Chapter 96: Blue eyes
Chapter 15 -
Jude
I collapsed backward onto the hotel bed, letting out a deep sigh as my aching muscles finally began to relax. I had ditched the post-game victory party the coach threw for us tonight. I told Raphael I was feeling under the weather and heading straight back to the hotel, but the real reason was that I couldn’t deal with the team’s relentless teasing. The second I walked into the locker room, every single guy on the roster had started whistling and howling about the comment I dropped to the reporters on live television.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the endless stream of messages I’d spammed Rosie with today and earlier. There was still no text response from her, but the messenger showed she had read each and every one of them the second they landed.
A slow smile pulled at my lips as I opened the private security application on my phone. Call me a stalker if you want, but I just needed to know what she was doing most of the time. I pulled up the live feed of the penthouse living room and found her curled up on the couch. Curious, I hit the rewind button to see if she had really watched the game, and to my shock, she had.
And when my post-game interview flashed across the screen, a crimson blush had exploded across her face, and I grinned at the screen, captivated by that beautiful color on her skin. She was so damn adorable. I’d video-called her straight from the arena floor earlier to ask, or maybe she was still at my parents’ place, but looking at the screen, she had been so flustered by my words that she dropped her phone bashfully.
I quickly took a screenshot of her blushing face from the security feed, saving the image into a hidden, password-protected folder on my phone. A private collection of her. Just for my eyes.
I stared blankly at the ceiling as my mind drifted to the past, remembering the first time I met her; I first saw her seven years ago. I was only seventeen, stranded under the downpour.
That was the day I had walked out on my family because my father and I had gotten into a clash for the first time in my life. My parents had given Maya and me everything we could ever want, and I was my father’s golden son, the heir he constantly paraded around high-society parties, introducing me to business partners. But in my mind, the only thing that mattered was hockey.
It had started as a casual high school hobby, something I’d joined on a total whim just to socialize. But the varsity coach had pulled me aside after my first week, telling me I had the stance of a natural-born, and threw me straight into the rink. And I fell in love with the sport. My parents spared no expense, buying me the best training and gear and getting trainers and the best to make sure I excelled. But then, my dad dropped the bomb: he ordered me to stop playing because it was taking my time and focus and preparing to take over the Winter legacy.
I argued defiantly back then, packed a bag, and ran away. It won’t be that hard, but I had no idea how the real world actually worked because I’d been sheltered all my life, and within hours of walking around, a pickpocket scammed me, taking my wallet and everything I had. I was stranded as I walked around in the freezing rain for hours until my legs gave out in front of a small convenience store.
I sat on the curb, shivering, my jaw clenched tightly. I was still too stubborn and proud to call my parents to pick me up, even as my stomach violently rumbled. Through the transparent glass of the store, I watched strangers buying hot food, and for the first time in my privileged life, I tasted what hunger felt like. I was literally salivating over someone else’s snacks. I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, turning my head away in shame as my stomach growled again.
Suddenly, the store door clicked open. A girl walked out into the rain, holding a white plastic grocery bag in one hand while her other arm securely cradled a small bundle against her chest. She took a few steps, paused, and looked straight at me.
“Are you lost?” she asked.
I didn’t respond, keeping my eyes fixed on the pavement. Suddenly, the small bundle in her arms began to wail, and she immediately shifted, rocking and softly lulling the crying baby. I looked up in complete surprise, staring at a girl who couldn’t have been older than seventeen—my age—carrying a newborn. Is that her kid? I wondered.
When I stayed silent, she stepped closer. “Are you hungry?”
Before I could fake a prideful answer, my stomach let out a betraying growl.
While she let out a soft, amused chuckle, rustling through her plastic bag, she pulled out a wrapped pastry and held it out to me. “Eat it and don’t be stubborn,” she murmured softly. Then, she pulled a small handkerchief from her pocket, used it to gently wipe the rain from my face, and pressed it into my hand.
I looked down at the cloth, catching a glimpse of initials embroidered in the corner: R.E.M. Without even asking for permission, she casually took a seat right next to me. Normally, my upbringing would have made me annoyed, but I was freezing and starving, and she had just handed me something as I quickly unwrapped the snack and practically chomped it.
She smiled a radiant expression that stole the air from my lungs, and I just stared at her. Her blue eyes were beautiful, show brightly contrast the bagged that was under her lid.
She’s beautiful
“What are you doing out here? Why are you in this neighborhood?” She looked me up and down, taking in my soaked clothes. “You really don’t look like you belong around here.”
I turned my face away, staring into the dark street. “I’m angry at my parents.”
“Your parents?” she asked, her voice laced with concern as she handed me a bottle of water from her bag.
“Yeah. My dad wants me to give up hockey. He’s trying to force me to continue his legacy,” I grumbled, the bitter anger rushing back as I thought about how carelessly my father had dismissed my dreams.
“You want one thing, and your parents want another?” she mused while I nodded tightly.
She stared out into the rain, slowly shaking her head. “At least you should be grateful that you have parents who actually notice you. Parents who want what they think is best for you.” She paused, her voice dropping into a quiet tone. “You better appreciate what you have, kid."I WANTED TO TAKE OFFENSE AT HER WORD. But swallowed, continue listening to her. “Some people don’t have parents who care at all. Some of us are just left loaded down with baggage we never asked for.”
Her words hit me, instantly opening my eyes. I stared at her profile; her expression had gone empty and blank, looking out into the distance. She suddenly stood up, extending her umbrella toward me. “Go back home and be a good boy,” she said, reaching down to playfully ruffle my damp hair. A sudden, intense blush exploded across my cheeks at the touch. “Your parents love you.”
As she turned to walk away into the downpour, panic seized me, and I lunged forward, quickly grabbing the edge of her jacket. “What’s your name?” I demanded.
“Rosie,” she replied, turning her head with a soft smile. “What about you, runaway boy?”
"Jude," I responded, “Jude Winter.” I whispered, seeing a faint smile on his lip, "Will I see you here tomorrow?” I asked rapidly, desperate not to let the moment end.
“Yeah. " Just bring my umbrella back,” she smiled warmly. “Though, if the future holds true, I think you’ll—”
Before she could finish her sentence, a sedan screeched to a halt at the curb. The doors flew open, and two family security guards stepped out, followed immediately by my mother and father.
“Juddy!” my mom cried out, bursting into tears as she rushed forward to throw her arms around me.
That night, I was dragged back to the estate WHILE my mind was set on returning to that convenience store the very next morning to find her, but the exposure to the rain caught up to me, and I fell ill with a fever for days. By the time I was finally back on my feet and forced my driver to take me back to that street corner, the store clerk told me she was gone.
That single day of running away changed everything. Seeing how broken my mother was over my disappearance caused her to yield to my dreams, which eventually forced my stubborn father to succumb to my demands as well. They let me pursue professional hockey. But no matter how famous I got, or how hard I searched, I could never find the girl from the rain.
Until a few years ago again, a deep smile pulled at my lips, reliving the memory. I scrolled through the recent photos of her on my phone, my thumb softly brushing against the glass screen. The urge to hear her voice hit me, and I clicked the video call button again.
This time, the line connected, and her face instantly filled my screen. She looked stunning, her long brown hair disheveled from lounging on the couch, her eyes looking away from the camera shyly, and she took my breath away every single time.
“What?” she snapped, her signature passive-aggressive defense mechanism kicking in immediately.
I smiled, loving how easily flustered she got, and I just stared at her face through the lens, letting the emotion settle in my chest. “Wifey,” I murmured, gulping down the sudden tightness in my throat.
“Why are you calling again?” she asked, scrunching her nose up in that cute way she always did as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her shoulder.
“Because I miss you, wifey,” I said, dropping the teasing act, my voice thick with honesty. “And I wanted to see you and hear your voice.”
I heard a quiet gasp catch in her throat. Cute.
Orion blinked rapidly, clearing her throat as she tried to regain her composure. “Thank you,” she mumbled tightly, before adding in a softer whisper, “And... congratulations on your game.”
“So, you watched the game?” I teased, playing dumb even though I’d just watched her do it on the security feed. I just wanted to see her go bright red again.
She glared at the camera, her eyes rolling as she mumbled under her breath, but I heard it perfectly: "Shameless pervert," and she huffed.
Before I could laugh, the screen went black—she had hung up on me. I fell back against the hotel pillows, clutching the phone to my chest, laughing out loud in the empty room as a helpless smile took over my face.
Yeah. She was definitely going to be the death of me.
***
Jude is so bad down for Rosie . This is the first time they met and she had already stole his breath away. It’s supposed to be longer than this but I just shortened it because it was more funny in my head, their first encounter but due to the word limit and coins, I’d to cut some part. I might drop some draft or summary on discord.
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