Page 37 of Remember Me

“Good lord, what in the thirst trap is this?” I hear Alyssa say from across the table, and judging by the putrid look on her face, it isn’t something good.

We’ve not long been back from my PT and therapy session. I ache like a bitch, but I need to crack on with some admin for work and Alyssa offered to make me some posts for socials.

We’re taking a quick coffee and cake break because who doesn’t function better on more caffeine and sugar?

“What are you looking at?” I ask her, curious as to what has got her face looking like she’s about to throw up any minute.

“My brother seems to now be posting videos of himself all over Instagram thrusting and gyrating across the ice. I feel sick, who the actual fuck wants to see that? It’s just wrong. Surely he can’t be that desperate for the puck bunnies’ attention. They will be all over this like flies on shit. I need to go and bleach my eyeballs right now!”

“Eugh, puck bunnies are the worst!”

My nose wrinkles in disgust. I’ve seen them parading around the rink when I’ve watched the guys play. Jake must have been there, but I can’t picture him. It's still too hazy.

“Yep, literally the definition of a hoe in a hockey jersey, if you can call the cropped piece of material on them a jersey. All they care about is getting in the players’ pants, and they don't care who they are. I wouldn't trust those gold diggers as far as I could throw them.”

“I couldn’t think of anything worse than parading myself around like some sort of barbie doll in the hopes of bagging a player,” I agree as I snag another piece of cake from my plate.

Whilst Alyssa’s consumed by emails, I sneak a peek at Jake’s Instagram to see what all the fuss was about and….wow. That’s the only word I have for what I am witnessing on my screen. I’m transfixed; the guy on my screen glides across the ice so sensually it looks like it’s a private show meant just for the viewer. There’s no one else in the shot, and I can’t look away. Jake looks directly at the camera, and the eye contact he is giving is so intense it’s like he’s staring right into my soul. I feel my face heating the longer I watch, but like a moth drawn to a flame, I can’t make myself stop. I wonder who he made this for? I can almost hear myself snarl, and the overwhelming feeling of the green-eyed monster hits me like a punch to the gut, so much so I swear I can actually feel it. This crush is going to be the death of me.

“You ok?” Alyssa questions with her eyebrows raised. “You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine. Just a little hot, that’s all. Aren’t you hot? God, it’s like the earth's core in here,” I ramble. I can literally feel the sweat trickling down my back.

“I mean, it’s a little warm,” she eyes me skeptically. “Let’s go sit on the terrace and cool off.”

Grabbing my crutches as Alyssa grabs Bella’s bed and a jug of lemonade from the fridge, we take a seat on the terrace and watch the waves crashing in front of us.

A little while later, hockey's very own Channing Tatum returns, and I can’t even look him in the eye. I feel like I intruded on a private moment, even though it was posted very publicly, and I can’t unsee it.

“Hey, Lotts, how’s your day been?” he asks as he gives me a side hug.

Droplets of water fall onto my forehead from his damp hair and I breathe him in. He smells fresh and clean like soap and just Jake. His black T-shirt is tight to his biceps, and I can see those beautiful tattoos on full display. My gaze travels further down, noticing the grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. I’ve read about them in numerous books but have never had the pleasure of witnessing a man in them for myself, and I very much see the appeal. What is going on with me today?

I’ve never really had these feelings before, never been turned on by a man or thought about wanting to rip his clothes off. But right now, all I want to do is strip Jake naked and do…well I don't know what I’d do—I think I’d enjoy seeing it, though. My body is tingling all over and this is such a new sensation for me that I’m taken aback. Or am I? Something is niggling at me. I’ve felt this way about someone before, but again, it’s just not coming to me. I must be imagining it.

“Mmhmm, great,” is all I can muster up to say whilst nodding like one of those dogs you see stuck to a car dashboard. Get a grip, Charlotte. The look he’s giving me suggests he doesn't believe me, but he lets it go.

“What do you want for dinner tonight? I got some halloumi while I was out and thought about making halloumi and bell pepper kebabs to cook on the grill—we could eat alfresco?” he says, looking at me hopefully.

“Sounds great.” Yep, great. Nice and cozy outside when I feel like I'm on fire with him literally fifty yards away, let alone with him all up in my business on the terrace. This is going to be a long night.

I’m brushing my teeth the next morning when Jake comes bounding in like an overexcited puppy.

“Woah, what’s going on?” I splutter around a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Come outside as soon as you’re done.”

That’s it. That’s all he says and then he’s gone again like a whirlwind. Intrigued, I head outside as quickly as someone can go on crutches to find my laptop set up on the table with YouTube open, chairs rearranged, and my journal ready to go.

“Welcome to chair yoga!”

What the…he actually researched this?

“I thought we could do this together and then I could make your chamomile tea whilst you meditate. Then after, I’ll head off to the gym for a bit whilst you journal. Sound good?”

He’s thought it all out, I’m so overwhelmingly grateful right now. Keep it together, Charlotte.

“Jake, thank you, I don’t know what to say.”