Page 4

Chapter 4

Mikey

The ride to the practice facility was cold, but it helped me wake up. I liked riding my bike to morning skate, the wind and sea air a nice way to come into the day. Southern California always had some kind of flowers in bloom, adding a sweet fragrance to even the February air.

In the locker room, I shot the shit with my teammates.

“Did you apologize to Jessie?” Guy asked as soon as I saw him.

“Uh, yeah. I tried anyway,” I said, pulling my shirt over my head.

Beatty cackled, his missing front tooth adding to his goofy look. “What do you mean, tried? She hated you.”

“We talked for a while on our balconies last night. But then I pissed her off again. Whatever. I did my part.”

“How did you screw it up again?” Guy pushed, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t need to be friends with my neighbors.”

Beatty looked even more entertained. “Come on,” he said, dancing his voice. “What did you say to her?”

“I, uh, asked her when was the last time her boyfriend gave her a real orgasm.”

Laughter rang through the locker room. “Jesus, Mikey. You know that’s not your business, right?”

“It is when I hear her faking it with him all the time!” I argued.

“No way. How do you know she’s faking it?” Romelski chimed in.

“Yeah, I’ve never had anyone have to fake it,” Beatty added. “I don’t know what that sounds like.”

“Shut the fuck up! You know what I mean,” I snapped. “The ones who just want you to come back for more, so they put on a big show to try and stroke your ego. Every single one of you has had a faker at some point. Don’t act like I’m special.”

A grunt of agreement issued from the group.

“So you not only admitted that you hear them having sex, but you told her you know she’s faking it?”

“I mean, yeah. She’s hot. Maybe she’s just been waiting for a big strapping hockey man to come make her dreams come true,” I said. “Leave no stone unturned. No bone unturned.”

Romelski groaned. “That was a terrible one, Mike.”

Obi shook his head. “You have no filter, Mikey.”

“No wonder you can’t find anyone permanent,” Leroy, my least favorite teammate, muttered.

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Sorrento said. “Mikey’s a great guy. He’ll find someone.”

Coach stalked in, interrupting my roasting session. “Alright, boys. We’ve got a big one against Vegas tonight. Get to the weight room.”

* * *

“Fuck.”

My pads and helmet crunched as I smashed into the boards. Vegas’s forward slammed me right in the shoulder that had been acting up. I felt something pop, and that’s never a good sign. Still, I won the puck and took off up the ice.

He stole the puck from me and crossed the blue line toward our goal. I gave everything I had with my legs, ignoring the sharp pain in my shoulder. Right as he got off a shot, I checked him so hard he tumbled backward.

“How’d you like that, asshole? Doesn’t feel so nice, does it?”

There was an immediate whistle. It was a clean hit, and his wasn’t, but of course I was going to get called on the penalty. Fucking typical. All because I had a reputation for being a bruiser. Still, I didn’t argue as I was issued my two minutes. Maybe they’d feel some remorse when I went straight to the locker room after my time was up. I’d be stupid to keep playing on my bum shoulder when it was fucked up to start with.

I was out the rest of the game, spending time with the physical therapist. I didn’t break anything, but some kind of strain was made worse by the hit. I wasn’t likely to be heading out on the road trip that left for the next four days.

I was unbelievably pissed off. The physical therapist recommended hot and cold therapy while the team was gone, along with daily check-ins to see how the muscle was progressing.

As I sat in my car to go home, I scrolled through my DMs. I had plenty of options for beautiful women to console me, but anytime I went to reply to a message, I got a little pit in my stomach. Suddenly, my one-nights didn’t sound so appealing.

I had a strict no-girlfriends policy, mostly for my own protection. I wasn’t the kind of guy who people looked to for stability. I couldn’t be relied on. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a great friend. But whenever things got serious, I choked. It wasn’t just dating. I could play great all season, and completely fall apart in the playoffs. I could have decent chemistry with a woman, but I’d forget about a date, or say the wrong name, or get distracted and determine that someone else better had to be out there.

Makes me sound like a real dick, doesn’t it?

My thoughts continually turned back to Jessie. That bangin’ body, her beautiful but slightly goofy features, the way I felt when I talked to her. She felt like everything I’d been looking for.

But a couple of big catches. One, I kept pissing her off. The lady doth protest too much or whatever that phrase is. I was genuinely trying to be her friend and she fought me on everything. I’m not even sure why I was attracted to her given all that, but there was some vibe with her that I couldn’t ignore.

But the second catch was that she was a relationship girl, and she was actively in a relationship. I was an asshole for lusting after a taken woman.

But I knew she wasn’t happy with him, and if my ears served me right, he was cheating on her.

I wanted better for her.

I wished it could be me for her.

But I was destined to forever get only part of my needs fulfilled. It was easy enough to find someone willing to fuck. And I didn’t know what a real loving relationship looked like, anyway. I saw it in my friends’ relationships, but my parents? No fucking way. My dad was a serial cheater, and my mom just went along with it. She pretended nothing was wrong with my dad being gone on “business trips” all week while she hung out with her bestie, my Aunt Lori. Not an actual aunt, just your mom’s bestie that you call an aunt.

There was no hope for me with love.

I threw my phone in the cupholder of my car and went home alone.