Ibought her fucking tampons? What the hell has happened to me? Last season I was playing the field, perfectly happy to fuck any woman with a nice set of tits and a mild appreciation for hockey, and now all I want is the one woman I can’t have.
I have no idea when this happened, or when she started to become my whole world, but something has shifted. Elise is all I think about. When I’m on the ice—it’s her I’m skating for. When I’m home in Seattle, she’s the person I want to spend all my free time with. When I’m travelling, my brain is constantly calculating the difference in our time zones and when I might get to talk with her. I hardly recognize the man I’ve become.
I’m officially fucked.
Up the ass, as Asher would say.
Without lube, Teddy would probably add.
And Owen—well, I can’t even let myself think about what Owen might say. I have a pretty good idea how he’d feel about me dating his sister and let’s just say, the conversation would end with his knuckles bloody and my nose broken. It’s not a road I want to venture down with him.
“You ready for this?” Owen asks from across the basketball court.
I nod and hold up both hands. He tosses me a ball as the rest of the guys file out onto the half-sized court. It suddenly seems even smaller with six huge hockey players stretching, talking trash and vying for position. The new team owner had a basketball court added to the training facility’s gym last year and we’ve made good use of it, meeting up for quick scrimmages between game days as a way to keep our minds off hockey and stay relaxed.
We divide up into teams—me, Owen and Grant against Teddy, Asher and our backup goalie, Morgan. As the game begins, I feel myself relax, dribbling, passing and shooting. There’s something about playing a sport, besides the one I’m paid to perform at the top of my game, that calms me. It must be the same for the other guys, because we all fall into an easy rhythm.
“I’m open!” Grant shouts.
Owen passes him the ball. Our captain shoots and misses, but I get the rebound.
We play until we’re sweaty and tired, and then shuffle to the benches at the sidelines to grab water and towel off.
I sit down on the floor to stretch, only slightly out of breath and Owen joins me.
“You up for going out tonight?” Teddy asks Owen as he sinks down beside us.
I used to go out with them any chance I got—and now it all seems so unappealing to me—trolling bars, looking for hookups whose names I won’t remember in the morning.
Owen rolls his shoulders. “Nah. Not tonight. I told Elise I was going to come to her school thingy tonight.”
“What school thing?” I ask, making sure to keep my voice casual. Elise has already told me about the event, but I can’t let Owen know that I know.
I move onto a hamstring stretch while Owen fills us in. “They frame and sell some of her preschoolers’ artwork and the proceeds go to charity. I’m going to stop in and buy some shit, and then take her to dinner after.”
Teddy wipes the sweat from his brow with the hem of his t-shirt. “She’s not still broken up over that guy, is she?”
Owen shakes his head. “She’s cool.”
“Has she talked about dating again?” I ask. Teddy’s already opened the door—I might as well step through it.
“Not really.” Owen gives me a critical look. “Which is fine with me. Elise is the type to fall in love once and stay with the dude forever. She doesn’t need to get serious about someone yet. She should just take her time. Ya know?”
As I weigh his words, an uneasy feeling settles inside me.
“I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a massage appointment in an hour,” Teddy says, standing.
I nod. “Have fun with Thor.”
He flips me off. Thor is the nickname we’ve affectionately given the Incredible-Hulk-sized team massage therapist. He’s from Sweden and he’s at least six foot six. Sports massage is often uncomfortable, especially when you have bruises and old injuries, but with him, it can be a whole new kind of torture. And all of us are pretty damn sure he enjoys inflicting that pain on us a bit too much.
Owen gets up too and starts to grab his stuff—a sweatshirt, a duffle bag, a water bottle. And every second that passes, a knot tightens in my stomach. He’s heading out, planning to shower at home while I head into the gym and finish the workout I was halfway through when the guys arrived for the game.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” I jog up and stop beside him.
Even if it’s the last thing I want to do, I decide this is exactly the conversation I should be having with Owen. I need to grow the fuck up and just talk to him—man to man. We’ve been friends for too long, and I hate the thought that there’s a secret between us. Maybe there’s a way to make it so everything doesn’t fall apart. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach as I wait for him to respond.
Owen gives me a curious look. “Sure. About what?”
“Elise,” I say, mouth suddenly dry.
“What’s up?”
“That stuff you said about her not dating…”
His eyes narrow. “What about it?”
I shrug, trying to act casual while my heartrate accelerates. This is it. This is my moment. No backing down now. Just fucking spit it out, Brady. “What if I wanted to date her?”
His eyes are narrowed on mine, and the grip he has on his water bottle is making his knuckles turn white. A shocked expression crosses his face, eyes widening. “You? You don’t date, you fuck around, so no. I’m not giving you my blessing to fuck my sister over.” His shakes his head, as if clearing away the thought of it, as if it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.
We stand there a moment longer, him, looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown two heads.
“Yeah, well maybe that’s all behind me. Maybe I’m ready for a good girl. There’s no one better than Elise, you said so yourself.”
He shakes his head again, lips pressing into a line. “Don’t make me kick your ass, Brady. You know my sister is off-limits.”
“I know she’s your sister, but seriously, Owen, think about it. She’s going to start dating again at some point.”
“Is this your idea of a joke? I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you,” Owen says, gaze narrowed.
I know something was wrong with me. I just can’t tell my best friend what it is.
He’s right though. Something inside me had changed. Ever since I thought I had a kid on the way, all the locker room talk has gone stale. This entire lifestyle has grown stale. Actually, that’s a lie. I still love playing hockey, and hope to continue doing so professionally for at least another ten years if I can. Hell, maybe I’d even coach after that. What I had grown tired of was the constant female attention and meaningless sex. And before you revoke my man card—first let me explain.
As good as the release of endorphins felt, as nice as physical pleasure was, there was something about it that bothered me immensely. It was the fact that the ladies who threw themselves at the players on my team would have been just as happy to land in any of our beds.
I wasn’t special. I just happened to wear a jersey that afforded me a lot of attention.
“Brady?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts. “What the fuck, man?”
I shrug, trying to keep my tone casual. “Not a joke. I just wondered how you’d feel if I asked her out.”
The vein in his neck throbs and he looks like he wants to hit something. That something most likely being me.
He might think this conversation was coming out of left field, but lately, more and more, I wanted something, someone that was just for me. I knew it was kinda fucking weird coming from the guy who’s been the king of hookups for the better part of the last decade. I’m not going to hide from the fact that I’ve had a lot of sex. That’s part of my history. And plus, I’m holding out hope that the girl I end up with might appreciate the fact that I know what I’m doing in bed.
I still wasn’t sure that girl would be Elise. Partly because I knew she was too good for me, and partly because I recognized that my friendship with her brother was going to be an obstacle. Still, I had to hold onto some hope, because I’d never felt about anyone the way I feel about her.
Owen releases a slow, strained sigh. “First, you and I both know there’s not a chance in hell you’re actually interested in Elise, or any good girl for that matter, because you’ve said time and time again you’re never going to get married or have a family because of how fucked up your parents’ marriage was.”
I swallow a lump the size of a hockey puck. “Right. I know. I just, never mind.”
“Second,” he continues. “It would complicate the fuck out of things between us. Is that really something you want to risk?”
I clench my hands into fists at my sides, and nod. “No, and you’re right. I get it. I really do.”
Owen scoffs, muttering something under his breath as he strolls away.
Well that went fucking horribly.
