55. Reasons

I know I've been updating regularly, maybe too regularly for some, but I'm trying to work to a strict deadline. I wrote the final chapter last night which will go up on Sunday. On Monday I'm leaving for Malawi for two months so I really want to be finished before I go. Not as happy with this one as I was with the last one... Thank you to all you lovely people for staying with me this far!

NEW MAX STORY, BOOKED FOR LOVE



It was hard to choose just one song for this one so I settled with this: Damien Rice - Eskimo



ELLA'S POV



“Is that an invitation?” I asked playfully, trying to imagine all four Staal boys together under one roof. God, really must slow down on these, I thought as I took another look back at the bottle. Less than five percent, that’s not good, and who knows when we’ll be let out of here.

“Er, do you want it to be?” Jordy quickly replied. What a great way to put the question back on me. And I thought you were never supposed to answer a question with a question.

“Maybe,” I said taking a longer sip than was necessary, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

What was I supposed to say? Yes. Yes I want you to take me home with you to Thunder Bay right now. Or no, sorry was just curious. And the more I drank of these, the flirtier I was getting. Maybe it was something about being in a Talbot residence – it was just infectious. “Really?” Jordan asked with a certain air of surprise.

“Are your brothers hot?” I did not just say that! I scrunched my eyes closed in embarrassment, willing the ground to part and gobble me up. “Sorry, totally unnecessary,” I said, putting the drink down and pushing it away from me.

“All taken, even Marc,” Jordan said grinning. My shoulders sunk when he said that, the word all reverberating around my mind – he had already moved on and found someone else. Noah was right; he could have anyone he wanted. I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s already got another girlfriend. Part of me was jealous about the girl I didn’t know anything about. “Just me who’s not,” he added quickly. Was I really that obvious? I thought as I leaned my head back looking at the plain, white ceiling.

“Gutted,” I said jokingly trying to clear the air and pretend I had some sort of interest in his brothers.

The silence was painful as we listened to the dull beat of the music and footsteps on the ceiling above us. I wondered if Noah even noticed I was missing, he was probably enjoying himself too much in a room full of hockey players to notice. And I was supposed to drive him home as well, but it wasn’t like I had planned any of this. I had been kidnapped and forced into a basement with my good-looking ex-boyfriend.

I couldn’t deny he was good-looking; I still had the magnetic feelings of attraction to him that I had back in Acapulco. He was tanned from working outside on the sod farm and he looked relaxed and happy as he sat opposite me on the floor. No, he didn’t seem to be worried about sitting down here, trapped in the basement, I thought. I looked at the way his baby blue t-shirt hugged his body in the right places, admiring the way his biceps looked poking out of the sleeves. His ink blue jeans hugged his muscular thighs and I shivered as I thought about his muscular legs underneath.

“Ella? You ok? Cold?” Jordan’s voice snapped me back into reality as I shook my head, trying to rid my mind of the image of a naked Jordan on the opposite couch. I pulled the blanket around my shoulders and smiled across at him. We were only a couple of metres apart, but the distance felt further than it was, and in a way too close, as I could practically feel Jordan reading my dirty mind.

I swallowed and took another sip of my cold drink, begging myself not to blush as I could feel the redness seeping up my neck. “Yeah, fine,” I smiled, trying to convince myself I was. I really am fine. “Why didn’t you call me?” I asked. It had just slipped out, I had been thinking it, but it had just come out. I felt my hand slip up to my mouth to cover the obvious gape I had going on as I watched Jordan run a hand through his hair.

He let out a long sigh before he began. I didn’t take my eyes off him, I wanted to see him explaining and to read his emotions whilst he did. “It started with the loss. And my foot; it hurt, it really fucking hurt but I didn’t want to tell people, because I know there would have been a big fuss and that was the last thing we needed when we were struggling against the Habs. After the loss I was in this rut, I didn’t talk to anyone for at least a week – it felt easier just to shut down. I wasn’t just ignoring you, I was ignoring my family, Max, TK, everyone else on the team. I didn’t even go to the physio’s for at least a week.” Well at least he admits he was ignoring me.

“After that, I went and commiserated my sorrows with TK and Max. Max was spending a lot of time with Gina so mostly it was just me and TK. Getting drunk just seemed like a way of numbing the pain and forgetting about things like life in general and the fact that we had a four month summer. After winning the cup last year and then going out in the second round, it fucking hurt and we all wanted to forget about it. I didn’t talk to Sid, I didn’t want his motivational speech about ‘next year we’ll come up fighting’.”

When Jordan mentioned he hadn’t spoken to Sid I was surprised. Not only was he one of Jordan’s close friends on the team, he never shut him out, he had too much respect for him, so I knew things were bad. It still hurt that he had shut me out, but when I realised I wasn’t the only one being shut out, it didn’t hurt so much.

But Gina, she hadn’t been shut out by Max. Max had been round nearly every day and I think that’s when Gina had thrown in the towel and started with the commiseration sex. I guess Max had a different way of dealing with loss than Jordan.

“Then I packed everything up and left Pittsburgh and buried my head by working hard on the farm. It was a way to forget about our early exit from the playoffs and my foot. I hadn’t meant to not call or speak to you, I was in this stupid rut feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t even know what to do when I wasn’t on the farm. I felt haunted by the Habs and part of me was angry that we had crashed and burned like that.

“When you called I was so relieved when Tanya said you had called me. I wanted to speak to you and then after two weeks it felt like it was too late to call you and you’d be mad at me for being such a pussy and not calling you back, so I waited for you to call. Only when you called….”

“I ended it. Yeah, I know. God, Jordan, you should have just called me…” If only he had explained to me why he couldn’t pick up the phone, what he was going through after the loss, it might have been so different.

“Yeah, I fucked up, I really fucked up bad,” he said taking a long drink from his beer as if that was going to help him. “When I heard your voice, you were so angry and frustrated with me and I didn’t get a chance to explain…” Now he was making it look like it was my fault, he’d got a nerve. Like it was my fault I went awol for three weeks, incommunicado with the world for so long. I didn’t give him chance to explain but if I had, maybe things wouldn’t be this way.

If I had let him explain, maybe Max and Gina wouldn’t have gone out to Thunder Bay, maybe they wouldn’t have stopped off in Ottawa on the way back, Gina wouldn’t have been killed. Things would be so different. But I can’t play the ‘what ifs’ game.

“Hmmm…” I said trying to stall for time as I gave myself time to think. I really needed some air and some space right now and I was in the one place I couldn’t get that – the freaking basement. “I’m just going to go stretch my legs,” I said getting up and walking into the laundry room. Sitting on top of the washing machine I let out a huge sigh.

I felt so guilty for not letting Jordan explain on the phone that day in June. Nearly two months had passed and seeing him in such close proximity brought back all of those feelings I had. They had never gone away, I thought, I had just tried to forget I had felt that way.

“How you doing up there? Stretching your legs?” Jordan said as he leant in the doorway. He held out another Smirnoff ice which I gratefully took. I was supposed to be at a party, which meant drink and having a good time. And this conversation might be a little easier and less awkward if I drunk more.

I chugged most of the bottle down before placing it on top of the dryer next to me. Jordan still stood leaning in the doorway, taking up the whole frame as I stared at my feet. “Slow down,” he grinned teasingly, slowly entering the room. I gestured for him to catch up which he did, downing his beer and then wiping his mouth with his hand to remove any trace of the beer.

“Space for one more up there?” Jordan asked. I shook my head grinning. Jordan might break the washer if he tried to sit up on here too. Not to mention that I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted him in my personal space. “Not a chance,” I said grinning.

Jordan just shook his head and leaned against the opposite wall. “How long do you think it will be until Max lets us out?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. If I know Max like I think I do, maybe in the morning. He’s probably enjoying this.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Revenge is going to be so sweet for this, can’t believe he locked me in a cellar with you,” Jordan said. “Not that I mind being stuck down here with you, I really missed you in the summer.” I smiled in amusement as Jordan quickly tried to dig himself out of the little hole he had made.

I felt a pang when he said those three words, as I realised how much I had missed him too. I would be lying if I said I didn’t. I looked across at him, looking at those blue eyes, realising how much he had meant to me. Should I say it? Would it matter if I did? Would those three words change anything? Would it just make the situation more awkward if I did? I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes as I let the words out. “I missed you too,” I said slowly, opening my eyes after I said it, quickly lowering them, embarrassed by what I had just admitted.

I briefly looked up, noticing the look of delight on his features. I took a swig of my nearly finished drink as I wondered what to do with myself. “You have no idea how much I missed you,” Jordan said. My heartbeat quickened as I thought the same way. Cocking my head to the side a little, I replied, “Tell me.”

“Can I show you?” What did I say to that? The fuzzy, drunk part of my brain was screaming ‘YES!’ whilst the more rational, sober part of my mind told me not to. Even if he kissed me right now, what would happen after? Another few long hours in this boring basement as we avoided the awkwardness of the situation? That would be pure, agonising hell.

The seconds I used seemed to take longer as I paused, thinking over the decision. Would a kiss change anything? Yes. But how? I wasn't sure. It was one of those things I couldn't predict. Or would it change everything? More than likely. Did I want anything to change? Not sure. What did it mean to Jordan? I don't know. Did it have the same consequences for him as it would for me? Again I wasn't sure. Would we be on the same page afterwards? Who knows.

Too many questions flitted through my mind as I sat staring at my knees, struggling to find answers for those questions, as I turned the bottle in my hands, not knowing what to say. It was a simple yes or no question, something I should be able to answer. Yet the situation felt too intense and too pressured for me to know the answer. If only I had time and space and a piece of paper so I could go through this logically, more rationally and not in a basement.

Apparently I had taken too long to answer as Jordan stepped between my legs, putting one strong hand on my knee and pressed his lips gently to mine.