Power Forward (Chicago Thunder, #4)

by Jodi Oliver

To those whose biggest demon is their own mind, you are worthy and you are enough.

“At what point of the day do we get cake?” Elliot asks, fiddling with one of the elastic straps of his forest-green suspenders as he shifts from foot to foot. The guy is incapable of standing still. “I was promised there would be cake.”

Elliot, you angel.

I personally don’t see it as a bad thing, but goalies are known to be a little weird. Okay, maybe not a little weird. A lot weird. But Elliot wears it well.

My baby.

“Wait. How have you been waiting days when he only told you about it last night?” “Exactly. It has been days because in Australia, it’s already tomorrow, so that means they have been waiting days, ergo, days.” Elliot waves his hand out to the side and rolls his eyes, silently saying, “Fucking duh.”

🤣

“I know, peanut, I miss you too. I’ll be home soon, okay? Do you remember why I came to California?” She gives a shaky nod and hiccups. “B-b-blaine and Alex… getting married.” “Yeah, that’s right.” I smile softly, keeping my voice gentle and calm. “I’ll take lots of photos so you can look through them when I’m home.” She blinks at me with her big blue eyes. I can see the fat tears clinging to her lashes through the camera. “And cake?” Some of the tension leaves my shoulders as I laugh. “I don’t think the cake will survive the flight home, but how about this? I promise I’ll take you to the bakery, and you can choose a cake. Maybe I’ll even ask Jacob if he can make you a special one.” And just like a switch has been flicked, the tears suddenly stop, and an excited expression takes over her face.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Slowly, I turn to glance over my shoulder, and my body trembles when I see him. Dressed in a three-piece navy blue suit that fits his long, lean form like a dream, he oozes sex and sophistication. It’s clear to see how he’s made several best-dressed lists and received awards for the most handsome man. They used to call him the golden boy of the NHL. Not only because he had stellar stats to match his stellar appearance but because he had the type of personality that could win over even the toughest of critics. He used to be known as the poster boy power forward. I was fooled once before by the charm and the expensive suits and crystal-like blue eyes, but I won’t be fooled again.

Fuck. I hate that my body still comes alive whenever he’s around. A feeling that I’ve only ever experienced with him. And I hate it even more so because he’s the only person to ever break my heart. My ex-teammate. My first love. Hayden Cassidy.

And here. we. go.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am happy for him. His soon-to-be husband, Alex, has brought the best out in Blaine—and saved me from prematurely getting more gray hairs before I hit the big four-oh—and while today is filled with happiness and love, it’s a stark reminder of everything I’ve failed at. One of them being the man sitting next to me, and it’s safe to say I failed him big-time.

My attention should have been on Alex and Blaine, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him as a million and one thoughts ran through my mind. Was his blond hair as soft as it used to be? Was he still ticklish beneath his ribs? Did he still eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off before every game? Was his mouth still his biggest erogenous zone? I wanted to know everything about him, but my questions would remain unanswered. Because the moment he noticed I was watching him and not the ceremony, the tension returned to the broad line of his shoulders, and his jaw snapped shut so fast I heard his teeth audibly click. It’s kinda fucked-up to think his scowl is one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen in a long time, but I don’t blame him for feeling this way toward me. I deserve it.

Jackson Wilde has always been the one who got away. The one who was the reason why I could never completely hand my heart over to my ex-wife, Zara. It was because he still owned it. Even now. Almost fourteen years later, he still has a tight hold on me.

“Alex, do you take Blaine to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the officiant asks, finally pulling my attention away from the man next to me. Alex flashes a wide smile and nods. “I do.” When she turns to Blaine, his chin wobbles. He presses his lips together like he’s trying to keep a lid on his emotions. “Blaine, do you take Alex to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Blaine’s eagerly nodding his head before she’s finished speaking, causing a ripple of laughter among the guests. “I do. I really fucking do.”

Sweetest babies 🥹🥰

I had that once. That intense kind of love where you are everything to each other. The ability to communicate with a simple gaze. A deep-seated need to be together constantly. To have a level of intimacy that goes beyond just sex. Twin flames, some might say. Now, he can barely look at you, that small voice in my head reminds me.

“I can’t believe you don’t think I’m hot,” he chides, sounding genuinely upset. I have to swallow back my laughter. “Hey, I never said that. I said you’re not my type. Plus, you’re straight, if you’ve forgotten.” I smirk. He splutters, and I can’t hold my laughter back any longer at the sight of his put-out expression. “Well, yeah, I am, but I also have feelings, and that kinda hurt, Cassie.”

Taking a steadying breath, I remind myself I’m confident and charming. I can do this. Who am I kidding? I’m neither of those things. But I sure as hell can put on a convincing front because nobody knows what I’ve been dealing with in the almost nine years since I had the decision of my retirement taken away from me, except for two people.

As I watch Jackson’s retreating back disappear into the crowd, I can’t help but wonder if he would look at me differently if he knew about the inner demon that’s been living inside of me for so long. That I’ve allowed it to eat away at my life, stopping me from living. To just be… existing. Now, I’m living the life I loved so much through my clients instead. Or would he see me as the weak man that I am underneath the façade I try so fucking hard to keep up? Or would he be glad that he cut me out of his life when he did? I guess I’ll never get the chance to know.

Whiskey isn’t my typical drink of choice, but it was always Hayden’s. For weeks after we broke up, it became my crutch. Loving how it tasted on my lips because it reminded me of him. But then the heartbreak turned into anger, and I haven’t touched a drop since. Until now.

I’m struggling to understand why I’m still affected by him after all this time. It’s like the Hayden Cassidy homing beacon that’s been dormant inside me for over a decade has kick-started, and every single one of my senses has been programmed to focus on him. It’s stifling.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. And fourteen years later, those words still cut through me like a knife. I was never in love with you, Jackson.

We went from being inseparable to becoming strangers, and sometimes you don’t truly know the significance of that loss until they’re standing right in front of you again. Like a mirage of someone you once knew.

“They’re new,” I point out, then internally roll my eyes. Seriously, Wilde? Of course they’re fucking new. He didn’t have one drop of ink on his skin when we were together. I would know, because I knew every inch of him intimately. “Yeah. There’s a lot of things that are new for us, Jax.” I frown at his tone, and I don’t miss how my heart rate picks up at the sound of my old nickname. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I mean—” He cuts himself off, sighing heavily. He raises his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, then drops it again to look at me. “Fuck. I didn’t want to do this here.” Those gray eyes lock on to mine, rooting me in place. They flash with an emotion I’m unable to decipher when he speaks again, “I understand why you hate me. In fact, I probably hate myself just as much as you do, if not more, but I’m not that person anymore, Jax. If I could go back and do things differently, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can’t. I have to live with the consequences of my actions.”

“I don’t hate you, Hayden,” I tell him, standing upright and turning my body to face him. “But you broke my heart. You threw away the years we spent together just like that.” I snap my fingers. “Like we meant nothing. I’m sorry I’m not going to be happy to see you or be around you. Especially considering this is only the second time I’ve seen you that hasn’t been during a game. But I don’t hate you.” “You did mean something.” He drops his gaze to the ground. His voice is quiet, almost pained. “You could’ve fooled me,” I laugh humorlessly. “I was sent to this brand-new city, all alone. I didn’t know a fucking soul, and the one person who I thought had my back was nowhere to be seen.”

“You dropped me so fast, Hayden. I didn’t know what the fuck I did or whether our relationship was even real because next thing I know, you were posting you were engaged! You can’t blame me for not greeting you with open arms. I spent so fucking long second-guessing whether our connection was genuine. Whether your feelings for me were genuine or whether you were just using me because it was convenient.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and his teeth dig into his rosy bottom lip so hard it turns white. “I wasn’t using you, and it wasn’t because it was convenient.”

I don’t know why I want to ask him to stay. I want him to tell me why he’s now covered in tattoos and the stories behind them. I want him to tell me what’s going on in his mind and what happened to make his eyes become stormy. Like the flame that used to burn so bright has been snuffed out. But I can’t.

You broke my heart. You threw away the years we spent together just like that, like we meant nothing. I squeeze my eyes closed as his words filter through my mind again, and the ache in my chest blooms. I may have broken his heart, but he has it all wrong about us meaning nothing. I had thrown it away because it meant everything to me.

What do I want to achieve from being back in Jackson’s life again? Ultimately, I want him back, but I know that’s not going to happen. All the sad love songs say you don’t know what you’ve lost until it’s gone, and it’s true. But my loss is so far gone, and I’m not sure it’s redeemable after what I did to him.

“I don’t know. Happiness, I guess? I was so happy when we were together. I want to make things right with him, but I also want to open that door and see if there’s another chance for us.” I rub my jaw with my palm. My skin is beginning to feel too tight for my body under her watchful eye. “I’d start small, like you taught me. Ask if he wants to get coffee, then next time, maybe I can take him for lunch. Baby steps. I know he’s wary of me, and I don’t blame him for being guarded because I threw our relationship into a dumpster fire without so much as a second thought because I was scared.” She gives a small smile and nods softly. “But you want to try.” My breath comes out in a rush because that’s just it. I want to try. I’ve been working on myself over the years to get to this point where I’m strong enough to try and get him back. Medication and therapy doesn’t mean depression just disappears. I’m always going to be healing. “Yeah, I do.”

“You’re awesome, you know that?” I tell her. I can hear the smile in her voice when she replies, “I know, which is why I’m gonna help you win your man back. No matter what it takes.”

Isabela snatches the pajamas out of my hand and tosses them onto the floor. “No, not them,” she scolds and jumps off the bed. I’m startled by her outburst, unable to do anything except stand there, wide-eyed, while she grabs another set out of her chest of drawers and hands them over with a sweet smile. Like she didn’t turn into a wet gremlin a few seconds ago. “These, Daddy. Pink unicorns.”

It’s remembering I’m also Jackson Wilde, the guy who enjoys cooking and listening to Frank Sinatra and enjoys lazy Sundays in bed with a good thriller. Because outside of every other hat I wear, I’m not sure I remember who I am anymore. And it kinda sucks.

And it’s where I met Hayden. I was already in awe of him before I was called up. He started his professional career as an undrafted free agent, and even early on, he was a polarizing figure, making waves from his first game. You could say I was captivated by him before he opened his mouth and introduced himself. It was easy to fall in love with him.

I turn at the sound of my name, mentally snapping myself out of the cloud my head disappeared into. Elliot jogs down the hall, having changed into sweats and a hoodie that looks a few sizes too big for him.

WHO’S CLOTHES ARE THOSE, ELLIOT???

At least five minutes have gone by when Elliot’s question catches me off guard. “Do you ever get lonely on the road?” I tilt my head toward him. “What do you mean?” “Like, everyone is pretty much coupled up now, apart from you and Peyton and a couple of the younger guys. But road trips used to be fun. We’d play Ping-Pong or gate-crash Zach’s room to play video games, but now… Now, they don’t wanna play Ping-Pong. They just wanna be in their rooms and speak to their partners.” He shrugs. I can tell he’s trying to appear unbothered, but I can see the underlying hurt. “It can be lonely, I guess. I’m not very good with change.”

MY POOR BABY IS SAD SOMEONE SPEND TIME WITH HIM, NOW!!!

A pensive look crosses his face. “Have you ever had that? Where you have the need to be with them all the time, even if it’s over the phone?” Hayden instantly comes to mind. Something that’s happened a lot over the last three months. We were inseparable during our relationship. We spent every moment possible together, whether it be on the road, in the confines of our home, or even in the locker room. We would play together, train together, and eat together. At night, we would sneak into each other’s hotel room on the road, and I pretty much lived at Hayden’s apartment in Seaport until the day I was shipped off to LA. A trickle of annoyance claws up my throat, making my skin heat. It’s like he’s planted his handsome ass back into my mind since the wedding, and I’ve been unable to think about anything else but him. Along with all the unanswered questions I have. “Yeah, a long time ago. It didn’t last, though,” I say.

“Hey, Jackson?” Elliot calls out as I reach the door to my room. “I know it’s easy for me to say, but you shouldn’t feel guilty. You’re an awesome dad, and you’ve got two awesome kids who love the hell out of you. You should give yourself some grace and stop holding yourself to this made-up standard.” He smiles. “You’re doing awesome, okay?” “Thanks, El. I appreciate it.” I smile back. “And I’m here if you need me, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Did I need to be in Boston tonight? No. But this is all part of the master plan I’ve been working on over the last couple of months. I knew they would be staying overnight before heading to Washington tomorrow, and what better place to invite Jackson for a morning coffee than in the city where we fell in love.

The fear that rooted deep inside of me when he received the news of a trade took over and my mind began to spiral. What if he found someone else? What if he realized how much I was head over fucking heels in love with him and decided I was too much? What if he realized he didn’t really love me and decided to end it? What if the distance became too much? I guess my anxieties started long before my injury because it was when Jackson had to leave that the voices started to take control in my mind.

I’m on my feet, clapping so hard my palms burn. My smile threatens to crack my face in two. Pride is blooming in my chest when Jackson skates past the bench, tapping his gloves against his teammates’. I’m so fucking proud of him.

But then I realize I’m getting myself worked up over nothing. Because he said yes. He said yes. I roll over to put my phone on charge, and I fall asleep with Jackson on my mind and a smile on my face.

My knee bounces under the table, and nerves pool in my stomach. I knew it was a big risk when I sent that text last night. I’ve been working up to that moment for months. Baby steps. That’s all I need to remember. This was step one, and in my mind, it was the biggest. Jackson could have said no to meeting up. He could have left me on read and ignored me completely. But he didn’t. He said yes. He said he was going to show up. I take a sip of my coffee and glance at the time on my phone. 9:02 a.m. He should be here any minute now. I open up one of the apps I use when I need to distract my brain when the bell jingles above the door. My head snaps up so fast I get a twinge in my neck. Jackson’s hulking figure is in the doorway, dressed in a charcoal wool coat and light gray toque, his eyes scanning the cafe before landing on me. The corner of his lips tip in a small smile, and it takes everything in me not to fist bump the air. He came.

“I’d like it if we could be friends again. I know that sounds very juvenile for guys our age, but…” I take off my glasses and scrub my face with my palm. He’s blurry, and somehow, it makes it easier to get my words out. “I’ve missed having you in my life, and I didn’t know how much until I saw you at Zach’s apartment that time with your daughter.” When I put my glasses back on, his expression is still full of confusion. The longer he’s silent, the more my skin begins to feel tight and itchy. Please say something, I inwardly beg, Anything. His tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip, and my eyes latch onto the movement. “I don’t know what to say,” he finally answers. “Say yes?” A small huff of nervous laughter escapes me. “You’ve got my number now. We can text, or if we’re ever in the same city, maybe grab a bite to eat?” I shrug, trying to appear casual despite my knee bouncing an erratic rhythm beneath the table. I sound like a fucking high schooler begging to be friends with the popular kid, but I don’t care. This is a marathon, and I’m only at the very beginning. Baby steps. “Okay.” “Yeah?” I bring my coffee to my lips to disguise how my face wants to break out in a wide grin. “Yeah. I mean, a lot has changed over the years, like you said at the wedding. We’re not the same people we were last time we were here,” he says, and I don’t miss the slight defensive tone to his voice. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be civil, considering we run in the same circles.” “Right.” ...

“You okay?” I quietly ask him after a beat. “Yeah, just a bad dream,” he whispers back. “Wanna hug it out?” I can feel his nod against the pillow more than I can see it, so I open my arms, and he curls into me.

He’s such a good dad 🥹

Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, I allow my eyes to fall closed again when he relaxes. “It was just a dream. I’ve got you.” “I know.” A moment of silence passes before he says, “I love you, Dad.” My heart squeezes in my chest, and the back of my eyelids burn at those three words. There will soon come a day where I won’t get to hear those words from him. He’ll be too cool to tell his old man he loves him, so I cherish every single one. “I love you too. Get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”

Does it make me selfish for not wanting to give up hockey so I can be more present in my kids’ lives? Maybe. But I’m trying to convince myself that it’s not selfish because I’m setting them up to have everything they could ever need or want. And hopefully, they will be proud of me too.

I slip back under the covers next to Isabela and place my hand on the top of Ryan’s head, stroking the soft blond strands. He wanted to start growing his hair at the start of the year because Elliot decided to grow his. He thinks our goalie is one of the coolest guys ever, cooler than me by a long shot. It creates a warmth inside me that spreads throughout my body that my kids adore my teammates just as much as they adore my kids.

Deciding to make the most of this relaxed, peaceful morning, I pick up my book with my free hand, balancing it in my lap while I sip on my coffee. I manage to get through four chapters before they both stir awake. I close my book and put it aside. “Finally!” I fake-cry, playing into the dramatics that ends up making them laugh. “I didn’t think you’d ever wake up. I thought I was gonna have to spend the day on my own.” “You silly, Daddy,” Isabela giggles around a yawn. “I was close to calling a friend to help me out.” “Who’s that?” Ryan asks innocently. “The tickle monster!” I hold both hands up, splaying my fingers wide and tickling them both around the ribs. They burst into fits of giggles, and by the time I let up, my cheeks ache from my own wide grin.

I check the time and see it’s 9:00 a.m. in LA, meaning it’ll be one of his morning photos. Every morning, he sends photos of his view of the ocean from his back porch and tells me to have a good day, along with a random fact about jellyfish. I don’t know where this interest in jellyfish has come from because I can’t recall him ever being interested in them while we were together. He’s also started to randomly send me a coffee and some variation of baked goods for the kids via DoorDash. Because they don’t know him, they call him the cake fairy, and their sheer excitement every time there’s a knock at the door tugs on my heart more than I’d like to admit.

Then I open up the text thread with Hayden and send him the photo of the flourstrophe. I don’t know if he would be interested in this, but he said he wanted to be friends and get to know each other again, and my kids are a big part of my life. I don’t have to wait long, though, because his reply is instant. Hayden Wow… That’s… I’ve gotta say, it’s a good thing you’re good at hockey. Not sure you’ve quite mastered the baking thing. My kid praised me like I was a dog when I managed to put the mixer on the right speed. Hayden It doesn’t come as a surprise to hear your kids sound incredible. Just like their dad. Something goes weird in my chest at his words. What would happen if I opened the door and let him come into my life again? Would it be different? We’re older now. Both of us are in different stages of our lives, experienced things that have matured us.

My mind instantly goes to winters in Chicago. The snow, the frigid wind coming from the lake. If the best-case scenario in my plan does come to fruition and Jackson and I do get back together, how will I cope with my pain there? I don’t want Jackson to end up caring for me when I’m in too much pain to get out of bed. He might not even want you. You’ll be a burden to him, and he’ll end up resenting you. Do you really think he will want you around his kids? Numbness begins to replace the feeling of defeat, seeping down my body limb by limb. My eyes fixate on a mark in the muted gray carpet while my brain tries to fight off the voice. It’s not real, I tell myself. Think of the jellyfish. My vision blurs like I’m underwater, and I squeeze my eyes closed, forcing myself to picture the jellyfish in Roberta’s office. I’m aware of someone speaking, but everything becomes muffled. There’s an invisible heavy weight pressing against my chest, and my breathing spikes as my lungs struggle to inflate. Baby steps.

“Thanks, Zara.” I reach over and give her hand a squeeze. “I appreciate you.” “I know.” She winks. “Now, get out of my car because I need a big-ass coffee and an In-And-Out burger before Connor gets home from training.” I grin and push open the door. “Okay, okay. I’m going. Later.”

“I saw you had it propped up in your photo earlier. It’s not just your ACL now, is it?” “No. I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis after my third surgery. I’ve just come back from the hospital, where they told me it’s also in my hips.” “Fuck, Cas, I…” He trails off. “Fuck. I don’t know what to say to any of that. The fact you’ve had three surgeries or that you’ve got arthritis. Like, you’re thirty-nine. You’re not old.” I chuckle under my breath, trying not to think too hard about the way he slipped and used his old pet name for me so easily. The times that three-letter word would spill from his lips when I made him come. It’s a sound I’ve never forgotten. “I appreciate the compliment because I sure feel like I’m seventy-nine most days, but I started playing hockey at a very young age. And you know I wasn’t the best at listening to my body when it was telling me to rest or have a visit with the trainer.” He grunts. “You didn’t get any better at that after I left, then, huh?” “No.” I grin. “If anything, I got worse.” There’s another beat of silence, but this time, I don’t feel concerned. I can practically hear his brain digesting everything. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through all of this,” he says, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “It can’t be easy.” “It isn’t, but you know, I’ve got the California sun to ease some of the aches, and the view isn’t too bad either.” “That’s true. That’s a big perk.” He huffs a laugh, and then his voice takes on an emotion I can’t quite dec...