“You were super hungover yesterday, I’m assuming,” I say, ready to change the subject.
“So fucking hungover. It was miserable,” Laura groans, looping her purse handle over another hook and pulling out a small stack of DVDs. “I hit the dispenser outside of the drugstore and got all the new releases. You want some edgy horror that’s supposed to be great, sappy romance with a cheesy-looking dog in it, or some lame science fiction with a thin premise and people wearing too much green makeup?”
“I’m guessing horror, since you made the other two sound so appealing.”
“Wise man,” Laura says as she heads for the couch. “I would like three slices of whatever that is, please and thank you.”
I set the pizza down on the kitchen island and stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of my condo at the view of downtown and the mountains beyond, where dark storm clouds are rolling in to darken the bright autumn afternoon.
Laura is right. None of my exes ever want to be friends, and that includes my old fuck buddy Kirsten, who, after finding her true love, George, decided she never wanted to see me again. I was not invited to the wedding, even though Kirsten and I worked at hockey camps together every winter growing up and were seriously tight all through college. And now when we run into each other at the parties of mutual friends, she just nods politely before finding someone else to talk to.
As I fetch plates from the cabinet and grab a roll of napkins, I can’t help getting a little freaked out. I don’t want Libby to become one of the women who can’t stand to look at my face. I don’t want to lose her friendship, but I don’t want to live the rest of my life without knowing what it feels like to fuck her, either. I want to pleasure her in all the ways I had planned and all the new ones I’ll come up with between now and Tuesday night. I want to make her come, make her lose control, make sure she knows what it feels like to be completely erotically satisfied so that she never settles for another dud like Brett again.
But do I want it bad enough to risk never seeing her smile again? To risk having Libby’s eyes go cold every time her path crosses mine, which, considering our parents still live next door to each other and her sister works for my team, would be pretty fucking often?
I don’t know. I seriously don’t.
Even after half a pizza and two movies—the horror and the sci-fi, which is as stupid as Laura suspected it would be—I’m still not sure. All I know is that I have some serious thinking to do. But hopefully I’ll be able to confine my thinking to the flight to Seattle. I’ve got to keep all non-game-related thoughts off the ice, or it’s back to five a.m. meditation sessions for me, and I really prefer to sleep a little later than the ass crack of dawn.
“Want to start the romance?” Laura yawns as she stretches her socked feet out onto the leather footstool/coffee table.
“Nah, you’re right; the dog looks cheesy.”
“So cheesy. And I usually love dog movies, but seriously, pick a breed that doesn’t have a permanent grin on its face. I like my dog heroes to be able to project pathos, as well as happy-go-luckiness.”
“I’m all about the pathos,” I agree.
She snorts. “Do you even know what that means?”
“A quality that inspires sadness, pity, or despair,” I answer, clicking off the television and rising to my feet. “I’m not dumb, Laura.”
“I know you’re not,” she says. “Forgive me, I’ve been spending too much time with your less intelligent teammates. And of course Brendan, who refuses to speak in complete sentences with fans unless I stab him repeatedly with a fork. I feel for him, I really do, and I know he’s under a lot of stress as a single dad, but would it kill him to get friendly at promo ops once in a while?”
“Maybe. You never know what straw is going to break a man’s back.”
Laura hums beneath her breath as she rocks to her feet and starts for the door. “True. I’ll try to remember that the next time I ask him to smile for the camera and he glares at me like I stole his Bible and violated his sister.”
I grunt. “I think his sisters all live in Canada, which would make that difficult, but you’re funny.”
“I know. See you Saturday after the home game? I’m trying to get Libby to come out and play. If she doesn’t hook up with a hot tech billionaire, maybe the three of us could go grab ice cream or something?”
“Sure.” I’m grateful for the darkness in the entryway so Laura can’t see the scowl bunching my forehead. Libby and a hot tech billionaire? What the fuck is that about? “So Libby’s going on a blind date?”