The Dating Tutor: Alec's Story (4 page)

Her apprehension was for naught. Even without accessories or make-up the dress was very complimentary. It accentuated soft curves he hadn’t realized she’d been hiding behind t-shirts and sweaters. He’d seen her in shorts dozens of times, but he’d never noticed how shapely her legs were until now. The dress even made her feet look delicate and feminine. “Wow,” he said, voice low and full of appreciation. He moved closer, his eyes appraising her from head to toe, once again taking in the amazing transformation. “Add some make-up and you’ll actually look like a girl.”

She gave him a less than amused look. “Thanks.”

He shrugged a shoulder carelessly and started in her direction. Upon reaching her, he hooked a finger into the neckline of her dress and peeked inside. “And the bra did wonders. I’m serious, El. You look pretty foxy.”

Her cheeks flushed at his compliment. “I’m more comfortable feeling like one of the guys,” she admitted.

Alec winked. “Trust me,” he said, voice thick with suggestive meaning, “Jake will be happy you’re not.”

She rewarded him with a dirty look.

Laughing, he smacked her across the backside and backed out of the dressing room. “Now get dressed so you can pay for that. Next, we’re shopping for shoes.”

* * * *

The instant he opened the front door, Alec realized his father had been drinking. It had happened so often in the past eight years that the signs were instantly recognizable. The blaring television. The stink of tobacco. And the photos… Any pictures of his mother were taken down when his father drank. Alec had stopped putting most of them back up after a while. Only one had remained in the front hall, but it was missing now, too.

With a sigh, he ran a hand over his face. He knew it was probably hoping for too much that he could get into the kitchen and grab some dinner without running into his father.

Hefting his equipment bag higher on his shoulder, he tiptoed into the kitchen as quietly as he could. Maybe his father wouldn’t realize he was home and Alec could get upstairs with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without being noticed.

Gently placing his bag on the ground by the door, he crossed the room to the cupboards. Pulling out half a loaf of bread, he tossed it to the counter before pulling out the jelly and a nearly depleted jar of peanut butter.

He was just putting the last thing away when the door to the kitchen flew open and smacked against the wall. He flinched and froze in place. His father. Fantastic. Knowing there was no avoiding it now, he turned to face an older version of himself. “I was just heading upstairs,” he said stiffly.

Jerich Horner narrowed bleary eyes. “Where the hell have you been? It’s late.”

Not late enough
, Alec thought with a glance at the clock. “I had practice after school. Then Ellie and I—”

“Practice,” his father interrupted with a scathing snort. “Practice.” Reaching out a foot, he gave Alec’s equipment bag a kick. “I don’t know why you waste your time with this garbage.” He shook his head and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “You’re a goon, son. Nothing more. Good schools don’t hand out scholarships to muscle. They’re looking for talent. You need to stop wasting your time.”

Alec’s jaw clenched so tightly he thought he might break a tooth. He tried to be understanding with his father, he really did, but sometimes he was just…such an ass. Jerich Horner had been handed more than his fair share of crappy cards in life; Alec wouldn’t argue that. He’d been a professional hockey player, but it had been far from glamorous. He’d spent most of his career in the minors, scraping to get a solid roster spot in the NHL. He’d managed to do that in Vancouver for a few years before being sent back down. He’d been traded half a dozen times before retiring.

Jerich had retired to give his family a more steady home life, one where he wasn’t bouncing in and out of the picture. He’d wanted to be there for his wife. He’d wanted to be there to help raise Alec.

Not six months later, Alec’s mother had wrecked her car on the way home from work. On top of being recently unemployed, Jerich had lost his wife. Their family slowly began to crumble. Though he found work, Alec’s father had been bitter. He’d taken to drinking. And nine-year-old Alec had felt like a nasty reminder of his father’s pain. He’d felt in the way.

For the past eight years, the two of them had danced on the lines of a love/hate relationship. When Jerich was sober, he wasn’t all that bad. He was supportive, optimistic, and fun to be around. On the flip side, when he was drunk, he was bitter and hurtful. He’d given his life to hockey and felt it had given him nothing in return. So yeah, he was bitter.

Alec tried not to let this affect his love of the game. He tried not to let his father’s failures influence his outlook for his own future. He tried to be understanding, but even he had a breaking point.

Tossing his freshly made sandwich into the trash, Alec calmly placed his plate in the sink. Another night with no dinner. He didn’t have an appetite any longer after listening to his father’s criticism. “I’m going to bed.”

Jerich nodded at the equipment bag in the doorway. “Take this trash up with you. I won’t have it cluttering up the house.”

More like he didn’t want the reminder of the career he’d given up, the sport he’d never been quite good enough at. Alec made a sound of disgust and stalked over to the bag. Snatching it up, he pushed out the kitchen doorway without a comment. It wasn’t worth it. No good ever came from arguing with his father when he was drunk.

Alec was up the stairs and in his bedroom with the door locked before the burning sensation in his eyes registered. He blinked back the angry tears and threw the bag across the room. It hit his desk and fell with a thump to the floor.

Jerich was more than likely passed out on the couch again, too wrapped up in his own misery to notice the sound.

Alec stood in the center of his bedroom, arms at his sides, hands balled into fists. He sucked in a few shuddering breaths that did little to ebb his despondency. He silently assured himself that he was good at hockey. He could get a scholarship.

He wasn’t his father. Even if he struggled in the minors his entire future career, he’d still be playing the game. He wouldn’t be bitter and resentful. He would be grateful for any level of recognition of his talent.

With a frustrated growl, he crossed the room and pulled open the drawer of his bedside nightstand. Inside laid a framed photo of his mother. She was holding him on her lap, and the two of them were laughing at some unknown joke. They both looked so happy, so carefree.

He sank to the edge of the bed, the photo held reverently between his hands. “He hasn’t ever gotten over you,” he tearfully told the woman in the photograph. “He never…” He wiped tears away from his eyes with the back of his hand. “I just wish you could tell me what to do.”

A soft sob escaped him that he attempted to muffle even further. He did not want his father to hear him crying. He could not sit here weeping over a memory long gone. Wallowing in self-pity wasn’t healthy.

He needed out of this house.

The decision made, Alec climbed swiftly to his feet. He tucked the framed picture back into his nightstand before yanking his shirt over his head. He needed out of the house for the night. He needed away from his spiteful father and the memory of his mother.

He’d had a shower at the school, so he was clean enough until morning. Yanking open his top dresser drawer, Alec pulled out a white cotton t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He then stripped out of his jogging shorts, the only thing he’d put on his lower body after practice.

He didn’t even bother grabbing boxers. He simply snatched up a pair of flannel pajama pants and yanked them up over his hips. Next he stuffed his bare feet into his sneakers and crept across the room to the window.

Not hesitating, he swung a leg over the windowsill and dropped down into the darkness below. He landed easily on his feet and started off in the direction of Ellie’s house. Without needing light to aid him, he tiptoed through the yard and hopped the fence to her yard.

Ellie’s bedroom light was off, but he knew she would understand if he woke her. After all, this wasn’t the first time he’d snuck in her bedroom window to get away from his father.

Making his way across the yard, he grabbed one of the low hanging branches of the tree right outside Ellie’s window and swung himself up. He knew the tree outside her window like the back of his hand, and before long, he was inching carefully across a thick branch that would get him close enough to climb inside the house.

Reaching a hand out, he eased the window open and crept carefully inside. He crawled across the top of her desk, being cautious not to tip anything off onto the floor. The last thing he needed was to wake her mother up and have the poor woman thinking…

He shook his head at this. It wasn’t like that; it had never been like that. It was just that things were so easy with Ellie, and he didn’t have to explain why he was here to her. She knew, but she didn’t make a big deal about it.

Lowering his feet to the floor, he crossed the room. He saw her eyelashes flutter open and recognition enter the green depths of her eyes, but she remained soundless. Silent as well, he kicked out of his unlaced sneakers and climbed into bed beside her.

Ellie didn’t speak. She never did. Without a word, she shifted over to make room for him.

Alec repositioned himself closer to the center of the bed and pulled the blanket up over his waist. His shoulders were tense and his movements stiff. He knew he was in a place where he could let everything go, but his father’s cruel words were still replaying in his head. They were like leeches burrowing deep inside his mind.

As he stared up at the ceiling in hateful silence, Ellie let out a little sigh. She scooted closer to him in the bed, her cold toes brushing his ankle as she placed her head on his shoulder in a message of silent support.

He reached out and patted the top of her head, rubbing her silky hair in an inaudible thanks he never would have been able to vocalize. As she burrowed deeper under the blankets, her cheek on his shoulder, the tension leaked out of him. His muscles relaxed and his thoughts went to a much more pleasant place.

His father was wrong, and he didn’t need the man’s support to attain his goals in life. Ellie believed in him, and in his mind, that was good enough. He could get into Boston College all on his own. He could have a career in hockey if he set his mind to it. The past didn’t have to repeat itself.

With this optimistic thought in mind, Alec drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Four

Alec awoke to the unpleasant sound of an alarm clock shrieking in his ear. He groaned with displeasure and rolled onto his side, pulling the sheet up over his head. He was nowhere near ready for the day. He felt as if he’d fallen asleep only minutes ago. This seemed like the perfect day to indulge in playing hooky.

He suddenly remembered he wasn’t in his own room when Ellie leaned over him to shut off the alarm. “Get up,” she demanded with a sleepy yawn. “Last time you stayed over, you almost made me late for school because I had to keep coming back in here to tell you to get your lazy butt up.” She whipped the sheet off his head in an attempt to force him out of bed.

Alec tossed an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from the bedside lamp as she clicked it on. “You get up way too early. Why do you need so much time to get dressed? I wake up fifteen minutes before I walk out the door.”

“I need to shower,” Ellie informed him. “I need to dry my hair. I need to get dressed and put on a little bit of make-up and eat breakfast and—”

“Alright. Alright. I get it. I’m getting up.” Contradictory to his words, he didn’t move. If he could just get a few more minutes of sleep…

Ellie gave an annoyed huff, threw a leg over his waist, and climbed over him.

A yelp of alarm escaped him, and he finally sat upright in bed. “Ellie!”

She turned around from pulling clean clothing out of her dresser. The look of innocence in her eyes had him biting his tongue. He did not want to explain to her why it was dangerous to hop over a guy’s lap first thing in the morning. His best friend was more than a little bit naïve when it came to issues involving the opposite sex. He would save her the embarrassment in this account. Had she crushed him with an ill-placed knee, though? Yeah, she would have gotten an earful about the male anatomy then.

He shook his head and slowly climbed out from under the blankets. “Okay, you win. I’m heading home.” He slipped his feet into the shoes he’d abandoned in the center of the room the night before. “I’ll see you in a little, okay? I’ll walk you to school.”

She waved distractedly over her shoulder as she rifled through her sock drawer. “Yeah. Sure thing.” He was halfway through the window when she called out. “Don’t forget your equipment bag today. You have practice after school!”

He chuckled at this. He found it amusing that she remembered his schedule better than he did half the time. He was fairly certain everyone needed an Ellie in their lives to keep them on track. “I’ll make sure I grab it. Thanks.”

He ducked out of her window and scrabbled his way across the tree until he was able to descend down its base. Much like he’d done the night before, he hopped with ease over the fence, ducking back into his own yard.