What the fuck?
“She’s my wife.”
Jace stands up from two rows in front of me and turns around, looking like he’s ready for round two. “She’s not your fucking wife, asshole. Drunken Vegas weddings don’t mean shit,” he yells as the guy next to him holds him back.
It’s gonna be a really fucking long week.
Once we get to the hotel in Atlanta, our room assignments are handed out, and keys are distributed before we’re given the schedule for the rest of the day. Some of the guys go to the conference room to grab food before we’re needed back on the bus, but I head right to my room. I need to get my head on straight before this game, and I can’t do that surrounded by a bunch of noise.
I played for the Vipers for a long damn time. My teammates and I had a rhythm on the ice. I could anticipate the plays.
Here, I haven’t had one practice with the Revolution where Jace Kingston didn’t spend most of it trying to get a slapshot off at my head.
News of the trade has been everywhere.
Interest is at an all-time high, and I don’t want to fuck this game up.
When I walk into the room, I drop down on one of the two queen beds. At least I’m sharing a room with Boone and not Jace. Apparently, Fitz thought it would be good for a captain to show me the ropes. More like it would look good to the rest of the team if both captains didn’t hate me.
My phone buzzes next to me, and I make the mistake of looking at it in case it’s Lindy. It’s not. Instead, Jules’s name is flashing.
Might as well get this over with.
I swipe my thumb across the screen, accepting her FaceTime. “Hey, Jules.”
“Look at that. You do know how to answer your phone.”
I groan and sit up. “Come on. I stopped by the house twice before you went to DC. It’s not like I was avoiding you. How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t be home either time?”
“Well, if you’d have bothered to answer your phone, I could have told you I wouldn’t.” Her face softens. “I was hoping we’d get to talk before you flew out for the Atlanta game.”
“Can we not do this now? I’ve got to get ready for the game.”
Her face falls, and she plays with the pendant hanging from her necklace like she always does when she’s upset. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead,” I grumble.
“Why do you think I’m mad at you? Haven’t I supported everything you’ve ever wanted to do? Even when you were little and I was living in Europe? Whenever your mom would call and tell me you were trying out something new, I was always the first person after her to cheer you on. I’d call, and we’d talk for hours about how excited you were. We don’t talk like that anymore, E.”
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Jules.” No matter how much I sometimes wish I could go back to when I was and my mom was still alive.
“No. You’re not. You’ve grown into a man I’m so incredibly proud of. A man any woman would be lucky to be loved by. So I’ve got to ask . . . do you love her, Easton? Did you marry Lindy because you love her or was it a drunken Vegas mistake?”
“That’s between Lindy and me, Jules.” I try to keep my tone calm, but I’m not sure I manage.
“Easton—”
“Do you think I’d marry Madeline Kingston if I didn’t love her?” I bite back, aggravated she’d even ask me that. “What the hell have I ever done to make you think so fucking little of me?”
“No,” she whispers. “I don’t. But I wouldn’t know that because you haven’t talked to me about it. I didn’t even know you got married. I had to find out when Ashlyn called me, losing her mind. The Kroydon Kronicles seems to know more than we do. So tell me, should we all be on baby watch like they’re reporting, Easton?”
“No, Juliette. Lindy’s not pregnant.” Not that I hate that idea. “And, okay, I’ll give you that one. You shouldn’t have had to find out that way. But we were still figuring things out,” I tell her.
“What’s there to figure out?” She brings the phone closer to her face as she moves around her office.
“Well, for starters, she doesn’t remember the wedding. She and Everly thought pounding champagne would be a great way to celebrate afterward, and Lindy’s not much of a drinker. So the night’s a blur for her.”
“Oh . . . That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not. But she wasn’t drunk when she married me. Neither of us were. We’d had a few drinks, but we weren’t that bad. Then there’s the fact we kinda went about all of this backward. We’re trying to reset.”