Read Online One More Shot (Hometown Players #1) by Victoria Denault - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Victoria Denault
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me Jessie is on her way home from work and I’m welcome to wait. I sit in the living room and watch Survivor with Rose, who is obsessed with the show and swears as soon as she’s old enough, she’ll apply to be a contestant.
I can barely pay attention to who is being voted off the island because I’m obsessing over what to say to Jessie when I see her. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since we had sex, and I haven’t said anything to her. I haven’t seen her or talked to her. This isn’t how I wanted it to be. I wanted to wake up this morning, drive over to Hannah’s and tell her we were totally done, then drive straight to Jessie’s house.
But my mother had woken me up before the sun rose, reminding me that we had to be in Boston all day. I was meeting with a series of sports agents. My parents had set it up weeks ago. My whole world was about to change, and everyone from coaches to trainers to family friends told my parents to get me an agent before the NHL draft. I’d agreed to the meetings not knowing the timing would be the worst thing ever. I’d spent the whole day and half the evening in Boston. I’d wanted to text her but my dad wanted me focused, so he took my phone away for the day.
I decided to sign with a guy from a smaller, New England–based sports agency. My parents seemed pleased and I was just relieved it was over. As much as I wanted to be a professional hockey player, as the dream got closer and closer to becoming a reality, I started to panic. There were so many decisions, so many new people trying to push their way into my life and so many uncertainties. I’d been feeling that panic for a couple of months now, and now my personal life was adding anxiety to the mix.
By the time my dad gave me my phone back, it was dead. And of course Luc, Devin or Cole had removed the charger from the car, probably to use in one of their own vehicles, so it was a long, communication-free drive back to Maine.
As soon as we got home I hijacked the car, drove over to Hannah’s and made it clear that our off-again phase was permanent. To say she didn’t take it well would be an understatement of epic proportions. She started to cry—the kind of uncontrollable, snot-filled, ugly-cry I’d never seen before. It freaked me right the hell out.
“Hannah…come on…” I had begged and tried to rub her shoulder, but she shrugged me off. “We’ll still be friends.”
“I don’t want to be friends, Jordan!” she cried, her voice heavy with pain. “I thought were going to be together forever.”
“Han, we were constantly breaking up.”
“And making up! We always make up. And we talked about a future!”
“You talked about a future,” I corrected her.
“You didn’t stop me!” she wailed, more tears trickling down her cheeks.
“I didn’t think things would change like this.”
“What? What changed?” She lifted her face to look up at me, and she looked so panicked suddenly it shocked me. “I can fix it. I’ll change back to whatever you liked before. Just tell me.”
“It’s not you,” I say. “It’s me. I…want something else.”
“You just need some time.”
“I don’t need time,” I muttered.
“Don’t do this!” Hannah burst into tears again, and her sister Kristi came running in and told me to leave.
I came directly here to see Jessie. I was leaving the next morning with my parents to go to Minnesota for the NHL draft and I wouldn’t be back for a week. I had to see Jessie first. I had to make sure she…we were okay. Or more important, I had to ensure there was a “we.”
I hear tires rolling up the driveway and glance out the window. Instead of Jessie’s crappy old red Honda hatchback parking by the barn, I see Chance Echolls’ SUV parking next to my truck.
“What the hell…” I whisper as I watch them get out of the truck. There’s a bouquet of Gerber daisies in her hand.
Rose is watching too. She shrugs and simply says, “Maybe they got back
I can barely pay attention to who is being voted off the island because I’m obsessing over what to say to Jessie when I see her. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since we had sex, and I haven’t said anything to her. I haven’t seen her or talked to her. This isn’t how I wanted it to be. I wanted to wake up this morning, drive over to Hannah’s and tell her we were totally done, then drive straight to Jessie’s house.
But my mother had woken me up before the sun rose, reminding me that we had to be in Boston all day. I was meeting with a series of sports agents. My parents had set it up weeks ago. My whole world was about to change, and everyone from coaches to trainers to family friends told my parents to get me an agent before the NHL draft. I’d agreed to the meetings not knowing the timing would be the worst thing ever. I’d spent the whole day and half the evening in Boston. I’d wanted to text her but my dad wanted me focused, so he took my phone away for the day.
I decided to sign with a guy from a smaller, New England–based sports agency. My parents seemed pleased and I was just relieved it was over. As much as I wanted to be a professional hockey player, as the dream got closer and closer to becoming a reality, I started to panic. There were so many decisions, so many new people trying to push their way into my life and so many uncertainties. I’d been feeling that panic for a couple of months now, and now my personal life was adding anxiety to the mix.
By the time my dad gave me my phone back, it was dead. And of course Luc, Devin or Cole had removed the charger from the car, probably to use in one of their own vehicles, so it was a long, communication-free drive back to Maine.
As soon as we got home I hijacked the car, drove over to Hannah’s and made it clear that our off-again phase was permanent. To say she didn’t take it well would be an understatement of epic proportions. She started to cry—the kind of uncontrollable, snot-filled, ugly-cry I’d never seen before. It freaked me right the hell out.
“Hannah…come on…” I had begged and tried to rub her shoulder, but she shrugged me off. “We’ll still be friends.”
“I don’t want to be friends, Jordan!” she cried, her voice heavy with pain. “I thought were going to be together forever.”
“Han, we were constantly breaking up.”
“And making up! We always make up. And we talked about a future!”
“You talked about a future,” I corrected her.
“You didn’t stop me!” she wailed, more tears trickling down her cheeks.
“I didn’t think things would change like this.”
“What? What changed?” She lifted her face to look up at me, and she looked so panicked suddenly it shocked me. “I can fix it. I’ll change back to whatever you liked before. Just tell me.”
“It’s not you,” I say. “It’s me. I…want something else.”
“You just need some time.”
“I don’t need time,” I muttered.
“Don’t do this!” Hannah burst into tears again, and her sister Kristi came running in and told me to leave.
I came directly here to see Jessie. I was leaving the next morning with my parents to go to Minnesota for the NHL draft and I wouldn’t be back for a week. I had to see Jessie first. I had to make sure she…we were okay. Or more important, I had to ensure there was a “we.”
I hear tires rolling up the driveway and glance out the window. Instead of Jessie’s crappy old red Honda hatchback parking by the barn, I see Chance Echolls’ SUV parking next to my truck.
“What the hell…” I whisper as I watch them get out of the truck. There’s a bouquet of Gerber daisies in her hand.
Rose is watching too. She shrugs and simply says, “Maybe they got back
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