“That’s a fucking bullshit call, and you know it!”
“Zee, chill the fuck out!” Maddison grabs the back of my jersey, keeping me from getting any closer to the blind as fuck referee.
“Slashing. Chicago. Number Eleven. Two minutes.”
“Fuck that!”
“Zee, get your ass in the box and shut the hell up!” Maddison pushes me towards the opposite side of the ice, where I’m about to spend another two minutes out of the game—my third penalty of the night.
Chicago fans slap the glass, trying to get my attention, but I don’t look in any direction other than straight ahead towards the ice.
This game sucks.
Well, the boys are playing great—all but me. I’ve been making sloppy plays, delivering dirty hits, and overall being more of a deterrent than a help to my team.
I may as well get my ass thrown out and do the boys a favor.
Starting a meaningless fight sounds fan-fucking-tastic, seeing as I’ve been seething for an entire week now and needing to take it out on someone. Dirty fight on the ice? It’s what people expect. What’s the point in proving them wrong?
The reason for my week-long shitty attitude is strictly because I haven’t seen or heard from a particular curly-haired flight attendant since the gala. I wouldn’t say Stevie is avoiding me since we haven’t had any road games, and she doesn’t have my number, but still, if she changed her mind about letting me take her on a date, she knows how to get ahold of me.
And clearly, she hasn’t changed her mind.
It sucks having feelings. It’s terrible when they’re not reciprocated. I’ve never had that issue. I’ve never liked someone, and whatever my intentions were with a woman, they were always returned.
I sound ridiculous. Twenty-eight years old and making a big deal about liking someone. But it is a big deal to me. I’ve never felt more than just a physical attraction to someone before. But with Stevie, I’m attracted to her body, mind, mouth, and heart.
And she’s out of reach because of my fucked-up reputation.
“Eleven, you’re up,” the penalty box usher reminds me. As the last fifteen seconds of my two-minute sentence winds down, I stand from the bench.
As soon as that plexiglass door opens, allowing me onto the ice, I beeline it straight for Tampa’s star forward, delivering a dirty blow and throwing him into the boards while the puck is nowhere near his stick.
And when Maddison shakes his head at me in disappointment as I’m thrown out of the game and escorted into the locker room, I yell over my shoulder, “Doing you boys a favor!”
A quick rinse does the trick before I suit back up, grabbing my keys and wallet from my locker. The third period still has ten more minutes of gameplay, but I need to get out of here. The team can fine me for missing our post-game meeting and press conference. I don’t care.
“Zee,” Logan’s gentle voice stops me in my tracks as I open the back exit of the locker room. She stands opposite the hall. “Are you okay?”
Gaze dropping, I nod. A very unconvincing nod, I’ll admit.
“No, you’re not,” she sighs. Opening her arms, she takes a step forward and covers me in a hug. Well, as much as she can. She’s tall for a woman, but I’m huge. Regardless of my size, I sink into the embrace of one of my best friends. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” I say into her hug. “I’m just pissed off right now, I guess.”
“At Stevie?”
“No.” Shaking my head, we pull away. “At myself. It’s my fault I’m in this fucked-up situation where she can’t figure out which side of me is real.”
Logan gives me an apologetic half-smile. “I think deep down she knows, but Zee, you’ve got to understand besides my family, everyone in the world thinks you’re this certain guy. And yeah, you made that decision years ago to further your career, but that’s not you. So, stop playing into it. That shit you pulled on the ice”—she motions towards the rink—“that’s not the real Zee. That’s the bad-guy EZ that doesn’t exist, so stop playing into it. Maybe that will clear things up for Stevie.”
“Lo, she knows more about me than I ever planned on allowing someone else to know. And she still thinks I’m some piece of shit. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“No, she doesn’t.” Logan shakes her head. “Look, I didn’t talk to her much last week at the gala, and I don’t know her, but I think she’s confused about why you put out this media persona to the world. Give her a little grace. Eli was the most selfish person when we met, and if he kept acting that way towards everyone else in public but was sweet just to me behind closed doors, I think maybe I’d be confused too. His real change happened when he started to love everyone around him, not only himself and not just me.”
Oh God, she’s right. She’s always right.
“I’m not ready to be honest with everyone yet.”
“Okay, but you can be honest with her. You need to tell her everything. Tell her about your family and tell her why you choose to let the world view you the way you do. If you really like her, Zee, I think you need to tell her everything.”
Looking down, I keep my stare locked on the floor. “I do really like her.”
Logan doesn’t respond, and when my gaze darts back to hers, I find wide eyes and lifted brows.
“What?” I ask with caution.
Her green eyes sparkle with a knowing glint. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words,” she giggles. “But they sound good coming from you.”
“Oh God.” I playfully roll my eyes. “I’m turning into Maddison, aren’t I?”
“Little bit. Speaking of my husband, I need to get back to the game.”
I open my arms to hug her again. “He’ll kill me if I’m the reason you don’t see one of his hundreds of goals.” My tone drips with sarcasm.
“We both know he’ll show me the replay over and over again, even if I do see it in person.”
She gives me a tight squeeze, her playful tone shifting. “Zee, you deserve to be loved unconditionally, but you have to lay all your cards on the table in order for that to happen.”
I hug her a little longer, both of us silent. “Love you,” I remind her before taking off down the hall, feeling a bit lighter and knowing what I need to do. “Hey, Lo?”
“Hmm?” She turns around to face me at the opposite end of the hall.
“Get the fuck out of finance. You really should be a therapist.”
Her playful laugh echoes off the walls of the narrow hallway before she heads back to the rink to watch the final few minutes of the game.
After a couple of days of mulling it over, my shitty attitude began to shift. Logan was right, I do deserve unconditional love, but there’s someone else who deserves it too.
As soon as I walk into the Maddisons’ apartment, I’m greeted with the bare back of my best friend, his son strapped to his chest as they bounce around the kitchen.
“Hey, man,” Maddison shoots over his shoulder.
“Hey, Zee,” Logan adds after I pop a kiss on her cheek as she sits at the island.
Making my way around the kitchen, I cup the back of MJ’s swaddle as he sleeps on his dad’s chest, kissing the top of his head. Then for good measure, I add a kiss to Maddison’s cheek.
“Zee.” He holds his spatula up in warning. “Get your nasty-ass lips away from me.”
“There’s fresh coffee,” Logan offers.
Pulling a cup from the cabinet, I pour myself my daily caffeine fix.
“You staying for breakfast?” Maddison asks.
“Nah, I can’t. I gotta get some things done this morning, but I have a favor to ask. Can I steal your daughter?”
Both Maddison and Logan turn my way, frozen. Brows furrowed by both my best friends, Logan asks, “Want to try that again?”
“Can I steal your daughter for the afternoon?” I correct.
“Oh, yeah.” Maddison brushes me off, going back to preparing breakfast.
“Of course,” Logan adds. “What’s the occasion?”
“Well…” I take a sip of my coffee as I lean back on the kitchen counter. “I’m going to adopt a dog, but I need to make sure she’ll be okay around Ella first.”
A knowing smile slides across Logan’s lips. “Is there a certain place you’re adopting her from? Maybe where a certain flight attendant volunteers?”
“Maybe.”
“Zee, you got it bad,” Maddison laughs.
Okay, not entirely wrong.
“I’m not adopting to impress Stevie. I was thinking about what we discussed, Lo, and I do want to be loved. So, why not a dog? Especially one who just wants someone to love them in return. I’m a single guy, I have a huge place, and I can afford to have someone watch her while we’re traveling.”
“What’s her name?” Logan sits forward in excitement.
“Rosie. She’s a five-year-old Doberman, and from the time I’ve spent with her and what Stevie has told me, she’s a total sweetheart. But she’s been at the shelter for over a year because she’s a little intimidating, you know? I have the means to take care of her, and she deserves to have someone love her, so why not?”
“Zee, you’re making me swoon. Baby, what happened to all the dogs you were going to get me?” Logan asks her husband.
“That was before you were going to give me babies.”
“Maybe, if you take a break from making babies, you guys could get a dog?”
“Watch your mouth,” Maddison warns, causing Logan and me to burst into laughter.
“Uncle Zee!” Ella runs into the kitchen, sliding across the floor in her socks. “I made you this.”
She holds out a piece of paper as I pick her up off the ground.
“For me?” I ask, examining her work. The simple coloring page is scribbled with green and purple crayons, not a single part staying within the lines. She might not be the next great artist, but fuck, she’s cute. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
A proud smile overtakes her little lips.
“Hey, you want to go see some doggies with me today?”
“Doggies?” Eager green eyes go wide.
“Lots of doggies.”
She quickly nods before squirming in my grasp, asking to be put down. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she races to her room, which I assume is to get ready.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
