Game Changer by Kelly Jamieson Page 0,20
any way I can stop myself.” She grins crookedly. “I’ll try.”
“You were going to marry a hockey player. You know you can’t look at all the shit they write about us. And about the WAGs. Especially about the WAGs.” I’ve seen some cruel shit online.
“True.”
“Especially someone as soft-hearted as you.”
“Soft-hearted?” Her eyes widen. “Me?”
I laugh. “Yeah, you. You cry at any TV commercial with a dog in it.”
“I do not.”
“Yeah, you do. It’s not an insult. But…”
“What?” She eyes me with eyes as big as hockey pucks.
“It’s easier to get hurt when your heart is all squashy.”
She snorts. “Squashy-hearted. Got it.” Then she lets out a short puff of air. “I may have been squashy-hearted in the past, but no more. I’m never going to let a man fool me or take advantage of me again.”
I don’t believe in love and marriage either, but it makes me a little sad hearing her say that. She’s always so happy and vibrant, and I hate to think that Chucky’s bullshit has turned her off men and relationships. Because she’s made for love and commitment and probably a family. I, on the other hand, am not.
I take a gulp of tequila, which slides warmly down my esophagus.
“So, what’s up tomorrow?” Molly changes the subject.
“I’m going to go to Grandpa and Chelsea’s place. I want to find out what’s happening medically. How he’s managing.”
“Checking up on Chelsea?”
“Well, yeah.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you have to worry. She’s pretty attentive to him. I think she cares. And…I think this is really hard on her.”
“You decided that in a few hours?”
She tosses her hair back. “You know I’m always right about stuff.”
One corner of my mouth lifts. That is true. “Well, I guess I’ll see.”
“What about your dad?”
“Eh.” I gaze into my amber drink. “I’ll see him at some point.”
When she says nothing, I look up at her. She’s regarding me with her head tilted, lips pursed. “What’s that about?”
“What?”
“You and your dad.” Then she nibbles her bottom lip. “Sorry. Not my business, I guess.”
“My dad and I have never been close. He and my mom split up when I was fifteen. He left Winnipeg and took a job in Hershey, Pennsylvania. My mom and my sister Riley and I stayed. We didn’t see much of him after that.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
I hitch one shoulder. “Not a big deal. Lots of couples divorce these days.”
“Then why do you seem like you hate him?”
“I don’t hate him.”
“Okay. Sure.” She eyes me and clearly recognizes this isn’t something I’m eager to talk about. Turning her head to survey the lounge, she says, “This resort is way nicer than I expected.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty good. We should go for a walk, explore the grounds.”
“Okay.”
So after we finish our drinks, we do that. The night air is fresh and calm, carrying the scent of the ocean. The rustle of palm fronds above us is the only sound as we stroll a dark path past bungalows, around a wing of the hotel, and into one of the pool areas.
“Oh my gosh, this is amazing!” Molly gawks at the luxurious pool with cabanas and loungers. The pool glows turquoise in the dark, the water still. “I can’t wait to get down here tomorrow!”
“That’s your plan, huh?”
“Hell yeah.”
I chuckle.
“I’ll need to buy some sunscreen,” she adds.
“Pretty sure they’ll have that in that shop in the lobby.”
We keep walking. The dark sky is streaked with pale blue clouds. We follow a path to the edge of the bluff and gaze out over the navy ocean. The muted rumble of waves onto the shore carries on the ocean breeze.
Molly lets out a soft sigh.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yes. Suddenly I’m exhausted.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot. Want to head back to the room?”
“Yeah.”
Great. The room we’re sharing. That’s not going to be awkward at all.
Now I’m tense.
We’ve circled back to the front entrance of the hotel and enter the lobby, cross to the elevators and ride up to the fourth floor. The air in the elevator is thick. I try not to look at Molly, and I get the feeling she’s doing the same.
In the room, I flick on a light.
Molly walks over to the dresser and pulls out some clothing, pajamas, I guess. She looks directly at me. “I’ll sleep on the lounge,” she says.
I eye it doubtfully. “I don’t think it’s going to be long enough.”
“I’ll make it work. I just need one of the pillows. Since there are about ten on that