I felt someone slide in next to me on the bench and I looked up with a scowl.
“Hey,” Dell said. “How ya feeling?”
Was she serious? “Like shit. Thanks for asking.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. Just leave me alone.”
“I’ll mark you down on my ‘asshole after loss’ column.” Her tone was light and easy. Just like a woman. She had no idea what this game meant to me. It made me want to punch a hole in a wall.
“I’ll mark you down on my airhead column,” I muttered.
“Hey,” she said sharply. “I’m not a ditz.”
“I’m not an asshole.”
“Not normally, no. You had a bad game. Shit happens. Get a shower, go out and ask some lucky young lady if she’d like to see your stick. Ride her like a cheap pony and then work hard tomorrow at practice.”
“Such wisdom, sensei.” I ran a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. I did actually feel a little less explosive. This was what Ryke would’ve told me – get over it and move on. He probably would’ve even recommended getting laid like Dell did.
“Go get an ice bath,” she said, getting up from the bench.
A guy whose name I didn’t remember smirked as he walked past. “I thought you were supposed to be good, Hudson.”
“Fuck you,” I said, pulling my pads off. How would I get my head straight after playing so fucking bad? Maybe I did need to get laid. It’d been a long time. I’d stayed focused on physical therapy and weight training in my two months off. So that meant I hadn’t had sex in … two and a half months?
And still, I didn’t feel like bothering with it. I didn’t want to smile and flirt and try to be impressive to some chick I’d never see after tonight. I just wanted to ice, get a shower and go back to my apartment and be alone. Inevitably, my dad would call to break down just how much I’d sucked tonight. He watched every game I played on TV or Internet live-stream.
No game and no interest in getting laid. Who the fuck was I?
***
Dell
Our goalie, Jack Scroggins, was crouched on my treatment table, his ruddy, bare ass in the air. He was hairy and sweaty, making me realize I didn’t miss seeing naked men’s asses at all, really.
My job was to help the team with any and all medical issues. And today, the issue was hemorrhoids.
“Yeah, that’s … I’ll call the doc about that,” I said. “I’m not able to treat that.” Thank God.
“Fucking hurts,” Jack said, turning his head to look at me.
“I’ll try to get you in with Landis tomorrow. You can … get down now. And put your pants back on.”
He grimaced as he sat down on the table and then slid down. I shook my head, knowing I’d have to sanitize it now. And then go home and take a shower.
“So …” Scroggins fastened his pants but didn’t walk away. “I was wondering about something …”
“Hmm?”
“Uh …”
Our goalie was awkward. There was no other way to describe him. He was one of the guys, but he lacked the smoothness that came natural to most of the others. I’d always had a soft spot for him.
“When you’re dating someone, how do you know if they’re dating anyone else?” he asked, running a hand through his shaggy black hair.
“You should ask. Are you still dating that woman you met at the Laundromat?” I smiled, hoping Jack had finally found someone he was compatible with.
“Yeah. But isn’t there some other way to figure it out?”
I pretended to think about it. “You could dig through her trash and look for used condoms.”
His eyes widened and I felt bad for teasing him.
“Just talk to her about it. Tell her you really like her. Don’t play games.”
He nodded. “How long do you think it’ll take to get rid of …?” He pointed to his ass.
“Uh … I really don’t know. But I’ll call Landis right now. You won’t be able to see him until tomorrow since it’s so late.”
It was nearly seven in the evening. I’d left earlier to pick Kyler up from school, take him to the library and make dinner. Jack had asked me to meet him here about something, and I’d dashed over from Kyler’s hockey practice, leaving Sadie to cheer him on.
I wiped down my table and scrubbed my hands and arms up to my elbows. Sadie often said she was jealous that I massaged hot men for a living, but it I mostly did unglamorous work like this. As Butch Price’s daughter, I’d never even considered playing hockey. But I did love it, and this was my perfect job.
Grabbing my purse and hitting the lights, I ran from the locker room, hoping to catch the end of Kyler’s practice. The rink lights were on, and I glanced at the ice instinctively. Luke Hudson was out there alone, skating and shooting.