A phone call to Ella and babysitting arrangements were made. Ella volunteered to come to my house with Lucy and stay the entire time, since this was Lucy’s first time and she was a little nervous. But ultimately, they invited Felicity to come to their house and have a slumber party of sorts with Lucy, to make it fun for both of them, meeting for the first time. Felicity, who is forever my adventurer and social butterfly, was beyond excited to have a big girl sleepover away from our house.
“Jenna,” I yell from the master bath, knowing my voice will carry through to the hallway and guest bathroom not too far away. Last I saw she was putting waves in her hair with a round iron. “You ready?”
No answer so I don’t bother calling again. I check my lip gloss, turn my head side to side to make sure my makeup passes muster, and put on a spritz of my favorite perfume. We didn’t go to the game tonight, but we did watch most of it on TV until it was time to get ready to go.
I wanted to be there to watch Jett in person, but I have to be frugal as to which games I go to. As a single mom, I simply can’t afford to buy those pricey tickets often, even given my employee discount.
As much as I love the Vengeance, the point of this evening is to hang out with Jett and the team at their favorite bar and start integrating into this family dynamic that’s been fostered by the owner.
I flip off the bathroom light, grab my purse off the dresser and exit my room. I find Jenna in the bathroom as I had anticipated, but she’s just staring at herself in the mirror, much the way I had just been doing.
Except I didn’t have that expression.
One of anxiety and doubt.
“Oh no you don’t,” I say, moving in quickly beside her. I loop my arm over her shoulder and grab her gaze in the mirror. “You are not going to start doubting yourself.”
“It’s not myself I doubt,” she mutters. “But the humanity of others.”
My stomach clenches from the pain in her voice. If all of the pain and suffering she’s been through from her burns isn’t bad enough, she’s had to endure stares of pity and disgust. She’s had people whisper about her, refuse to make eye contact, and even abandon her.
If anyone has reason to mistrust, it’s her.
But she has to keep confronting the hard to get to the good. I believe there are far more people out there who will accept her—scars and all—than those who don’t.
I need her to see it for herself, so I will never stop pushing her.
“You’re coming with me tonight and I’m not going to hear another word about it,” I say fiercely.
“Why?” she demands, a spark of fight in her eyes.
“Because you need to open yourself up,” I explain, squeezing her shoulder in encouragement. “You need to take chances and risks. Stop hiding behind your fears.”
Unease fills my veins as I see triumph flash across her expression. “So it’s okay for me to have to open myself up and take chances, but those same ideals don’t apply to you?”
My face flushes hot and Jenna snickers. “It’s not the same.”
“It’s completely the same.” She all-out laughs at me now, but not in a mean-spirited way. “You want me to put myself out there? Fine. I want you to put yourself out there with Jett.”
“There is nothing wrong with us doing casual,” I say primly.
“I agree,” she drawls, turning to face me. “Except you like him more than just for casual sex.”
“And you know this how?” I ask suspiciously.
Jenna rolls her eyes. “You have about a hundred tells but it’s the way you talk about him, the glimmer in your eye, the eagerness with which I saw you watching the clock tonight, and the ferocity by which you’ve harassed me to come with you tonight because you’re too afraid to be alone with him in a public setting.”
Before I can even shoot down her theory, she adds, “Besides… if it was just sex, you wouldn’t have agreed to go to The Sneaky Saguaro and would have just gone to his condo.”
Hmmm. She’s not wrong.
She’s not entirely right either.
Regardless, I see this as an opportunity because no matter what she’s said, I’m going to The Sneaky Saguaro with or without her since I accepted Jett’s offer. I am not beyond using the leverage on her.
“Okay,” I say, my mind spinning with calculation. “You come with me tonight and put yourself out there to make new friends. And I’ll open myself up to the possibility—”
Jenna’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction.
“I said ‘possibility’,” I reiterate firmly. “Of something more than just casual with Jett.”
“Deal,” she says, a little too fast for my benefit. I feel like I’ve been hoodwinked, but I’m not too worried about it. Opening myself up to Jett is purely subjective. I don’t have to do anything with him I’m not comfortable with.
I’m not going to lie, the possibility of something more with Jett is intriguing because every day that goes by—whether we’re having sex or just talking—I find myself liking him more and more.
♦
I’ve been living in Phoenix just over a month and there is so much to explore and try.
The Sneaky Saguaro, however, is not unknown to me. Before I even knew it was the preferred hangout of the Arizona Vengeance, Jenna, Felicity, and I had lunch here one day. It’s a fun atmosphere with a behemoth saguaro cactus rising up through the middle of the restaurant, straight up to the second-floor landing.
It’s a different vibe at night though. Gone are the families with kids gorging on platters of tacos and bowls of queso. Filled now with adults, mostly Vengeance fans, wearing their jerseys or clothing in the signature green, blue and silver team colors. You’ve got the married couples who are out on their date night to cheer on their favorite hockey team, groups of rowdy guys drunk on victory and sports, the puck bunnies—a term that I actually learned from Jett in one of our “after sex talks” about hockey—dressed scantily and looking to hook up with a team player or another handsome dude who shares a passion for the sport.
It’s festive and the mood is alive with energy, which would be a given considering the Vengeance won over the New York Phantoms tonight.
Jett was exactly where he said he’d be, on the second floor to the left of the staircase. The area is roped-off by the restaurant management and encompasses about seven tables reserved for players and their guests. The entire team doesn’t come out to celebrate every time, but all seven tables are filled when we arrive and there are several more people standing around talking and laughing. Fans wait outside the roped-off area for players to take photos or sign autographs. If you’re a lucky puck bunny who catches the eye of one of the single players, you will be brought inside the velvet ropes and made part of the team for the night.
I find it both amusing and sad at the same time for those women, but I think it’s mainly because I can’t understand it. My wild fun phase in college lasted barely a year before I settled down, and I can’t envision myself wearing skin-baring clothing to a hockey game and then trying to sleep with one of the players.
Jett met us when we came up the stairs and brought us into the inner circle. Of course, I know all of the players, having met each one on at least one occasion to discuss social media, and have since seen several of them around either while working out or when they’re visiting the executive offices for some reason.