was empty, and I looked down at the time on my phone, noting that it had been an hour. I tried to ignore the zing of disappointment in my chest as I wobbled up onto my toes and back down to my heels, looking down the hall at where Jaxson’s door was.

I waited four minutes before I straightened my back and made my way to the elevator.

It doesn’t matter, I assured myself. And honestly, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Jaxson Brittain was a grown ass man. I was shocked he’d dropped everything to take this trip with me. He likely only did it because he was the kind of guy to help everyone around him, the kind who’d give the shirt off his own back if it meant helping someone else out.

Or maybe he was just bored.

My chest was buckling under the pressure of the night when I stepped inside the elevator, and I soothed my rib cage with my fingertips, forcing a calm breath. I was already working out the words I’d say to Jaxson in the morning, how I could cut this trip short and set him free of whatever obligation he felt like he had to me.

But before the doors could shut, a hand shot out to stop them — along with my warring thoughts.

And Jaxson stepped into the frame.

Where I had very clearly just showered and thrown on the first thing I found in my suitcase, he looked like he’d had a professional tailor come up to his room to dress him for the night.

His hair was styled neatly, his short beard freshly trimmed, and he’d traded in the athletic shorts and Ospreys shirt for an olive-green Henley and cream dress slacks fastened to his waist with a belt. He’d shoved the sleeves of that Henley up to his elbows, his tattoos snaking out from under the fabric, and when he stepped inside the elevator, he twisted just enough to give me a view of his sculpted ass in those slacks.

And I understood instantly why he wore a belt, because his waist was narrow, but his ass was rock solid and big enough that I knew those pants had to be custom made to fit it — along with his tree-trunk thighs.

Fuck.

He was so hot it should have been a crime.

Jaxson arched a brow at me as he sidled up at my side, his hands casually sliding into his pockets. “You were just going to leave me behind, huh?”

My stomach fluttered with him looking at me like that, and now my mind was whirring with a completely different train of thought.

“You were late,” I teased, lifting my chin.

“And if you were late, you would have been fine with me not waiting?”

“Of course not. Didn’t you ever listen to Shania Twain? I can be late for a date,” I said, pointing to my chest. “But you’d better be on time.”

I sang those last words, shimmying my hips even though I knew I was a little out of tune.

“I’m Canadian. Of course, I know that song,” he said. “But this isn’t a date, so I guess I’m in the clear.”

I wanted to keep the joke rolling, but those words hit me harder than I wanted them to — even with Jaxson smiling behind them.

knew it wasn’t a date, but the fact that he was so insistent on reminding me of that little fact had my eyes falling to my feet. I felt like a twelve-year-old again, a little girl crushing on her brother’s friend with absolutely zero hope of him ever feeling the same.

I took only a split second to feel that rejection before I slapped on my happy face, just in time for the elevator doors to open and reveal the bustling second floor.

“Last one to the bar takes a shot!” I said loud enough to make heads swivel in our direction.

Then, I took off in a sprint, laughing at the curse word Jaxson muttered under his breath before he started jogging to catch up.

And I left all my sad girl emotions in my dust — right where they belonged.


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