Page 95 of Surviving Raine (Surviving Raine 1)
As I walk to work, I feel like I’m floating on air. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Am I falling for Jack? It feels like it, but I need to be careful. I have a lot riding on this internship, and I can’t afford to let anything distract me from my goal.
***
I lean forward in my seat, my gaze trained on the ice as Sam passes the puck to Jack. The crowd erupts into cheers, and I hold my breath in anticipation. Jack weaves through the opposing team’s defense with the puck, his movements fluid and graceful. He winds up, taking the shot, but the puck ricochets off the goalie’s pads, and the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game.
“Dammit.” Jack slams his stick against the ice in frustration.
The Firebirds lost the charity exhibition match against the Arizona Scorpions, but it was all for a good cause—raising money for the local children’s hospital. Still, the competitive fire burns bright in Jack’s eyes as he skates off the rink, his jaw clenched tight.
A couple of hours later, the team gathers at their usual haunt, Shooter’s Bar & Grill, to unwind after the game. The lively atmosphere does little to lift Jack’s sour mood as he nurses a beer, scowling into the depths of his glass.
“Cheer up, man.” Sam claps him on the shoulder. “It was just an exhibition match.”
Jack shrugs him off, his expression thunderous. “I should’ve made that shot.”
Before I can interject, a raucous shout cuts through the din of the crowded bar. “Hey, Ford! Where’s our money, you bum?”
I turn to see two burly men swaggering toward our table, their faces flushed from too many drinks.
“You cost us big time with that missed shot,” slurs one of them, jabbing a meaty finger in Jack’s direction.
Jack’s nostrils flare, and he rises from his seat, towering over the hecklers. “Back off, fellas. It was a charity game, and I’m sure not responsible if you were dumb enough to bet on a hockey game.”
The other man snorts derisively. “Tell that to our bookie. We had money riding on you, hotshot.”
Tension crackles in the air, and I instinctively reach for Jack’s arm, trying to diffuse the situation. “Jack, ignore them. They’re just drunk and bitter about losing their bets.”
He shrugs me off, his jaw tightening. “Stay out of this, Elyse.”
The drunken hecklers take his dismissal as an invitation to continue their taunts.
“What’s the matter, Ford? Can’t handle a little criticism?”
“Maybe he’s getting too old for this game.”
Jack’s fists clench at his sides, and the muscle in his jaw twitches. Before he can respond, Sam intervenes, stepping between Jack and the hecklers.
“All right, that’s enough. Time for you two to leave.”
The hecklers grumble but eventually back down and stumble away from our table when the rest of the team stands up. Jack slumps back into his seat, his shoulders tense.
“You okay, man?” asks Sam, his brow furrowed with concern.
Jack waves him off, taking a long pull from his beer. “I’m fine.”
His clipped tone says otherwise, and I wonder if there’s more to his reaction than just the missed shot and the hecklers’ taunts. Leaning closer, I keep my voice low.
“Jack, is everything alright?”
His head whips around, and he fixes me with a glare that could freeze hellfire. “I said I’m fine. Just drop it.”
The venom in his words stings, and I flinch as if he’s slapped me. Hurt and confusion war within me, but I bite my tongue, unwilling to escalate the situation. The rest of the evening passes in tense silence, the earlier camaraderie evaporating like mist in the morning sun. As we file out of the bar later, he stalks ahead, his broad shoulders hunched, and hands shoved deep into his pockets.
Sam falls into step beside me, his expression apologetic. “Don’t take it personally, Els. Jack’s just in a foul mood. There’s a reason people call him Mr. Grumpy behind his backsometimes.” He winks at me, though his gaze still reflects concern.
I force a tight smile, but the sting of his rebuke lingers. “It’s fine. I’m just worried about him.”
He drapes an arm around my shoulders, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “He’ll be all right. Jack’s always been a brooder, but he’ll snap out of it eventually.”