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All those good deeds we did for him did nothing for my points with anyone else. In fact, I did damage control with my PR rep over that text I sent. It was posted on social media, and now the world knows what my dick looks like and that I want Callie to come suck it.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and say she’s probably pissed about that one. Shit move on my part, but on the plus side, I got my phone fixed so things like this won’t happen again. Sadly, this isn’t the first time my dick has made an appearance on social media. Probably won’t be the last.
You’re probably wondering if I’ve heard from Callie?
Fucking nothing.
As you can imagine, I’m not sure what’s going on. She didn’t even come to the game, and she’s been to every Blackhawks home game since I’ve played for them for the last three years.
As the days go on, I kind of got into that fuck-you mode. Who the fuck does she think she is ignoring her friends like this? Even Ami hasn’t heard from her. Or at least that’s the story she’s telling me.
Ami might be lying. I no longer trust her after she said my dick looked like a clam. She clearly doesn’t know anything at all about the perfection that is the male anatomy but, then again, look who her muse is. No offense, Mase.
You wanna know when I finally see her?
Game 43. Seven days after we slept together on New Year’s Eve.
What surprises the hell out of me is that she’s sitting with Ami and Mase’s parents, along with Catelyn, his younger sister. Remember her? We, as in me and Callie, think Remy’s already fucked her. She’s sixteen, but with him, I don’t think he’d care about age. As long as there’s grass on the field and it’s consensual.
Trying to play along, like I don’t notice Callie or care that she’s here, I nudge Remy. “There’s Catelyn.”
Remy smiles. “Hey, bud.” He smacks Mase in the back of the head with his stick. “Seventeen now, right?”
Mase turns, his skates chattering, and glares. “Stop talking to my sister.”
Remy ignores him and hits his stick to the glass when he skates past Catelyn.
Her cheeks immediately turn red.
“Knock that shit off.” Mase isn’t having that and boards Remy into the glass, both of them grunting at the force. “I fuckin’ mean it. Leave her alone.”
They get a rise out of the watching crowd, all laughing, knowing this is nothing serious. He doesn’t even knock Remy down.
But I’m curious, so when Mase skates away, I bump Remy. “You fuck her yet?”
Remy smirks. “That’s none of your business, pal.”
Figures he won’t tell me, but I’m gonna go ahead and assume that’s a yes.
Leaning against the boards during warmups—trying to appear nonchalant—I can see Callie in the crowd. There’s a much better view from here. It’s only now I notice there’s someone next to her. Talking to her. Like they came together. And guess who it is?
A guy.
Sitting next to her.
Did I mention they’re talking?
And drinking beers.
She brought a guy to the game? Callie has season tickets, and I know for a fact that’s one of her seats.
I think she notices my heated stare on them because she turns and faces the guy, completely ignoring me.
My heart beats faster, my adrenaline kicking in. Pushing out a heavy breath, I skate away, firing pucks at the net.
Is that why she’d been ignoring me? She’s been seeing someone else?
Remy hits my shoulder. “Who’s she with?”