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vladi

I hate weddings. I am happy for the couple exchanging vows, of course, it’s the rest of the rituals and expectations I can’t stand.

Standing in a hot, stuffy church with shitty, nonexistent air-conditioning for hours in an overpriced, too stiff suit surrounded by all the boring chatter about happily ever after and forever and the inane pomp and circumstance about being soulmates.

It’s boring . I was ecstatic when Hayes asked me to help plan a spur of the moment wedding at an arcade bar.

Good atmosphere, good ventilation, and a casual setting.

It was perfect. All weddings should be that way.

Then he dropped the news they were having a destination wedding.

So, now I have to stand outside in the Dominican Republic, on the sand practically on the equator during motherfucking summer, while I sweat to death under the blazing sun.

My skin prickles with phantom sweat. I miss Russia.

I miss the cold. I only want to exist on the ice.

Sitting in my house, the air is set to a cool sixty-five degrees.

It’s not warm here in Milwaukee, but I like the cold.

I just finished a book and am taking a few minutes to read the fifteen attachments about the upcoming wedding in this damn email.

It’s a whole week of activities, parties, a rehearsal dinner, the ceremony, and the reception.

Attachment after attachment about things to do, optional activities to sign up for, and mandatory events for the bridal party.

Unless it’s in cool water or an air-conditioned luxury hotel room, I’ll pass.

Hayes will understand my isolation. He’s asked me to be his best man, and I’m honored.

I owe Hayes everything. He’s the only family I have left.

I’ve been without my mother for decades, but my father died a few years ago.

Larsy, and his mom Kristi, were there for me.

Inviting me to every holiday event, welcoming me into their lives, and making sure I was never alone.

Sadly, being around other people doesn’t take away the loneliness inside.

Then there is the other issue at hand. I could fake my way through a week of love and small talk if it weren’t for the hazel-eyed, brunette that will also be there.

The one who happens to be the best friend of the bride.

The woman whose panties I still have.

The same ones I take on every road trip, discreetly packed in my carry-on. I’m not chancing my luggage getting in the wrong hands with that precious cargo inside. I purchased a black silk bag to carry them so my teammates can’t see when I transfer them into my toiletry bag every game for good luck.

After our amazing night together, I brought them with me to the first game I was back in the net.

We won. And now I can’t be without them.

They remind me of her. Her feisty attitude.

Her dirty mouth. Her gagging on my cock.

I don’t know what she’s done to me, but somehow, after only one night, she clawed her way deep into my mind.

My days are consumed with thoughts of her, the woman showing up in my dreams every damn night.

And lately, they are getting more intense, and unfortunately not the type of dream where we are back in her apartment fucking.

These are nightmares. I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming for her, reaching but not able to get to her.

I can’t keep her safe. My throat tightens and my stomach churns, before I take a deep, calming breath. How do I make this go away?

I avoid her as much as I can, but our friends are married, which makes it impossible.

When we have to be around one another, my chest gets tight, that damn feeling steals my breath, and my heart races like I’ve just finished sprints at practice.

I stroke my cock multiple times a day, thinking of her, trying to relieve the ache.

What I wouldn’t give to have one more night with her.

Would that soothe the ache in my chest? Would that banish the thoughts plaguing me?

Sighing, I drag my hand down my face. Fuck, if I did relationships, this would be so much easier.

I’ve thought about reaching out so many times.

Her number is in our group chat. I’ve even typed out messages and hovered over the send button, only to delete them and throw my phone across the room.

Goddamit, I want her. But the paralyzing fear of not being able to care for someone haunts me.

I can’t bring myself to open that part of me that was ripped away so violently so many years ago.

A thick wall of ice blocks that piece of my heart, and I’m not sure it will ever melt.

DING! DING! DING! BANG! BANG! BANG!

I jump at the sound. Who the hell is here?

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Vladi! I know you’re home. Open this damn door right fucking now!”

Holy hell. What is Larsy doing here? I rush to the door, nearly tripping over my feet with worry. Also, not wanting my door kicked in.

“Why the hell are you beating down my door?” I shout, cracking open the abused wood.

He storms in, fists my shirt, and slams me against a wall.

“You fucking slept with Maggie after the Bourbon Gala?! ”

Shit.

“ And you told her not to tell Olivia? What the actual fuck, Vladi?!”

My lips thin. This was one of the many reasons I didn’t want this getting out.

“I don’t understand why this is any of your business.”

“My business? You asked my wife’s best friend to keep a secret from her, which is basically keeping a secret from me.

And, in case you forgot, I drove Olivia home after one game and you got all pissy about me not telling you what was going on in my life.

I kept that from you for two days . Funny, isn’t it?

Seems like we are in the same situation here, but you’ve kept me in the dark for months ! ”

“Technically, she wasn’t your wife at that point in time,” I argue, watching the anger burn in his eyes. Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say.

“God, this explains so much!” Hayes takes a calming breath, letting go of my shirt and dropping his palms on my shoulders.

“Vladi, you’re my best friend. Why didn’t you tell me about this?

We’re all adults. People hook up all the time.

” He steps back and runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the already mused strands.

“I’m only slightly irritated that you slept with Maggie.

What I’m furious about is why you chose to keep this from me.

We don’t have secrets, man. We never have. What the hell is going on?”

Brushing past him, I grip my book, shoving it back on my shelf. “It was just a one-night stand. She had a bad day. So did I. We were just helping one another out. Nothing more.”

“Then why does she hate you? Liv said Maggie wants to rip your insides out and hang them from the top of the arena. What did you do to her?”

This is one question I’m happy to answer with truth.

“I fucked her, Larsy. I fucked her all night long until she was boneless, satisfied, and sleeping. Then I left,” I turn, leaning against the bookcase and crossing my arms over my chest, trying to dispel the tightness pressing down on me. “What more is there to say?”

The red on his face tells me he’s not enjoying that answer either, his body language mirroring my own. “Explain ‘then I left’ to me. How did you leave things with her?”

Shit, he’s going to be even more pissed now. I could lie, but he’ll see right through me. “I just left, okay? I…” I swallow hard, cracking my knuckles as I try to find the words. “I had to get out of there. I panicked. I was…feeling things.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his brows. “You were feeling things? What kind of things were you feeling that you had to leave without saying goodbye?”

Seems like my Little Red Riding Hood confessed her sins, yet I’m the one paying for them.

“I took her home, like you asked after you almost took Olivia’s pathetic ex-boyfriend’s head off.

Need I remind you that you asked me to, and I quote, ‘make sure Maggie makes it home safely.’ So I took her home…

safely. Multiple times. And, to be fair, I told her ahead of time I don’t do relationships.

We both agreed whatever was going to happen was only for one night. ”

Hayes takes a step toward me, his body tight with rage. “Keep talking or I’m going to your basement bar and smashing all of your vodka.”

My eyes narrow. “Don’t threaten my vodka collection.”

“Then don’t keep any more secrets from me! I know that’s not the whole story. Keep. Talking.”

I swallow down the knot forming in my throat.

“I…I didn’t mean to leave. I was fully planning one more round with her.

Honestly, it was the most fun I’d had with a woman in a long time.

Her body is gorgeous, breathtaking, unlike any woman I’ve been with before.

She let me do things to her I’ve wanted to do, needed to do, for so long.

And she…she did things to me. Not just sexually, though she was damn good at that. ”

I drop my head back, looking at the vaulted ceilings of my home. “She gave me shit all night long, and I fucking loved it. She is funny. But also feisty and confident. She doesn’t let anything, or anyone, stand in her way.”

I consider leaving it at that, not telling him the real reason I freaked out. But I know him, and he’ll see right through it.

“I started worrying about her safety,” I finally admit.

“I wanted to protect her, which is ridiculous. Her neighborhood is one of the safest in Milwaukee.” Shaking my head, I bury the panic thrumming through me.

“I came back from the bathroom and found her sound asleep. She looked so peaceful. I couldn’t help but think of the what-ifs.

What if I let her in? What if something bad happened to her like…

” I swallow hard, choking out the next words.

“Like what happened to my mother. Then my chest got tight. So tight I could hardly breathe. I freaked out, so I left.”

Hayes looks at me with pity in his eyes. “I know you struggle with what happened to your mom. But shutting other people out? Living alone? Never dating anyone because you’re scared of what happened to her? Do you think that’s what she’d want for you?”

“I don’t need your pity.” Fuck his goddamn advice. “I couldn’t protect her. I can’t let myself get attached to someone else I can’t care for.”

“You were seven , Vladi. You can’t let that hang over you for the rest of your life,” he says, his voice low with concern. “You’ve had some bad shit happen, but…what if letting Maggie in leads to something good?”

I roll my eyes, a growl rumbling through my chest. And now he says this shit. I had hoped we could all move on. That I wouldn’t have to confront what I did. How I hurt her. But now that he knows, I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t hide the tightness in my chest that still lingers.

“Larsy, I swear I didn’t mean to leave her with no goodbye. I wasn’t trying to hurt her. It was my fault. I don’t want her to hate me.”

“You’re going to have to do some major groveling to get Maggie James back on your good side. She is pissed .” Hayes opens the door to leave, “You know she doesn’t put up with any shit. And right now, Vladi, you are the shit.”

I drop my gaze to the floor shaking my head.

In the few interactions since that night, I sensed she was upset with me.

In her glare, her snark, the way she gritted teeth through a smile every time she talked to me.

I’ve clearly underestimated her anger . Cracking my knuckles, I hear the door close behind him.

This is going to be one hell of an uphill battle.

“Fuck.”