Crew (Hockey Royalty #3)

8. Liv

Chapter 8

Liv

“Y ou’re smiling,” Harlow notes, which means everyone turns and stares at me, ignoring Jake Gyllenhaal kicking ass on the screen in front of us.

“No. I’m… enjoying the movie.”

I’m not not enjoying the movie. I mean I’m sure this remake of Road House is as good as the guys in our family say it is, but I haven’t been able to focus for more than a few minutes at a time. Every time I see a muscle bulge or an abdomen flex, I think of Crew Westwood and then my mind drifts to that night and the sex. I’ve had sex. With a hot, sought-after, gorgeous man.

“That quirky, sweet kid’s store just went up in smoke.” Tenley lifts a sculpted blonde eyebrow as she points at the fiery scene on the television. “And that made you smile?”

"No of course not. I'm smiling at… The fact that Jake Gyllenhaal will swoop in and save the day." I've been telling so many little white lies lately that I swear to God I should teach a class on how to deceive your relatives and convince yourself it's a good thing.

"Something is going on with her," Tenley tells our cousins.

Harlow and our other cousin Shelby pause the movie on the screen to join the conversation. Harlow and Shelby both live in Silver Bay, our hometown in Maine, but they're here for a long weekend. Shelby is a nurse. Harlow runs our Uncle Cole's bar and has been working out like mother-fucker judging by how sculpted she looks in the cropped tank and leggings.

But my focus isn’t on Harlow’s buff physique. It’s on Tenley and her big mouth. She better not tell them about the attack. I love Shelby and Harlow and would have easily confided in them if they had been here when it happened, but they weren’t. I’ve learned that in our family the more people who know, the shorter the amount of time until your secret is a group chat topic.

Like the time Conner got drafted to the Barons and thirteen-year-old Theo thought it would be an epic tribute to painting the light posts around the parking lot at Last Call, Uncle Cole's bar, in Barons colors. He snuck out and did it in the middle of the night and woke up to a town scandal. Because the light posts were town property, not property of the bar, so the Mayor and city council were furious.

They had no idea who did it and didn't connect the colors to Conner's first NHL team. Theo confided in Grady, who helped him paint them back to white in the middle of the next night. But Grady also told Harlow, who whispered it to Tenley who told God knows which other cousin, and the next thing Theo knew, even though the light posts were white again, he was grounded for two entire months.

I did not want my mom or dad or even my brother and sister hearing a word about this incident through the Garrison family grapevine. It will be so much worse than if I told them. And I will tell them, just not until it’s over. The police called last week and said they are awaiting a trial date and my attacker has not made his bail, but he might and they will keep me informed if he does and is released.

Tenley blinks her impossibly long, natural eyelashes and seems to mentally clue into the worried look on my face. She gives her head the teeniest barely visible shake to let me know she isn't about to share that secret.

“So spill it, Livvy,” Shelby urges. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I promise. “I do nothing but go to class, go to my internship, sleep, eat, repeat.”

“You went to Vegas,” Tenley reminds everyone. “That was not classic Liv.”

“Did you get lucky in Vegas?” Harlow wants to know. “Win some money or lose your virginity?”

“Finally!” Shelby joins in and I’m offended now.

“Not you too! You were always my ally,” I complain. “No sex is the safest sex. There is nothing wrong with a slow pace in life and all that.”

Shelby reaches out and lays a hand on my forearm from her position in the bean bag chair by the window. “I promise I am still pro-abstinence. But I assume if you did it, it was because you wanted to and were ready and I’m all for that too.”

“I wish I’d never told any of you about my lack of sexual escapades.”

“You didn’t have to tell us,” Tenley reminds me. “We grew up in Silver Bay. The town is the size of a postage stamp. Everybody knows what everyone else is doing, and who they’re doing, and when they’re doing it. Do you think I wanted everyone to know my first time was with Andrew Howlett? I didn’t but word got around anyway.”

“He didn’t want everyone to know either,” Harlow says with a smile. “Because he proceeded to get body checked by every male teenage Garrison for, like, a month after that. On the ice and off.”

“Right, Theo checked him into the lockers in the hallway at school,” Shelby laughs.

"That was after Tate, Conner, and Grady had him eating the boards every time he stepped foot on the ice for months," Harlow adds.

“It’s also why I didn’t have sex again until we left for college,” Tenley sighs.

“So is there a boy?” Harlow asks and leans closer to me from her position snuggled into the crux of the L-shaped couch. Her hazel eyes soften. “Someone serious?”

“No one serious.” I roll my eyes and reach for a handful of the cheddar popcorn in a bright pink bucket on the coffee table. “God why are you all so hyper-focused on my dating life or lack thereof. You guys are all single too, you know.”

“By choice,” Tenley announces.

"Not by choice," Shelby adds and sighs, shoving a piece of her gorgeous red hair behind her ear. "The dating pool in Silver Bay is puddle-deep, girlies. Do not come home without a prospect or you'll end up alone for life."

“You’re not even thirty. Relax.” Harlow waves a hand at Shelby like she’s dispersing something foul in the air. “I don’t have time for a dude right now. I’m drowning with work.”

"And your new fitness regimen?" I ask because Harlow is seriously ripped. Like I think she's got less body fat than her hockey-playing brother, Theo, at this point.

“I’m working out more… for stress management,” Harlow replies and averts her eyes and waves her hand again. Tenley cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. “Now you said no one serious , but that doesn’t mean no one. Is there an unserious guy?”

“Must be someone from school.” Tenley furrows her brow and taps her chin with her index finger as she thinks. Her big green eyes light up and land on me. “Oh! Is it that cute guy I saw when I dropped you off at the junior high?”

“Carlos? No. I mean yeah he is cute and nice, but no.” I shake my head adamantly because I know my family—they need things loud and clear. “We work together. This internship is super imperative to my program and I need to be hyper-focused. So does he.”

Harlow sags in disappointment. “Ugh, I was hoping someone was getting some butterflies in their ovaries.”

“I thought I had butterflies last week,” Shelby tells us and sighs. “It was bad Chinese food.”

I laugh. “Can we watch the movie now?”

“Fine, but something is up with you.” Tenley points at me sternly, and she is so channeling my mom right now.

Tenley acts so much like my mom and not hers. Genetics are weird that way. I'm still trying to figure out where my shy, timid, reclusive gene came from. Although my mom once told me my auntie Rose was 'so much like me' when she was a kid. Genetics were pretty straightforward when it comes to physicality. I am a mirror image of my mom, dark hair, eyes like melted milk chocolate, skin like porcelain with a dusting of freckles across my nose if you look hard enough. But I have a dimple in my chin which is all Garrison, but I'm the shortest Garrison girl, even my baby sister Mayhem towers over me. The lack of height is all Caplan, my mom's side. I think of Crew and how I can see both his parents in him. How he and Nash, who are fraternal twins, share so many similarities from eye color to hair color but are nowhere near identical. Crew is bulkier and slightly less fair in coloring and Nash has sharper features. I may have spent a couple of hours googling pictures of Crew… because I was bored. No other reason.

“Should we have invited Mallory?” Shelby asks a minute later.

“I did, but I knew she would say no.” Tenley pauses to toss some popcorn into the air and effortlessly catches it in her mouth. “Mom and Dad went back to the Bay for a few weeks and their regular nanny quit last week so she’s got her hands full with Dylan and going back to school.”

“She could have brought Dyllie Bear,” Harlow replies. “I love that little cuddle muffin.”

“He’s a lot right now. He has Tate’s energy and really needs that backyard they have to burn it off. He’s been here before but he almost hurled himself off our balcony,” Tenley explained.

“Have they hired a new nanny yet?” Tenley turns to me and shakes her head. “Because I’d be interested.”

“Really? How? Why?” Harlow looks confused. “You’re still taking classes and you have the internship and you don’t exactly need the spending money.”

She’s right about all of that. I’m overloaded as it is, but I also can’t seem to shut off my brain. When I do have spare time all I think about is that guy tackling me or… that night with Crew. One is a bad memory I don’t want to think about and the other is a good one I don’t want to think about too much because then I’ll develop a crush on a guy I can’t be involved with. Not for real. And if I crush too hard I will use that number he left on my night table. And what good will that do me? Crew doesn’t know how we’re connected and I want to keep it that way.

I shrug. "I think it will look good on a resume, especially because I want to get a job at one of those fancy performing arts schools when I'm done."

That part is true too. It will look good on my resume if I can be a private nanny for a professional athlete. Harlow stretches. “I know Tater Tot would love having you watch Dylan. Make sure he pays you fairly. No family discount.”

“He always pays well,” I assure her because I watched Dylan a lot this summer and Tate compensated me even when I told him I didn’t want money. One time my sister Mae stayed home with me too while I watched Dylan and Tate paid us both, even though she wasn’t technically watching him.

“I just texted Mal and told her you want to watch him.” Tenley holds up her phone before dropping it on the pillow next to her. “I’m sure she’ll reach out. Do yourself a favor and walk him down by the beach. There are a ton of hot men who mack all over you when you have a baby and no wedding ring.”

"Like men even bother to look for a ring." Shelby rolls her eyes. She is the most jaded of all of us when it comes to love, which I've never understood. She hasn't had any really horrible break-ups that I know of. In fact, Harlow had her relationship implode hours before her wedding and she's less jaded than Shelby.

“Well I’m demanding you come to the game tomorrow night,” Harlow announces and I immediately shake my head. She pretends she doesn’t notice. “You and I have both sworn off hockey players so we can keep each other company while they ogle asses and stuff.”

“Hockey players are fine if you only fuck them once,” Tenley tells us. “Anyway, Harlow is right. You have to come. I hardly ever see you and I live with you.”

I think of Crew. Skating hard across the ice. Brow furrowed with exertion, legs pumping. Then I think of him naked, sweaty, hips pumping.

“Are you… blushing?” Tenley sounds horrified.

I stand up and walk to the window. “No. I’m hot. It’s Los Angeles in September. It’s the devil’s armpit.”

I punch the AC unit up a couple degrees. Now they’re all looking at me like I’m a complete weirdo. So I say the one thing that will distract them. “Fine. I’ll go to the game.”

* * *

This isn’t a big deal, I tell myself as we filter in through the turnstile, flashing our passes, on lanyards around our necks, at the security guard. “Do we really have to go down there?”

“Yeah,” replies Tenley. “I said we would meet Mallory down there. Plus candy bar.”

I swear to God Tenley’s entire diet is candy. She loves sweet stuff. Always has. Her parents have a framed photo of her at their house taken the first time she tried ice cream. Her eyes are wide, and her toothless smile takes up her entire chubby face, which is covered in chocolate. It's honestly the cutest thing I've ever seen. I wasn't a pudgy adorable baby like Tenley. I was skinny and weird-looking if you ask me.

“Oh shit. There’s Nash,” Tenley grumbles and her step falters as we make our way past another security guard at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the corridor that winds around to the VIP lounge.

I look up and see Nash Westwood in a Quake tracksuit, dirty blond head tipped downward focused on his phone. He's wearing dark-framed glasses, which makes me wonder if Crew has glasses. "You hung out with him just fine in Vegas," I remind my cousin.

“I was drunk,” she mutters. “I do a lot of stupid things when I’m drunk. By the way, I’m doing dry September. And probably October.”

“Is that a thing? I thought it was January,” Harlow asks.

“Apparently Tenley doesn’t want to accidentally party with hot but nerdy hockey players anymore,” Shelby says and smirks. “Because Tenley is an idiot.”

Nash looks up before anyone can say another word and his hazel eyes lock on Tenley and he looks… annoyed. “Can I talk to you?”

He doesn’t even acknowledge the rest of us, which seems weird. I’ve heard he’s quite the good guy, all manners and best behavior. “I’d love to, but I want to stay awake during the game and you always put me to sleep.”

“Ouch!” Harlow stage whispers.

Shelby pretends not to be listening, her big blue eyes darting around the hallway for something, anything, to focus on besides Tenley and her mean-girl attitude. Nash's stubbled cheeks start to redden.

"Hey Nash. I'm Liv," I say and now they're all staring at me in awe because, I admit, I'm not the one to jump into a tense situation. Or any situation. I shove out my hand despite the mild panic that's started pumping through my veins along with my blood. "I'm Tenley's cousin. Tate's too. I'm Conner Garrison's sister. Anyway hi. I hope you guys have another great season."

“I know who you are,” He extends his hand and his smile is tight but friendly. He yanks his eyes from Tenley. “I’m happy to finally meet you. Your family adores you and I can see why. Unlike your cousin here, you seem to be nice and normal. And thanks about the season. I guess I should be going.”

“No need. We’re going,” Tenley says and starts storming down the hall. I scurry after her.

Shelby and Harlow wave at Nash as they bustle past. “Jesus, Ten. Did he piss in your Corn Flakes or something? I mean, I get the whole ice princess mean girl thing works for you, but that was a little much. He’s a family friend.”

"He and Crew never came to any of our summer hockey gatherings," Tenley retorts. She's right. When their dad retired they moved back to his hometown in Canada and the twins were in hockey camps all summer long. "And for the record, he was an absolute dick to me in Vegas. He's not at all the sweet, adorkable guy he pretends to be."

Oh. Well… this is news. She hasn’t brought it up.

“What did he do?”

“I don’t want to get into it. But I’ve warned you all.” Tenley has her eyes glued to the ground and is fussing with her hair. Everything about her right now is self-conscious and out of character. “He’s a dick. Now let’s talk about something else. Hey! Tater Tot!”

She yells her brother's nickname and we all look down the hall to see him wandering over in the same tracksuit Nash was wearing.

"You have to stop calling me that in public." Tate rolls his big aquamarine eyes and frowns at his sister. Tenley grins in return and spins so he can see the back of her Quake jersey. Harlow moves to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Tenley and turns as well so he can see that they both have his number. But across the shoulders where his last name would normally be stitched, Tenley has the word Tater and Harlow has the word Tot.

His eyes get wider and his frown gets deeper. His eyes move to me and Shelby and the Quake logo on the front of our jerseys. "Please tell me you two didn't participate in my sister's slanderous prank."

“Guilty.” Shelby turns so he can see the Tater on her shoulders. She grabs my arm and spins me too.

“Sorry! I told them we shouldn’t do it,” I tell Tate and he sighs.

“I am never giving you guys tickets again. Traitors.”

“It’s a cute nickname, Tater Tot,” Mallory says as she walks out of the VIP lounge doors across the hall. “Right Dyllie Bear? Tell Dada his nickname is cute.”

“Dada! Dada Dada!” Dylan claps and kicks his feet on Mallory’s hip. She beams and Tate’s frown melts. They both love this kid so much.

Tate reaches out and plucks his son from Mallory, giving him a big kiss on the cheek as he squeals in delight. No one had Tate producing the first grandchild on their bingo card, but honestly, it couldn’t be more perfect. He needed something to tether him and he also needed Mallory Echolls. She needed him too. They’re a perfect pair and she is the perfect second mom to Dylan.

“Dyllie Bear!” I walk over and he immediately extends his arms.

“I can’t tell you how amazing it is to know he’s going to be with you four days a week,” Tate says as he hands his son to me. “He loves that little guitar you got him this summer. Never puts it down.”

“There’s a ton of other musical instruments I can get him,” I say. “All specially made for kids.”

“Make an Amazon Wishlist and I will buy them,” Tate promises. “I have to get into the locker room and get ready. Take those ridiculous shirts off.”

"Never!" Tenley announces loudly as Tate kisses Mallory, waves goodbye to his son, and disappears into the locker room, which is the first door on the left side of the hallway almost directly across from the VIP lounge.

“Come. I need candy,” Tenley announces and marches off to the lounge. Shelby and Harlow follow immediately but I hang back with Mallory and Dylan who has grabbed the end of one of my short braids and is trying to stuff it into his mouth.

“I told you Dylan, no eating hair!” Mallory says firmly as she gently takes his little pudgy fist and pulls my hair free. He makes a disgruntled sound but doesn’t pitch a fit, even when Mallory takes him from me.

“Are you sure you can handle four days with your school schedule and your internship?” Mallory asks and I nod.

“The way the hours are now, yes. I’m at your place three to nine three days and one weekend day from noon to six. That’s fine. I don’t have school or the internship on weekends and all my classes are over by three,” I promise.

“You’ll miss all of Tate’s games.” Mallory looks disappointed.

"Spoiler alert, I would miss them all anyway like I did last year and every year," I remind her with a sheepish grin.

“I just thought, since you went to the Vegas party and you seemed to enjoy yourself that maybe you would want to do more things with us,” Mallory replies and the disappointment in her voice is apparent. I feel instantly guilty, the way Mae and Conner used to make me feel when I didn’t want to spend my free time at the rink when we all lived at home and the two of them were playing local hockey.

Mallory must see the turmoil her words have created on my face. I’ve never had a poker face. She immediately tries to explain better. “It’s just I’m more of an introvert like you, but being a player’s girlfriend, I have to go to these things now, and Dyllie loves them. So anyway I just… it would be nice to have someone around who is mellow, like me. Ten, when she comes, is full throttle, like she is everywhere with everything and the other wives and girlfriends are more intense too. You bring this zen quality I love.”

Awe… she’s so sweet. And I love hanging out with her and maybe I would consider attending more games but… my thoughts are interrupted when the but walks by.

Crew Westwood is in the same Quake track bottoms as Tate and Nash, but he’s wearing a plain ribbed black tank on top. His inked, muscled biceps and forearms on full display. He sees Mallory and Dylan first and a friendly smile covers his wide mouth. A twinkle enters his eye as he takes in Dylan and gives the toddler a cute little wave.

But then his eyes meet mine and my ovaries, which had started to dance at the sight of him, start to do what feels like an Olympic-worthy rhythmic gymnastics routine. Good God, he is hotter than an LA August.

“Mal, Dyllie,” he says to them and leans in to hug Mallory and ruffle Dylan’s hair. His eyes stay locked with me though and then he turns that work of art he calls a body to face me. He doesn’t look shocked. He knows who I am.

“Olivia. Hi.” I wonder when and how he figured it out? Did he know all along?

Mallory lifts her eyebrows toward the fluorescent lighting above our heads. I am instantly nervous. "Hey. Hi. Crew, right?"

I stick out my hand abruptly and awkwardly. He stares at it for a moment but doesn’t leave me hanging. I feel the same electric jolt I felt in Vegas as our skin connects. “Are you here for the game?”

"Yep. Some cousins are in town. Doing a girls' weekend and Tenley wanted to harass her brother," I explain, my words rushing out of my mouth for some reason. "Anyway, I should go. Bye."

I turn and walk toward the stairs at the other end of the hall. I force my pace to be slow and casual even though my legs are itching to run. “Tell everyone I’ve gone up to the seats.”

I don’t wait for Mallory to respond, I just keep walking.

I make it all the way to the foot of the stairs before I feel his warm, large, strong hand on my shoulder. “Olivia.”

I turn around and keep my eyes level with his chest. His glorious, broad, firm, toned chest. All I can think is, I’ve kissed the nipples under that fabric. “Don’t call me that. No one calls me that. And you aren’t even supposed to really know me. Act like it. I haven’t told anyone about that… thing… and I don’t want you to, okay? Please say you haven’t said anything to anyone.”

My desperation sends my gaze upward and our eyes meet. Why does he have to be so handsome? Why did I spend the first few days home from Vegas googling him and checking out almost every interview he’s ever done? Studying every picture he’s ever taken? Stalking his social media? Why?

“I told you before I realized you were my best friend and teammate’s relative that I wouldn’t tell anyone, and that still holds,” Crew replies, his voice low but still deep and smooth like butter. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

"Because you wouldn't have wanted to…" I let my sentence trail off knowing he'll know what I'm talking about. "It would have complicated things. A one-night stand is supposed to be uncomplicated, right?"

Yeah, I’m asking because what the fuck do I know?

"Oh I still would have wanted to," he replies, pausing while his eyes dart around to make sure no one is overhearing. The security guard is the closest person to us and he's ignoring us. Crew's eyes find mine again as he confesses, "I want to right now. But I wouldn't have because you're right, it does complicate things. The team has an unofficial pact. Relatives are off limits."

“I didn’t know that. Tate has never mentioned it.”

Crew sighs and keeps staring at me. I can't read his expression but I could get lost in those hazel eyes if I let myself. And I can't. This is still a one-night stand situation. I take a step back. "Look, we never have to talk about this, or tell anyone. You did what I wanted you to do and we don't have to make it weird if we happen to run into each other again."

"I did what you wanted me to do?" Crew repeats and the way he says it, with indignation, makes me realize I offended him. I didn't mean to so of course I feel bad, but I'm so beyond new at this and what the hell do you say to a one-night stand after the fact? Ugh. I should have Googled it or something.

"I won't come to any more games so don't worry about that," I tell him. "I'm sorry."

“For what?”

“I don’t know but I feel like I should say it.”

He sighs again and runs a hand through that thick ash blond hair that I know feels like silky fur. When he doesn’t speak I decide to go. But he loops his fingers around my wrist. He stares right into my eyes. “Were you…? Was that your first time?”

Fuck. How does he know that?

Like I said earlier, I have no poker face so as soon as the words leave his mouth he sees the answer on my face. The shock. The embarrassment. It all screams yes . Now his handsome face is filled with horror and tinged with… empathy. He feels bad and now I’m humiliated.

“Please just forget it ever happened. I will too.”

I yank my wrist free, blow past the security guard, and take the stairs two at a time. I make it to the main concourse level and beeline for the first women’s bathroom I see.

I lock myself in a stall and let the hot tears poking my eyes fall. I made such a huge mistake sleeping with Crew. And now I get to add that to the pile of stuff haunting me right now. Great.