Sucked Into Love Read online

  Sucked Into Love

  Rochelle Paige

  Copyright © 2014 Rochelle Paige

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Mickey Reed

  Cover designed by Josh Kampmeier

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons or living or dead, events or locals are entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ Use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  Midian –

  Your grit and determination are to be admired.

  Your hatred of most book heroines is to be feared.

  Your input is to be given great consideration.

  But your support? It’s irreplaceable.

  chapter 1

  Josie

  I was startled by the feelings of nostalgia that hit me as I made my way up the steps of my childhood home. My safe haven for the first fourteen years of my life—back when I’d been naïve and thought I was invincible. Before I’d learned that life could be cruel and the people you love the most could shatter your trust. I glanced behind me to look outside as I walked through the door, and the image of the police officers standing there when they’d come to tell my dad and me that my mom had been in an accident was etched in my brain.

  That was the moment when everything had changed. This house had become the place where I watched my dad struggle to adjust during those short summer months before I started high school. And then where I’d so desperately wanted to stay when my dad had delivered his bombshell. He’d decided that it would be best to send me to boarding school one hundred thirty miles away from home. Away from him, my friends and any comfort that would have helped me learn to deal with my loss. But he hadn’t seemed to care about how I’d dealt with my mom’s death since he’d been too wrapped up in his own pain.

  The transition to high school was difficult enough for any teenager without suffering such a loss and being shipped off to a school that had strict rules, tough academics, and no friends from home. At first, the only solace I found was on the ice. It was where I felt the closest to my mom and could lose myself as I threw everything I was into my training. I never would have survived that first year without my ice skating.

  Once the school year was over, I was stunned to learn that my dad had packed my calendar full of activities. Private sessions, summer camps, and competitions. It seemed like an endless cycle he had created so he didn’t have to see me. Didn’t have to deal with the fact that I was the spitting image of my mom – the woman he’d loved to distraction. And the person, I was convinced, he thought my skating had killed because she’d been out picking up my costume for a competition when the accident had happened. As much as I loved to skate, I felt like he was using it to punish me for her death. But I couldn’t see it that way since she had loved skating almost more than I did. So I steeled myself against the pain and threw myself into my training.

  Until I found myself cast adrift once again, unable to skate competitively anymore due to a knee injury I received during one of those summer camps that refused to heal properly. My punishment was complete. I lost my coping mechanism—the one thing that connected me to my mom. Even though my dad had picked Brower because of their coaching staff, he still wasn’t willing to let me come home. He’d changed during the year I was away, becoming someone I barely knew. My adoring father had turned into a bitter, angry man who no longer looked at me with love in his eyes.

  I couldn’t bear the accusation I saw staring back at me whenever I managed to meet his gaze in the rare times we were together. So I didn’t argue about returning to school even though I knew it would never be the same. I spent so much time on the ice last year that I didn’t really get to know anyone on campus besides the other skaters who were just like I was – too busy for friendships.

  It was another twist of fate that saved me from the oblivion that awaited me my sophomore year. Two, actually. The first was Cecily Thompson. She was a transfer to the school and assigned to be my new roommate. She blew into our room like a whirlwind with her parents and brothers helping her after I was already settled in. She was flat-out gorgeous with startling, green eyes, long, fiery locks, and a creamy, blemish-free complexion, and she was dressed in the latest fashion. She looked like she’d stepped out of a Disney movie or something, and my life was completely the opposite of that. I was instantly convinced that we were going to hate each other—and she was just as equally certain that we were going to be best friends for life. Luckily, she won that battle.

  During the course of our friendship, I learned that Cee-Cee won most battles. Especially the early ones, like when she insisted that, since her nickname was Cee-Cee, everyone should start calling me Josie instead of Jocelyn. She thought our names sounded better together that way. She also refused to let me pine away in our room, and she dragged me to every campus event she possibly could. Eventually, she even managed to convince me to go to an open skate session so I could show her my moves.

  I wasn’t able to skate competitively, but I still looked good on the ice. And that’s where the second twist of fate came into play. One that would change my life forever.

  Cee-Cee started up a conversation with the trainer who helped the school’s ice hockey teams. She chatted him up because he was a hot twenty-something guy and she was shameless, but when I skated over and she introduced me, nobody could have known that that moment would spark my career path.

  And now here I was, returning to my hometown with all my belongings packed into my car to move back into the house I’d eventually figured I’d never live in again and hoped it would only be for a short time now. I just received my Doctorate in Physical Therapy and had an interview next week at the local minor league hockey team. One I was convinced I would nail because I was uniquely positioned to understand the needs of hockey players. My years spent on the ice as a child and the time I’d spent helping school teams over the years would come in handy now. Plus, it didn’t hurt that I had a friend back from my Brower days who had been drafted to play for them a couple of years ago and told me about the job in the first place.

  The house was quiet. My dad had let me know that he had to go out of town for a couple of weeks, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if he’d scheduled his trip for my return in the hope that I’d get the job and find an apartment while he was gone. His text telling me he would be gone had crushed the small amount of hope I’d had that things would be different now that I was grown.

  The trill of my cell phone pulled me out of my woolgathering. I dropped the bags I’d been holding and grabbed my phone out of my purse. As I glanced at the screen, I wasn’t surprised to see that it was Cee-Cee calling me. She had been beyond thrilled when I’d told her I was moving back to Chicago since she had just taken a job with a PR firm here.

  “Hey,” I answered after connecting the call. “Do you have a tracking device on me I don’t know about?”

  “Nope. Just BFSP,” she retorted.

  “BFSP?” I asked even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the heck she was talking about.

  I heard Cee-Cee’s laughter filter through the line. “Best Friend Sensory Perception. So be warned, because
I know what’s going on with you even before you do.”

  “How in the world do you come up with this stuff? And why does it actually make sense?” I replied.

  “You know I’m always right, Jo-Jo,” she teased.

  “Ugh, except when you use that blasted nickname,” I complained. “You know I hate it. Anything but that!”

  The silence on the other end of the line worried me. A silent Cee-Cee was usually a plotting one and almost never meant anything good for me. “I promise to never, ever call you Jo-Jo again if you’ll do me a teeny tiny favor.”

  “What’s the favor?” I demanded.

  “Now, don’t say it like that. You make it sound like I’m going to ask you to go to prison for me or something,” she grumbled.

  “Like that’s out of the question? There was that time you asked me to be your alibi,” I reminded her.

  Cee-Cee gasped in outrage. “You didn’t even have to talk to the cops for God’s sake!”

  “But I would have if they’d come calling,” I retorted.

  “And that’s why you’re my best friend. But if you’ll recall, I decided against keying the douchebag’s car, so nobody would have come knocking on your door anyway,” she pointed out.

  I thanked my lucky stars that she hadn’t done anything stupid back when she’d finally dumped her college boyfriend. I’d never been quite sure what she had seen in him except that he was hot. They really hadn’t had very much in common. Cee-Cee had a plan for her life and was willing to work for what she wanted, but he’d been content to do nothing related to school or work. He’d had a free ride to our school with a football scholarship and acted like the world owed him everything—and like Cee-Cee should have been thankful that he was willing to date her. Douchebag wasn’t a strong enough word for him, and I was happy that she was finally free of him, but it hurt to watch the effect it had on her dating life. He’d taught her not to trust after she’d spent so much time listening to all the negative things he’d had to say about her, and she didn’t let guys get too close emotionally anymore.

  “I think we lost track of our conversation somewhere. What was the favor you wanted to ask me?”

  “Soooooo,” she drawled. “There’s this nightclub downtown.”

  “Of course there is,” I said.

  “The Box,” she continued. “It’s the hottest place in town, and I have the chance to pitch to the owner next week.”

  “You want me to go to a club called The Box?” I snickered.

  “Josie,” she huffed. “Get your mind out of the gutter. That’s my job. The guy used to play hockey.”

  The light bulb went off in my head as I got the play on words. “That’s actually pretty clever since I’m sure most people’s thoughts drift down the same path I took.”

  “Nah. He’s famous enough around town that they know what he meant when he picked the name. The newspapers are always running stories about him because he owns a bunch of bars and restaurants and played here in town before he got injured,” she explained.

  Her words stirred sympathy inside me. On the surface, it seemed like the man she’d described and I had nothing in common. I was a newly graduated physical therapist looking for a job and he was the rich playboy with the world in the palm of his hand. But I knew the agony he must have felt when his hockey career was sidelined because of an injury. It was heartening to think that he had turned his loss into a hospitality empire while I’d turned mine into a mission to help other hockey players so they didn’t suffer the same fate. In a way, it made me feel connected to him.

  “And that’s why you’ve just got to do it,” Cee-Cee continued, and I realized that I’d completely missed what she was asking me to do while my mind had drifted.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “Can you repeat that?”

  Cee-Cee growled at me in frustration. “Weren’t you listening at all?” she complained. “I have the chance to pitch to his nightclub for the firm. It’s unheard of for someone as new as I am to get this chance, especially since his club is the it place right now. But he’s looking to grow his bachelorette party business and my boss figured I’m the closest thing to the target market on this one, so he’s giving me a chance.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” I congratulated her. “But I don’t get how I can help you with your pitch.”

  “I need to get a better feel for what the experience is like at the club,” she explained.

  I felt a moment’s relief that she was just asking me to go out for a night on the town with her. “Oh, sure. Let’s plan on going there tomorrow night then?”

  “You really need to learn to pay closer attention when I’m talking,” Cee-Cee grumbled.

  “So you don’t want me to go to the club with you?” I wanted to know, confused by what I could have possibly missed.

  “Yes, but it needs to be tonight,” she clarified. “And for a bachelorette party.”

  “Who’s getting married?” I asked, hoping that it at least was someone I knew.

  Her moment of silence should have warned me that I wasn’t going to like the answer. “You are.”

  “What?!” I shrieked. “I’m not getting married!”

  “Not married married. I just need you to be the bachelorette for the party,” she replied, but her response didn’t make any sense to me.

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “You want me to come to a bachelorette party you are throwing at the hottest nightclub downtown. And I’m the guest of honor? So you’ll be better prepared to pitch your company’s services to the owner?”

  “Yes, exactly,” she agreed.

  “But that’s just crazy.”

  Cee-Cee sighed deeply. “Let me make this easier for you. Are you my best friend in the whole wide world?”

  “You know I am.”

  “And do you want me to do well at my job?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” I answered, even knowing that she was about to back me into a corner just like she always did.

  “Then please, please, please help me,” she begged. “The only way I’m going to feel prepared for this presentation is if I get an inside peek into what it’s like to be at a bachelorette party at The Box. And I can’t do that without a bachelorette. Since I don’t happen to have one lying around, I need you to help me out here. Please.”

  Cee-Cee had come up with plenty of crazy adventures for us in the past, but I never thought I’d hear her beg me to be a fake bachelorette. “You’re going to throw a pretend party?”

  “Oh, it will be real enough. It’s just that everyone there will think we’re celebrating your last night as a single woman when we’re really scoping out the place and enjoying our first time to hang out now that we live in the same city again.”

  “You do know you’re crazy right?” I asked. “I’m a horrible liar.”

  “You won’t have to do a thing except dress the part, drink free shots, and have loads of fun,” she promised.

  When she put it like that, she made it sound so reasonable. This was why she always got her way. She was so darn persuasive when she wanted to be. And persistent. Which was just about all the time.

  “Fine, but if someone asks hard questions about my fiancé or our wedding, you better be there to answer them.”

  “Woohoo! I knew I could count on you,” she crowed. “I’ll be there in an hour to pick you up.”

  “Help me get ready, you mean,” I teased.

  “That too,” she agreed before hanging up.

  ****

  By the time Cee-Cee made it to my house, I’d brought all my stuff inside and unpacked. It was very strange to be back in a room I’d last decorated when I was a preteen. I hoped that I got the job so I could move out soon. With my dad avoiding me like this, it would be a good thing to have space of my own. Besides which, I was an adult, so it was time for me to move out now that I’d graduated from college.

  Luckily, I’d also grabbed a quick shower and dried my hair because it had been a long drive. The idea of hitting
a club after having been in the car all day without cleaning up grossed me out. Seeing as Cee-Cee was the world’s least patient person, odds were heavily against her waiting around while I took one after she got here.

  “Jo-Jo!” she squealed before wrapping me into a big hug. “Damn, I missed having you around. Why did you want to stay in school an extra three years again?”

  “Gah! Enough with that dreadful nickname,” I grumbled as I hugged her back tight. This was the kind of warm welcome I’d so desperately needed but hadn’t gotten from my dad. “And you know I didn’t really want to stay in school for so long, but I would never get a job working with athletes without a graduate degree.”

  “I know, I know. But at least you’re done now and ready to take on a bunch of overgrown lugs as soon as they hire you to work for the Cavaliers,” she offered.

  “Overgrown lugs?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in inquiry, since it was very unlike her to say. She’d always gone for the athletic guys back in school, so it was weird hearing her talk like that.

  “There’s this guy,” Cee-Cee started. “Hot. I met him last weekend and there was just something there. It was different than any other guy I’ve met before. I don’t know how to explain what happened.”

  “And?” I wanted her to continue because what she’d said hadn’t explained her sarcasm.

  “And nothing. He’d be perfect for me…except he’s younger.”

  “So you didn’t want to rob the cradle?” I teased and then immediately felt guilty when I saw tears well up in her pretty, green eyes. I was stunned as one slid down her cheek. Cee-Cee rarely cried, and I wasn’t sure what to think. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She swept the lone tear away and offered me a small smile. “It’s not even that. He’s only a few years younger than I am, and I’d have no problem with the age difference except that it means he isn’t ready for a real relationship and I am.”