“What?”
He laughed. “Aruba, baby. I have five days off. It’s our bye week. Lots of guys are going away, taking their kids to Disney World, some of the single guys are going to Cancun. I thought it would be cool for you and me to go away. It’s four nights.”
“Oh my God, that’s crazy!”
“Yeah, it kind of is. But why not? I have the time off. You don’t have anything keeping you here. Right?”
“Riiiight…” She was thinking about it, obviously. “Okay! I can’t believe we’re doing this!”
My smile just about split my face. “Don’t ever say I don’t give good date.”
“You give the best date. What do I need to do?”
“Nothing. I’ll take care of it all.”
“This is crazy. I love it.”
“Good.”
Christ, I couldn’t wait to get her all to myself in a hotel room for four nights. This was going to be epic.
“You looked like you hurt yourself in the game last night.”
I froze. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cool glass of the window. “I’m fine. Tweaked my wrist a bit.” I was lying. When I’d taken that wrist shot last night, something had snapped in my wrist. It had hurt like a motherfucker. It had been better since that cortisone injection, until last night. They’d taped me up and I’d finished the game, but with less motion and pain in my wrist, I’d played shitty.
Again.
Now they were sending me for an MRI to see if there was something that hadn’t shown up on the X-ray. And another cortisone shot.
“You didn’t look fine. I was worried about you.”
“Things like that happen all the time during a game.”
Her silence told me she was unconvinced.
“I play again tomorrow night,” I said. “Then I have five days off. As long as you don’t make me carry you around, a few days’ rest will be good for my wrist and I’ll be fine.”
“I think I’ll be able to manage walking.”
I grinned. “We’re good then.”
“Where are we staying there? I want to look it up.”
I gave her the name of the resort. “I’ll pick you up Tuesday morning at seven. Bring some things to keep you occupied on the flight. And warm-weather clothes in your carry-on. You can change on the flight there.”
After we were done talking, I set down my phone and held out my arm. I rotated my wrist. It was fine. Fucking weird. Hopefully it would stay fine for the game tomorrow. This sucked so bad, never knowing when it was going to hurt, affecting my play.
It took a lot of joy out of playing hockey, something I’d loved nearly my whole life. Which dragged my mood down even more. Hockey was my life. If I didn’t enjoy playing it anymore, what would be left for me?
Jesus. That was really depressing. I’d be fucking nobody without hockey.
I rubbed my face. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to me. I was a top draft pick. I knew I had the talent to be a top player in the league. I hated this feeling of being helpless. Anger flared hot in my gut. I had to get control of myself and not let this take over my life.
I inhaled a deep breath and held it. What I’d said to Jordyn was true…five days off would help. After some R&R in the Caribbean sun, I’d be good as new by the time we got back Saturday night.
* * *
—
Jordyn’s condo was cute and funky, like her. The building might have been old, but her unit had been all renovated. It was a lot smaller than my place, but it was cozier. I liked the black lacquered doors and the zebra-print chair with gold arms in the small foyer. In the living room, the rug on the floor was charcoal gray with white stars, the furniture a combination of a new comfortable-looking gray sofa and loveseat, and antiques including two more zebra chairs, a brass and glass coffee table, and an oak dresser loaded with framed pictures. In the far corner of the room near the window sat a black grand piano.
She rolled a massive suitcase down the chocolate brown hardwood floor of the hall toward the foyer. I eyed it doubtfully. “You know we’re only going for four nights.”
“I know.” She gave a sheepish smile. “I have a hard time packing light.”
“I told you all you have to bring is bikinis.”
“Phht. I went online and that resort is really fancy. You have to dress up for dinner. So I have some cute sundresses. And cover-ups. And some shorts. And shoes.”
“Okay.” I held up a hand. “It’s fine.” I shook my head, amused. She was cute. Today she looked different. She had on some eye makeup, but not the smoky eye shadow she usually did, and she looked soft and vulnerable. “So you’re ready?”
“Yes!” She bounced. “All set.”
“Okay, let’s make like a baby and head out.” I opened the door and rolled her suitcase into the hall.
She giggled as she followed me. Then she paused. “Ah, shit. I don’t know what I did with my keys.” She turned in a circle.
I couldn’t help with that, so I stepped back into the doorway and waited for her. After a few increasingly frantic minutes of searching, she finally located them in her purse.
“Why did I put them in there?” she asked. “Oh well.”
We were halfway to the elevator when she stopped again. “Wait! I forgot my phone.”
“You won’t need it.”
“Yes, I will! I can’t go without my phone!” You’d think I was depriving her of oxygen. “Hang on.” She hurried back to her condo and let herself in.
I knew she wasn’t a stereotypical dumb blonde so her brief moments of flakiness and drama only amused me. In truth, just being around her with her bright smile and bubbling energy lifted my mood, which had lately been getting lower and lower.
Finally, we were in the elevator riding down to the main floor. We crossed the elegant lobby with oak and leather furniture and tin panel ceiling. The doorman held the brass doors for us, and I heaved her suitcase into my car.
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this.” She beamed a smile at me from beneath her sunglasses. The sun was bright in Chicago today, but it would be a helluva lot warmer in Aruba.
“Believe it.” Once again, I loved that I’d made her happy. This had been a genius idea. And maybe Jordyn and I would soon be having cake by the ocean. Daaaamn. The thought of having her all to myself for the next five days—four nights—sleeping in the same bed, made things stir in my southern region.
Chicago Executive Airport was a bit of a drive, but we listened to music and talked about all kinds of things. Then we were crossing the tarmac and boarding the private Cessna I’d chartered.
“This is insane,” Jordyn said. “I can’t believe you chartered a private flight.”
“I checked commercial flights, but there’s not much that’s direct from Chicago, and I didn’t want to waste precious time sitting in an airport in Atlanta.” I wanted her in a bikini with my hands on her applying sunscreen ASAP. And cake. By the ocean. “Plus it’s private. No fans stalking you.”
She rolled her eyes, then surveyed the interior of the small plane as we settled into seats facing each other across a small table. A basket of snacks sat on the table. The plane held eight passengers, but we were alone. The pilot and co-pilot were checking the instruments up front.
“I hate to think about how much this cost,” Jordyn said.
“Don’t think about it.” I winked at her. “It didn’t cost as much as my car.”
She nodded with wide eyes.
She was a famous musician so I assumed she had money too. But it was cool that she wasn’t all blasé about it.
Sitting on a plane for five hours wasn’t my favorite thing to do. I liked to be moving. But I’d brought a couple of books to read, a Michael Crichton and one by an author I’d never heard of that looked good. We watched a movie on my tablet, and Jordyn read on her Kindle for part of the journey. I considered sex, but that would be awkward if we got caught.
As we neared our destination, I said, “Do you want to change?”