The bastard won’t apologize because it’s just not him. It’s not me, either. He’s my friend, though, and I know he didn’t set me off on purpose.
Me: Yeah
Tuck: Heard you’re going out with Hampton’s daughter tonight…wtf, dude?
Me: Yeah
Tuck: Soon as u piss her off you’ll be in deep shit with Daddy. U know that, right?
Me: Yeah
I don’t tell him I’m already in deep shit with Daddy. My plan is to convince Hailey I’m not her type. Hopefully tonight will do it.
I scroll through my phone until I fall asleep on the couch. When I wake up, it’s five-thirty—only thirty minutes until I’m supposed to meet Hailey. I take my time, though.
It’s almost six-fifteen when I walk into the bar I’m meeting her at. It’s on the other side of the city from Lucky’s, where Miranda works, but I still think of her when I see the rows of alcohol lined up behind the bar. She must get hit on nonstop at that job. I don’t like the thought.
“Jake!” Hailey squeals, sliding down from the tall chair she’s sitting on. She crushes her body against mine in a hug and I tense. “I missed you.”
“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair and sit down on the other chair.
She’s wearing a low-cut dress and way too much makeup. I see her mouth moving, but I have no idea what she’s saying. I’m too focused on how much I don’t want to be here.
“I mean, right?” she says, giggling.
“Listen, I have to cut out around eight-thirty tonight because I have a conditioning day tomorrow and I need to get to bed.”
“Oh.” Her expression falls. “Well…okay. I thought we’d go meet up with some of my friends for dinner.”
“Ah…maybe another time. There’s a place a block away with great pasta. I like to eat pasta before conditioning.”
“Sure. And, Jake…” She pushes her chest out toward me a little. “I can help you condition anytime. You know, work up a sweat.”
My dick is as limp as a dishrag. There’s nothing hot about a woman who whines to Daddy until she gets what she wants. Doesn’t she realize I’m only here because I have to be?
My thoughts drift to Miranda, and the way she smiled at me last night. It wasn’t a full-on, Julia Roberts kind of smile, but it was a smile for me, and it was a start. I hope I didn’t ruin my chances with her by storming out of the bar like I did.
“You ready for dinner?” I ask Hailey.
She nods and drains the rest of her drink. I leave money on the table for it and we walk down the block to the Italian place.
Hailey knows her hockey, which doesn’t surprise me since her father owns an NHL team. Once she starts talking about our season and the depth on our team, I’m finally able to carry on a conversation with her. There’s nothing else I’m interested in talking about with her, though.
I’m relieved when I check my phone and see that it’s 8:27. Close enough to 8:30 for me.
“I need to go,” I say, standing up from my seat at the table.
“Oh. I cabbed it here, can you give me a ride home?”
“I would, but I took a cab myself.”
Her expression turns coy. “Share a cab?”
“Uh…I’m at the Dupont, so…”
“I love that place.”
She’s fishing for an invite back to my room, but it’s not happening.
“So I’ll see you around.” I give her a tight smile.
“I had fun. Text me.”
For a split second, I almost feel sorry for her. I want to tell her she should be spending time with a guy who’s really into her instead of with me. But I’m walking a tightrope, and I can’t risk telling her how I actually feel.
Back at the Dupont, I watch an action movie and my thoughts drift to Miranda again. I wonder what she’s doing and wish I had her number.
I was telling Hailey the truth about tomorrow—I am conditioning. And then Monday morning I’m flying to Winnipeg for a game. I’ll be out of here before Miranda comes.
I can’t stand the thought of not seeing her again until Tuesday. I’ll have to go back to Dennis, who works in the Dupont’s restaurant. For twenty bucks, he told me Miranda works at Lucky’s every Friday night. I’m willing to pay more to get her number.
Chapter 8
Miranda
When I find Jake’s suite empty Monday morning, I’m actually disappointed.
My disappointment grows when I see that he hasn’t even been here since the room was cleaned Sunday morning. The place is spotless, the bed still made and vacuum lines visible on the carpet.
If he didn’t sleep here, he slept somewhere else. With someone else.
It shouldn’t surprise me. He probably spent the weekend shacked up with a random hookup.
I thought about him over the weekend. I can’t stop wondering who Dustin is and why Jake’s mother was with Jake when he died. It’s obviously something painful to him.
My parents live four hours downstate, but Paige and I usually see them once a month. They mean the world to us, quirks and all. I can’t imagine not speaking to them.
I turn on the bathroom light and glance inside to make sure it’s clean. There are some used towels in the corner. I walk in to get them.
This bathroom is larger than my bedroom. It has a massive garden tub, a walk-in shower that could easily fit six people, two sinks, a flat-screen TV and a separate room for the toilet.