Chapter 18 Putting my hands on Ally's body was probably a terrible idea, but I can't bring myself to regret it the next morning. I think I could've danced with her for hours if we hadn't had an audience. The tension between us feels like it's reaching a boiling point. If someone doesn't remove the pot from the heat, we're going to boil over. And it's more than just her being attractive and in my space at this point. I genuinely like Ally, and I can't say that about most people. Like Fisher first told me, she's a nice girl. She's also cool and funny and down-to-earth...and I find myself wanting to spend time in her company. To the point where distancing myself from her is growing more difficult with every passing day. I mean, some of the greatest players in the league have girlfriends, wives, kids, and lives outside of hockey. Maybe it's a good thing to have someone special in your life to come home to after a game? Maybe my performance is suffering because I'm pushing myself too hard. But maybe not. And I'm not sure that's a risk I'm willing to take. If I do give into the desire I'm feeling for Ally, I'll feel like I'm failing in some way...like I'm giving up on my goal. The single goal I've spent my entire life working towards. Distance from Ally is clearly the best-the only-option. I'll have plenty of time to date once I'm a more established player. And keeping people at arm's length is the best way to protect myself. Because tragedy can happen to anyone. I force that disturbing thought out of my mind, knowing that's my anxiety talking. Nothing bad is going to happen to Ally, or Penn, or Fisher. But the anxiety is still there in the back of my mind, annoying me like someone poking me continuously. I continue lacing up my tennis shoes when Harry Styles struts over and distracts me as he plops down and plays with my shoestrings. He's a welcome distraction, for once. "Hey, Harry," I say, gently patting his head the way he likes. He blinks up at me before standing and jumping onto my lap, purring loudly and rubbing his face on my jaw. I smile, finding it hard not to like his affection. Thankfully no one is up to give me shit about it. Glancing around the quiet loft, I wonder when Penn and Fisher will be up and ready to work out. After all those cookies last night, the three of us agreed to hit up the gym in our building to do an early workout. And yet here I am, the only one awake at eight in the morning. A heavy lifting session with the guys is just what I need to clear my head and get away from Ally for a few hours. This way I won't have to see her in her pink pajamas or watch her tiptoe around the loft dancer-style as she makes her morning coffee. Both of my teammates' bedroom doors open a moment later, and Penn and Fisher stride out to the main area of the loft dressed and ready to lift. The sound of the doors has Harry jumping off my lap and skittering toward Ally's room. Fisher and Penn aren't morning people, so this is the only time of day that our loft is actually quiet. They each grab a protein bar, and Fisher steps toward the front door. Penn shoots me a glance like are you ready to work out? Shaking my head at his bleary eyes, I stand to follow them out the door. But then Ally pops out of her room, also dressed for a workout. I hold back a sigh. I was hoping we could get out of here without me having to see her and be reminded again of how it felt to hold her in my arms-which was everything I thought it would be and then some. When I look at her, her gaze travels down the length of my body. Mine. Not Penn's or Fisher's, just mine. Ally blinks, meeting my gaze. "Are you guys working out?" she asks, pulling one of her legs behind her back in a stretch. "It's such a beautiful morning, I thought I'd go for a run outside. Maybe we can all run together!" Ally releases her leg and looks at us, her eyes alight with excitement at the prospect. She's obviously never heard the stereotype about hockey players...we don't run. I bring a hand up to scratch the back of my head. "I'm not much of a runner." "Oh, okay." She worries her bottom lip. "Maybe I'll just run on the treadmill, then. I don't really want to run outside alone." I open my mouth to tell her that would be best, but Fisher speaks first, his voice still raspy from just waking up. "Going for a run sounds cool; I never run. And it's a beautiful day." "Sounds good to me." Penn shrugs, not caring either way. Ally pivots her head to look at me, awaiting my answer. I really, really hate running, but the trepidation written across her face has me reconsidering my stance on the subject. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? I don't know what it's like to be a woman, but I imagine it must be scary to run alone, especially in a big city you're unfamiliar with. I sigh. "Okay, we can run." Ally jumps up and down, clapping her hands. "This is going to be so fun!" Twenty minutes into running up an excruciating incline in San Fran, and I can confirm...this is not fun. Penn, even though he's the biggest of us three guys, has some kind of ungodly quad strength and ends up being the only one of us who's able to keep up with Ally, who apparently has been training for sprinting a damn marathon because she's barely broken a sweat. She and Penn are way ahead, running up the steep hill like it's a flat plain. What the hell. Fisher and I fall back, both of us panting hard until we finally reach the top and continue on the running path, which is thankfully level the rest of the way. Once our breathing normalizes, we start up an easy conversation. I realize I haven't actually spent much one on one time with Fisher. Penn and I were roommates throughout college, and I know everything about him. Even things I wish I didn't know. But Fisher, despite being wildly extroverted, is still a mystery to me. He seems like an open book, but he only reveals things he chooses to bring you in on. There's clearly a lot more to him than his reckless, flippant, playboy facade...I'm just not sure what, exactly. "So, what's it like having your brother-in-law as your coach?" Fisher asks, risking a glance before turning back toward the path. His eyes are bright from exertion, and he's wide awake now. I think for a moment. "Great, aside from the shit it stirred up with Sandine. Mitch has always had a knack for coaching. He coached my youth league one season, actually. Before he and Andie were together." He huffs a laugh. "Is that how they met?" I smile, thinking back to that first game he coached. "Yep. She hated him at first." Fisher guffaws. "That's a story I need to hear sometime." I focus for a moment on Ally and Penn in front of us, they're probably ten yards away, out of hearing. "So, how do you know Ally?" Fisher shrugs. "She came to a party at my house once..." he trails off, like there's more he wants to say but he's holding back. Something seems to press against my chest, and I rub at the ache there. "Ahh, so you guys hooked up." I clear my throat, trying not to seem bothered by it. But I'm really, really bothered by it. "What?" Fisher slows, turning toward me with his brow furrowed. "No. We were never like that. I can have platonic relationships with women, asshole." He scoffs, clearly annoyed by my accusation. I breathe a sigh of relief that I hope he thinks is from running and catching my breath. "Sorry. I shouldn't have assumed." Fisher studies me, keeping his gait steady as a slow smirk begins to spread over his face. "Ooh," he says, laughing to himself. "I can't believe I didn't see it." I slow to a stop, planting my hands on my hips. "See what?" Fisher stops, too, but he's still smirking. "You're into her." "No, I'm not," I say, my defensive tone belying my statement. "Yes, you are. Nothing to be embarrassed about, dude. Ally's the best." "No," I insist again. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't bring some crazy rando to live in our loft." He shakes his head, leaning toward me and patting me hard on the shoulder. "Sure, Downsby. Whatever you say." Fisher takes off running again, laughing every step of the way. I watch him, too annoyed to start chasing after him. "I'm not into her!" I yell. He waves me off with one hand and keeps running. With a groan, I finally get my feet moving but don't try to catch up to him. I think I need silence for the rest of this run. I'm the last one to make it back to the loft, and when I stride inside, huffing and puffing like a six-pack-a-day smoker or something, Fisher is excitedly opening a box while Penn and Ally look on in curiosity. "What's that?" I ask, grabbing the back of my shirt and tugging it over my head then using it to wipe at the sweat pouring down my neck and face. I do it without thinking, and when I open my eyes, I find Ally's gaze on my bare chest. My stomach does a strange flip. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, and damn if that little movement doesn't make me want to draw that full lip of hers into my mouth instead and see what she tastes like. Sweet, I'd guess. Like the cookies she made. When she finds me watching her, a red hue that has nothing to do with exercise moves up Ally's chest and face. She quickly looks away. I struggle to hold back my smile. It's hard not to feel smug when a gorgeous woman looks at you like that. But deep down, I know it's because Ally was looking at me, not just any beautiful woman. Because damn it, Fisher was right. I am into her. Way too into her. I turn my attention back to Fisher as he finally gets the giant box open. The man literally squeals like a teenage girl. "They're here!" "What's here?" I ask again, not sure if I really want to know. "Our Halloween costumes!" Fisher says as he pulls one of the garments from the box. It's a black, pinstripe suit with a wide 1920s style suit collar, complete with a bazooka. There are three others in the box just like it. Fisher reaches back inside the box, grabbing one of the bazookas and tossing it to me. "What the puck?" I demand. "Mobster costumes." Fisher looks way too happy. "You know because of those old gangster movies we all love." I catch the plastic weapon with a roll of my eyes. "I'm an adult, Fisher. I'm not going trick or treating." He scoffs, handing Penn a suit. "We're not going trick or treating. A longtime friend of my family owns Deja Vu." He raises his eyebrows knowing the name of the restaurant will get our attention. It's a San Francisco institution, frequented by celebrities and actual nepo babies-one of those places that's booked up years in advance and is impossible to get into. "Davidson invited us to his swanky Halloween party. He decks the place out every year with dim lighting and all-out decor. The place goes from an upscale eatery to a semi-haunted Victorian mansion." "Semi?" Penn asks, posing with his bazooka even though he's probably never held a gun in his life. "You know," Fisher says. "Spooky but not scary." Fisher finally hands Ally her costume, which is just a slightly smaller version of ours. She eyes it like it's the most hideous thing I've ever seen, then laughs, but it sounds a little off-not like her usual bubbly, sunshiny laughter. "Fisher, I'm a girl, remember? I'm not wearing this." Fisher's face falls, and he eyes her with worry. "You don't want to wear the costume, or you don't want to go to the party?" His tone is surprisingly gentle. Ally hesitates. "I don't know. I'll think about it?" "Of course," Fisher replies immediately. "Thanks." Ally gives him a grateful look then tosses the costume back into the box before turning toward her room. "I'm going to grab a shower." Penn sniffs his armpit and finally puts the weapon back inside the box. "Ugh, same. I smell awful." He strides toward his and Fisher's side of the apartment. Fisher begins tucking the costumes back inside the box, seeming much less excited now than he did before Ally's comment. I leave him to it, heading to my room to wait my turn for the bathroom I share with Ally. Stepping inside my room, I don't close the door all the way, unsure if Harry is in here. A moment later, I hear hushed whispers from across the hall. Perhaps against my better judgment, I peer through the crack in my door to see Fisher in front of Ally's room. "If you don't want to come to the party, you don't have to," Fisher says. "But I just wanted you to have an opportunity to have fun and not worry about anything. I figured this could be good because all three of us will be there with you, we'll be like your super-hot bodyguards." I squint my eyes, feeling bad for eavesdropping, but more curious than ever. What happened to make her dislike parties so much? Ally huffs a laugh, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. "You guys will leave me alone the second a woman grabs your attention." Fisher makes the sign of the cross over his heart. "I promise we won't. I meant it when I said I'm here for you, that I'll stay with you during the party." Her expression is conflicted, like she wants to say yes, but is scared. The fear in her eyes has me on autopilot, opening my door and stepping into the hallway before I hardly even realize what I'm doing. "We will stay with you. All three of us." I give Fisher a serious look. "And none of us will drink either, if that helps you feel more secure." Ally's face brightens. "Really?" Fisher heaves a resigned sigh. "Yeah, okay. We won't even drink." Ally smiles, all the fear and worry that was just there disappearing. "You guys are the best." She walks into the bathroom, her change of clothes tucked under one arm. When the bathroom door closes Fisher narrows his eyes at me and shakes his head. "What?" "I'm not into her," Fisher says in a mocking tone. "I'm not," I whisper-yell. "And none of us will drink," Fisher mocks again. I step inside my room and close my door behind me, but I can hear him laughing all the way back to his side of the loft. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!