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In my ears.
And in my fuckin’ dreams.
Every goddamn night.
It really was driving me mad.
The smell of her hair hit me at different times during the day. Even when she wasn’t even around.
I’d swear I could smell that flowery scent—or even hear her giggle.
Every time my phone beeped or buzzed, my eyes would dash expectantly right to it. My brain wanting that constant hit of Jillian to keep me going.
And I fucking hated what a chump I was being. I hadn’t stuck to my guns at all. Not one bit.
I’d asked her to stay away. But it was like we both knew I hadn’t meant it.
Had I?
Christ.
I didn’t even know anymore.
My brain and my heart were speaking two different languages. And the translation key didn’t exist.
The only good thing was the show had mellowed out. There were more than a few times when I wondered if they’d decide to spin something a different way.
Like me showing up with a new computer for Jillian. They hadn’t aired anything about that. Although part of me really wanted to see what good old Stuart would do—or say, about another man taking care of his fiancée.
But another part of me wanted to spare Jillian from that confrontation with the douche canoe.
I continued to help Jillian with her filming. Not all the time. But a lot of the time.
Some of the episodes I recorded had another of her teammates or two helping her out with some product or new hair curling or straightening device.
The show didn’t air any of that, either.
I’d asked them not to. For many different reasons. Mostly because they’d focused on the two of us and our shit long enough. I’d sat down and spoken with a few of the producers.
I suggested they take a hiatus from the Cash Clemens and Jillian Parker dumpster fire. And focus more on the teams and the incredible shit we were doing. The women’s team continued to kick ass and take names.
Our men’s team got stronger every minute we were on the ice. It was amazing how we’d pulled together. If the hockey gods kept smiling down on us, we’d be on our way to achieving big success.
Anyway, so far, the show had complied.
And that meant I had a lot fewer gut aches.
Over the show at least.
However, my Jillian Parker problem still followed me around.
Day and night.
And it was about to get worse.
We always got a handful of days off for Christmas. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something. And this year, I’d be spending it at Lexi’s parents’ place.
With her dad and her new stepmom—who also just happened to be Trey’s mom. Yeah, the family dynamics were a little complicated.
