Some guys have all the luck.
That’s a song, right? I’m sure it is. Or at least the lyrics to one.
It’s also true in life. Some guys, and women, are lucky. Find a penny, and tails never fails for them and the rest of their day is sunshine and smiles.
And me?
I can’t say that’s the case. There’s been a lot of sacrifice. A lot of work. Hours in the gym and more on the ice and private coaches and personal trainers. There’s been missing out on all manner of experiences a typical childhood has. High school activities, summers spent working and making friends. I missed almost all of that kind of stuff due to training camps and tryouts and the like.
Not that I’m complaining. I’m grateful for every sacrifice, and hell… I chose it, hoping it’d get me to where I am now—playing second line right winger for a professional hockey team. It’s everything I’ve wanted since I can remember. Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss out on some stuff though.
But today?
Oh yeah.
I’m feeling pretty damn lucky.
I have the world’s most beautiful woman sitting next to me in a car that drives like it’s hovering above the steaming asphalt.
And if that kiss is anything to go by that we shared a week ago, she wants me at least as much as I want her.
I won’t risk ruining the weekend or our friendship by throwing all my cards down on the table too quickly. She’ll learn soon enough.
I want to stick it to all of them this weekend. Roman for cheating on her. Julianna for taking her friend’s guy right out from underneath her. Her parents, for going with the flow.
So this car I’m arriving in is as much to stick it to him, shove my wealth down his rich throat until he chokes on it.
Because Roman will never have what I have… which, at the very top of the list, is some freaking respect for Jillian.
No, for now, I’ll continue to let Jillian believe we’re still just friends, even if I want to reach my hand across the seat, slide it along her dress, lifting it until her sex is bared so I can see what kind of panties she’s wearing beneath her modest, but still sexy as sin dress.
Lace. Hopefully. And please, let it be a thong I can tear with my teeth someday.
“You’re quiet,” she says, as we zip down the interstate. “Everything okay?”
The lingering image of a lacy thong evaporates, and I grip the wheel tighter. “I’m good. It’s me who should be asking that, isn’t it?”
“I’m fine.” She rests her head on the headrest and turns to me, sweeping hair behind her ear. “Well no. I don’t want to do this at all. I haven’t even seen Roman since last Christmas and that was barely a month after we broke up.”
When her parents demanded she return home so their families could celebrate together. I’d met her back in Charlotte after that fiasco with a bottle of tequila and a handful of limes. She cried for hours.
“He lost out on the best thing that could have happened to him, Jilly-Bean. It’s a good thing you’re over that asshole. Trust me, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself this weekend despite the madness.”
She’s silent for so long I peel my eyes off the road and glance at her. Her lips are parted, eyes soft, staring at nothing out the window.
“You are, right?”
“I am what?”
“Roman. You have moved on, right? You don’t miss him?”
She scoffs like I’m an idiot, giving me an incredulous look. “No way. Not in the least.”
“Good. Then I hope you get a picture of his expression when he sees your dad taking this thing for a test drive.”
An unbidden laugh falls from her.
“Thanks Klaus. You’re really good to me.”
“It’s not a problem. I’d do anything for a friend.”
“Right.”
She turns toward the window, but I swear I see something sad in her eyes before she closes them.
I’m left wishing I could somehow manage to kick my own ass while stuck in this cramped space for the next three hours.
5
Jillian
“Anything for a friend.”
Four simple, innocuous words that put together reverberate through my mind like jumping beans for hours.
I’m being absolutely ridiculous and yet after that conversation before we were outside Charlotte city limits, I closed my eyes and feigned sleep until I actually did fall asleep.
Klaus is my friend.
Reminder message: activated.
I wake as he slows through the stop and start traffic of the historic Charleston area and ache to stretch my legs. His car is incredibly smooth with buttery soft leather, but the legroom is less than desirable.
A knot curdles in my stomach as we turn down my street. Cars line the narrow streets, framed with draping willow trees and oak trees that have survived wars dating back to before the dawn of when our country was founded. Growing up in one of the oldest cities in the south has always sent a flush of pride through my veins, but today, my hands are curled into fists and my heart thrums to an unnatural beat.
We pull close to the pencil-thin narrow drive of my parents’ house, and my hand slaps down on the door.
“Stop.”
“What?” Klaus stomps on the brake, jolting the car. He’s blocking the road, uncaring, focus solely on me. I feel his gaze burning the back of my head while I take in the sight in front of me.
Obviously I knew I’d have to see Roman. It is his wedding I’m attending. But to be here now? I can’t even get settled and say hello to my parents before I’m forced to deal with him?
“Roman’s here.”
I’d recognize his silver Mercedes anywhere.
“Shit.” With the precision I’ve learned only a vehicle like this has, Klaus does the exact opposite of what I’ve demanded. The car flies into the drive, narrowly missing the low-hanging branches of old willow trees covered with Spanish moss and pulls to a stop inches from Roman’s Mercedes.
It stops on a dime, right as I grip a handle in fear of bumping the silver car in front of us with its blacked-out windows.
“Listen to me,” he says.
I can barely hear Klaus over the roaring fury rushing through my ears, but I force myself to focus on him. Klaus has a way of helping me feel centered when everything else around me is going mad.
Why in the hell is Roman even here?
“What?”
He grins. Quirks a thick brow over his left eye, simultaneously lifting the corner of his lip on the right side. “All you have to do is pretend you like me and I’ll do the rest.”
“I do like you.” Because, duh.
“Then you have nothing to be worried about this weekend.”
“Right.” The word falls from my mouth in slow motion but saying it, almost like a promise, calms me. “We’ve got this.”
“I won’t let any of them hurt you. I don’t give a shit who they are.”
With that, he presses the button and turns the car off. “Should we get our bags?”
“I’m sure they’ve hired a butler for the weekend or something else equally ridiculous. Leave them. We can take care of them later.”
I pass Roman’s car, barely resisting the urge to slam the heel of my sandal into one of his taillights and meet Klaus at the front. He takes my hand and links our fingers.