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Hooked by Love (Bellevue Bullies #3) by Toni Aleo (23)

Ugh. Why?

How is it already four in the morning?

Fuck me.

My head is pounding.

I feel like I’m going to blow chunks, and I have to go serve coffee.

But I’d much rather stay here with her.

Damn it.

Nuzzling closer to Avery, I take in a deep inhale, the smell of her shampoo making me smile as my arms come around her waist, bringing her closer. Tucking her hands up underneath my chin, she murmurs something unintelligible and I just feel…complete. Whole, even. This girl, man…she really has me in all kinds of ways. I’m completely taken by her, and after last night, I know I should be ecstatic and feel on top of the world.

But I can’t.

Not fully.

Mostly because I’m unsure about it all. I want to believe she was ready, that she wants this. But deep in my gut, I’m worried. Did she did just say that because of what happened when we were getting down? And what was that about? I don’t understand her issues with the lights being on, but it would be great if she could let me in on that. I mean, I know I need to respect her wishes, and I will—that’s not the problem. I just wish I knew why.

I feel like everything is up in the air because of it, and it’s fucking with me.

Add in the fact I’m hungover and got no sleep last night, and I’m pretty sure today is going to suck.

Which is bad because it’s the practice before our game and Coach won’t go easy on us. Tomorrow’s skate will be laid-back, but today, he’ll be drilling us. I kind of regret taking this job at the coffee shop. Maybe I should just chill and let my dad do everything. I mean, it could be so easy. Don’t I, as a nineteen-year-old, get that right? I’m still a kid, aren’t I? Shit, but I know that isn’t right. If I want to be a man like my brothers, I have to follow in their footsteps. They worked for what they wanted. Well, Jude really didn’t have to, but he is now. Shit, that reminds me. I gotta call Jude and Jayden.

Well, fuck me.

As I kiss Avery’s head, she snuggles against my lips and I smile. “Baby, I gotta go.”

“Why?” she whispers, her eyes still closed.

“Gotta work and practice. But stay here, sleep until you need to leave.”

“Okay, thanks,” she says before puckering her lips. She’s so damn cute, and man, I hope she really means what she said last night. That she does want me as her boyfriend. That leaving Javery in the dust is something she is dying for too.

That maybe she loves me.

Shit, why did I think that!

I don’t even love her…

Ugh.

Unaware of my internal battle, she leans toward me and presses her lips to mine. Kissing her is really what I’m starting to believe is my purpose in life. It’s just so natural, like our lips were made to press together and be one. Even sleepy kisses are my favorite. Hell, anything she does is my favorite.

Moving my nose along hers, I say, “Text me when you wake up.”

“’kay,” she says. I drink her in for another moment as my heart prays she isn’t going to break me. Because, if she wakes up and realizes she made a mistake last night, I just might lose it. I’m ready for this, and I need her to be too. It’s time. Yeah, it’s only been two weeks, but it’s been intense and we have basically been in a committed relationship. She just doesn’t want to label it. Annoying as hell, but hopefully that has changed. We may have been drunk, but I remember everything that happened last night and I hope she does too.

Pushing the blankets off me, I sit up and glance back at her once more. She looks so peaceful, so sweet lying there, her hair a mess along my pillow, her lips parted, and her lashes kissing her cheeks. Along her neck are red spots from our lovemaking last night, and while I hate that I blemished her gorgeous skin, they give me a certain kind of rush.

She’s mine.

And everyone will see that.

Pulling my gaze from her, I go to get off the bed, but I pause when little, straight lines on her thighs catch my gaze. There have to be hundreds of them, dark ones, thick ones, faded ones. Like cuts. I don’t know how they could have happened because of the way they’re shaped, and they aren’t marks made by stitches. Only thin cuts, long ones too. They had to be made with a knife or something. They’re just odd. When she moves her legs, rolling over, I look away to get down from the bed, my heart causing havoc in my chest.

When my feet hit the floor, I’m unable to breathe.

I’m pretty sure that’s why she doesn’t like the lights on when we have sex.

Which means she’s embarrassed by them.

Swallowing hard, I don’t want to think it, but…

No. She couldn’t have done that to herself.

Could she?

 

 

For the rest of the morning, I can’t stop thinking about what I saw.

Work is a blur, and when I hit the ice, I feel like I’m not even there.

That is until Bryan, our big defender, takes me into the boards.

With an umpff, I come off the boards, falling to my knees before getting back up and chasing the puck. It was my fault I got hit like that. I had my head down because I was too busy thinking about Avery. Dumb-ass mistake. Digging in, I make it to the other end within seconds—the joys of being the fastest skater on the team—and block a shot before controlling the puck with my stick. Looking up, I see Markus hauling ass up the middle, and I send the puck quick to him. With ease, he goes five-hole, scoring.

That should have been me. Instead, I was too caught up on what I saw. I’ve gone through every single scenario I could. She was attacked by a beaver or a raccoon? Or maybe a cat! But why between her thighs? Then I think maybe she was raped. But that doesn’t feel right because, if that were the case, I wouldn’t think she would be so into sex now. Baylor was almost raped earlier this year, and she didn’t have sex with Jayden for months; she even had to go to counseling for it. But maybe Avery has gone to counseling, and it happened a long time ago? But what did the sicko do? Cut her up?

It just doesn’t make sense, and it’s driving me mad.

I go to back to the end of the line, and Markus meets me there, tapping my shin with his stick. “Great pass.”

I nod. “Great shot.”

He grins at me, but I don’t return it. I want this to be over so I can go find her. But what am I going to say? Do I just ask her? Will she shut down on me or freak out? Fuck, it’s driving me batshit and also scaring the shit out of me.

“What’s got you all messed up? Since you locked me out of my room, I’m sure you got laid. You shouldn’t be looking like I just took your spot in the draft.”

I snort. “Please. Won’t happen.”

Markus laughs. “Just sayin’. You look like shit.”

“Hungover.”

“No, that’s not it.” I feel him eyeing me. I don’t know how to tell him this, though. Or if I should. It’s no one’s business, not even mine, but I saw it and I don’t know what to do. I need someone to guide me, but I don’t want him knowing that about Avery. Whatever it is.

“What’s up? She break up with you? Or, wait, un-Javery you? Stupid shit.”

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “No, we’re together now. No more Javery.”

“Thank God,” he moans. “That shit was wack.”

I smile as I watch the next play go. We are cleaning up our game, and I really think we have a chance at the cup this year. We are playing some major teams this year since we moved up into the Big Ten, but I’m ready. I may be nervous, but I’m confident in my team. We’ve got this.

If I can get my head out of my ass and focus.

“Sinclair, I blew the whistle twice!” Coach yells and I look over at him, confused.

“Sorry,” I say as he blows it again and then sends the puck over to me. Taking it, I carry it up, Markus right beside me as we cross the blue line and Gordon digs in to crash the net. Going in with him, I pass it to Markus, who sends it back to Drake. He shoots it, hard, and it whizzes by, hitting Trevor, our goalie, in the chest before rebounding onto Gordon’s stick. He shoots, but it hits the crossbar, coming back to me just as I skate up. Taking it, I pass the puck behind me since I don’t have the shot. But I know Markus does, and it sails right over Trevor’s shoulder.

“Great job!” Coach yells out as I hit my glove to Markus’s. “Okay, everyone. Laps.”

Some groan, but I honestly need to clear my head, and I take the laps as a blessing. As I drift across the ice, I still can’t shake the feeling she only said she wanted to be my girlfriend to keep me from seeing what she was hiding. And that makes me mad. But then, what reasons do I have for that? Am I just jumping to conclusions because I’m confused and worried? How is that helping anything? I need to talk to her, but something about that makes me nervous. She is locked so tight about everything, what will happen if I pry?

Will she call it off?

Fuck, I don’t want that.

But I can’t sit here with this dread in my stomach, hoping she is okay. She always says I won’t understand. And yeah, I don’t understand how she could hurt herself. But if she explained it, maybe I could. Man, what the hell is going on? I just feel sick, and it isn’t from the night of drinking. It’s from being worried sick about her. I don’t want her to hurt.

Digging in, I finish my laps quickly, wanting to get off the ice to shower. I’m the first one done, and while I’m anxious to escape the ice, I know I can’t. I have to push my team, and soon I’m skating with our slowest lapper, Drake.

“You can go, bro,” he says like he always does, but I shake my head.

“Nope, I’m with you to win it.”

He gives me a sheepish grin, and then we are skating in silence. He is a quiet guy, and Lord knows I don’t want to talk right now. As we skate, Coach leans against the board, watching as Drake slows a bit. I can tell he’s getting tired, but I tap his shin.

“Two more.”

“This sucks,” he complains and I nod.

“For sure, but come on.”

He finishes, barely, before heading off the ice. Before I can follow him, though, Coach stops me. “Sinclair.”

I pause, closing the rink door before taking my glove off to unhook my helmet. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

I nod, pushing my cage up. I look down at my skates, acting as if I’m kicking the ice from them. “Yeah.” It’s still hard to look in this guy’s eyes, but it’s getting better, I think. I hope.

“You seem a little distracted.”

“Yeah, a lot on my mind.”

He nods. “Yeah, Autumn told me your dad is coming to the game.”

I swallow loudly as I pull off my helmet, shaking my hair out. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay with that?”

I shrug. “Yeah, he’s my dad.”

I can tell he wants to say more. Instead, he looks away, clearing his throat. “Okay, well, whatever is distracting you, let it go. You are my leader, my captain for this team. I need you to be on your game, especially with the scouts being here. I’ve been putting in good words for you with all my buddies.”

I smile. “I’ll be one hundred percent. No worries. And thanks a lot, Coach.”

He grins. “You know you can call me River off ice, if you want.”

I jerk my gaze to him, my eyes wide. “No way.”

He laughs. “Too much?”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Even if you marry my mom, you will still be Coach, Coach.”

Jesus, why did I say that? Soon, I’m gagging. I try to hide it, but he laughs harder. “Good to know.”

“Yeah, can I leave now?”

Shaking his head, he asks, “Is this how it’s gonna be between us? You being all weird around me?”

I scrunch my nose up. “You’re dating my mom. It’s weird.”

Rolling his eyes, he grins. “Fine. Go.”

“See ya,” I say, running away as fast as my skates allow me. I really need to accept what is going on between him and my mom, but I’m finding that harder than it probably should be. If she’s happy, I should be… And not want to blow chunks at the thought of him with her.

Ew.

Hitting the showers, I joke with the guys before getting dressed. Coach was right. I am the leader, and I can’t let outside shit mess with me. When I’m on the ice, that’s it. Hockey is the only thing I need to think about, and that’s final.

I just wish I believed I can do what I say.

Because all I can do is think of her.

Worry about her.

“Hey, Sinclair, how many goals you gonna get this year?” someone calls to me. I don’t see who since I’m looking at my Facebook.

Grinning, I look up as Markus says, “Doesn’t matter. I’m getting more.”

Punching his thigh, I laugh. “Please, and you know I’m breaking my record.”

That gets a round of razzing before my phone sounds and my heart jumps in my throat, thinking it’s her. I don’t know if I can be cool, act like I didn’t see what I did. But then I see that it’s Jude.

 

Jude: Call me.

 

Closing my eyes, my heart sinks as I wonder if Lucy talked to him. Instead of calling him, I call her.

“Hey, make it quick. I have a client coming in, like, two minutes.”

“Jesus, you’re busy.”

“Hey, you won’t complain when Christmas comes. What’s up?”

I clear my throat. “Did you talk to Jude?”

“No, I was gonna call him after lunch.”

“He just texted me to call him.”

“Then call him.”

I roll my eyes. “Bye, Lucy.”

“Talk to you later.”

She was no help. Staring down at my phone, I know I need to call him, but I really don’t want to. But I need too. Going to his name, I click it and wait as it rings.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, nervousness eating me alive as I slide my shoes on and lock my bag up. “Bye, everyone,” I call to the guys. “You said to call.”

“Yeah,” he says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. “I talked to Mom this morning, and she said Dad is coming to the game tomorrow.”

Shit. Swallowing hard as I push through the doors into the cool breeze, I tuck my hand into my pocket and say, “Yeah, he is.”

“Did you ask him to?”

“No,” I say honestly. “But when he asked, I told him when the game was.”

“So you two are talking like that?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shrug, even though he can’t see me. “I don’t know, Jude. I don’t know what to say here that isn’t gonna have me watching my back from you and Jay.”

“Well, tell the truth, Jace. I don’t get it. I mean, how can you want someone like that in your life?”

I shake my head. “He’s our dad.”

“He was our dad,” he corrects quickly. “He was stripped of that when he decided some whore was more important than us and his wife. When he raised a hand to our mother and then came at us. Did you forget that?”

Closing my eyes, I swallow hard. “No.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Are you really that spoiled that you can’t care for yourself?”

“No, I can. I am, but I feel shitty just cutting him off when he helped me out at the start of the year.”

“But you don’t feel shitty you’re hurting Mom?”

“No, I do, Jude. Come on, man, you know I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I do know that,” he says and then inhales. “I think that’s what I’m so mad about, because you don’t want to hurt anyone. But the thing is, you’re gonna be the one hurt, and all of us are gonna have to watch it. I won’t tell you I told you so because there is no need, you’ll know it. But, man, separate yourself now before it’s too late.”

“Okay,” I say softly, my heart pounding in my chest. “I hear you.”

“Good.”

“I should have called you and told you.”

“You should have. But whatever, it’s fine,” he says offhandedly and shame drowns me. “Just be careful, Jace.”

“I hear you.”

“I told Jayden and he told me to handle it ’cause he was worried he’d say something that really hurts you.”

“Well, thanks,” I say because I know that to be true. Jayden’s temper is something scary, especially when it comes to my dad.

“Okay, I love you. See you tomorrow.”

“Love you, bye.”

Hanging up, I don’t feel better. I know calling Jayden will probably only make me feel worse, but I dial his number anyway.

“Hey,” he barks and my heart drops. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this.

“Listen, I know Jude told you, and I wanted to call and say I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Jace. We’ll deal as a family. He doesn’t matter. All that matters is watching you kick ass.”

I smile because it’s so unlike him to say that when it comes to our dad. He would rather cuss me out than say something like that. “Did Baylor tell you to say that?”

He laughs. “No, Mom.”

That only makes my heart hurt more. “Maybe I should tell him not to come.”

“No point. He’ll come anyway, and Mom doesn’t care. Really. But listen, I’m walking into practice. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Cool. I really am sorry, and I love you.”

I can hear the grin in his voice. “Yeah, you’re lucky I still love you too.”

“I am,” I say and he laughs before saying good-bye. Why don’t I feel better? Pulling my phone from my face, I see a message came through while I was on the phone.

 

Mom: Don’t beat yourself about your dad. I love you more than anything in this world, and I promise I’m not upset. He has nothing over me anymore. My main concern is you, your brothers, Lucy, Angie, and my daughters-in-law. I love you, don’t be upset.

 

I let out a long breath as I shake my head. I know I shouldn’t beat myself up, but I am. I should have told him he couldn’t come.

 

Me: I don’t deserve such a great mom like you.

Mom: I say the same thing about you and your brothers and sister. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have four beautiful children who bring me such joy, but I am. Trust and believe, my love, you deserve the best. So don’t you think at all about what is going on in the stands tomorrow. All you worry about is being the best. Because you are just that, the best damn player ever… Don’t tell your brothers I said that.

Me: Oh no, I am.

Mom: I can still take you over my knee.

Me: Lips are sealed.

Mom: Better. All right, I love you, Jace.

Me: I love you.

 

And while I’m sure that was supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t.

I only feel worse.

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