I know I should apologize, or call her, or do something, but it’s better if she just thinks I was too drunk to remember.
The guys around me erupt in laughter, and I realize Asher is still telling that goddamn story.
“She held her breath for like four minutes, dude. Swear to God!” he finishes, and the guys around us laugh. Teddy punches him in the shoulder and calls him an idiot.
Coach blows the whistle and we turn for the bench. I make a wide, lazy arc and take my time. Part of me is relieved today’s skate is done. But the other part of me knows I won’t be able to avoid Owen any easier at home. Hopping over the wall, I grab a water bottle and I take a long drink.
When I got drafted, my life changed in an instant. Suddenly there were fans calling my name at every game, kids wearing my number on the back of their jerseys, and women in every city who wanted to fuck me, flashing perfect tits in my face, begging to come home with me.
Everyone wanted a piece of me. Everyone except for Owen and Elise. They were true friends. They were there before all this started. Owen and I had been playing hockey together on the frozen pond in our neighborhood since we were eight years old. Elise too.
I grin, remembering back to how we always made her play goalie because she was so horrible at it and we could score fifteen goals a game.
She was the one girl I could just be myself around. And now I’ve gone and fucked that up too. But what else could I do? I can’t exactly apologize for sticking my dick in her, and taking something that wasn’t mine to take. Because what’s done is done. And I certainly can’t confess my crime to her brother. So I’d ghosted. It’s better this way. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. It’s not even a choice – even if I wanted to make something happen with Elise, my life is a shit show. I might have a kid on the way, for fuck’s sake.
Letting her believe I was too drunk to remember what happened is the safer alternative for everyone involved. Because dealing with the fallout? It’s not something I can handle. Owen’s my best friend. My roommate. My teammate. And Elise is way too good for me. Nothing good could come from admitting we slept together.
“Hey, Brady, you okay?” Owen asks, stopping beside me.
I grab my towel from the bench and wipe the sweat from my face. “Just fucking great,” I lie.
Inside the locker room, I strip down out of my equipment and take a lengthy shower. The hot water feels good on my aching muscles and I’m in no rush to leave the shower stall. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for the memories of Elise in my bed to fade, but I hope for my sake they do. The feel of her hands on my chest, memories of her huge blue-gray eyes peering up at mine as our bodies moved together …
I hope to God those memories fade. And not because I want to forget, but because I can barely look Owen in the eye without admitting the whole thing to him. Eventually, the water cools and I have to shut it off and get out. Wrapping a towel around my hips I wander back to my locker, and find most of the guys are already dressed.
“Oh I almost forgot,” Owen says, hoping up from the bench. He grabs a piece of paper from inside his gym bag and hands it to Asher, who’s standing beside him in nothing but a pair of baggy sweatpants.
I push one hand through my damp hair and shake my head, already knowing where this is heading.
“What’s this?” Asher asks, accepting the invoice and peering down at it.
“We had our hot tub serviced. This is the cleaning bill.” Owen drops back onto the bench, satisfied with himself, and stuffs his feet into his shoes without bothering to untie them. “There was a thong clogging the filter,” he adds at Asher’s puzzled expression.
Asher lets out a grunt of surprise. “Two hundred bucks? The girl I was with wasn’t wearing any panties. This is Teddy’s bill. Here you go, TK. That’s all you.” He hands the paper to Teddy, who looks down at it, brows creased.
On a roll now, Owen adds, “And you might want to consider some manscaping. There were pubes stuck in the drain and they charge extra for that.”
“Manscaping? Do you even hear yourself?” Teddy asks, shaking his head. He turns from the locker and shoulders his bag.
It’s a sad reality that I’ve seen these guys naked so many times I actually know their manscaping routines. Fuck, that’s just sad.
“I’m serious, man. The chicks like it. You can’t have hairy balls if you want them to be licked. That’s just reality, bro.” Owen shakes his head, face serious.
“You guys are disgusting animals, you know that right?” I ask.
“Yup,” TK and Asher both answer at once.
Teddy crumples the paper up in his fist. “This is ridiculous. Let’s call it even for all the beer you’ve snatched from my fridge.”
Owen printed the invoice from his computer—even made the letterhead look like a legit cleaning company, so he doesn’t put up a fight.
“You guys want to go eat?” Asher asks.
“Does a bear poop in the woods?” Owen replies, grinning.
I finish getting dressed quickly and follow them out of the building, hoping like hell I can survive the off-season without completely losing my shit.
6
My Own Personal Hell
Elise
Three Months Later
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Owen calls, tossing the video game controller onto the couch and shaking his head. It’s Sunday evening and I’m lounging across the gray sectional in my brother’s penthouse apartment while he gets his ass handed to him on Xbox.
Justin, sitting on the couch opposite Owen and me, only chuckles. “Four to one, bro. You lost. Again.”
Owen picks up his bottle of beer from the coffee table in front of us and takes a long swig, draining it.
“Maybe if you had stayed out of the penalty box a little more,” Justin offers.
“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Owen growls. He takes another sip, looking sullen. “You wanna play, Lise?”
I chuckle. He knows I’m God-awful at video ice hockey. “If you need someone to stroke your ego, you’re going to have to find someone else.”
Owen grins. “I want someone to stroke my---”
I hold up one hand, stopping him. “Let’s keep this family-friendly.”
“G-rated,” Justin echoes, shooting me a sympathetic look.
It’s taken me months, but I’m finally able to be in the same room as him and not want to cry. Or puke. Yay, me.
“You’re dead to me, Brady.” But Owen doesn’t mean that. He’s just pouting. They’re like brothers, they’re so close. It’s disgusting how deep their codependence runs.
“Awe. Look who gets all crabby when he loses.” Justin stands, stretching his arms over his head, making his t-shirt hitch up a couple of inches to reveal his defined set of abs.
Abs that no longer set my pulse on fire.
Okay, I’m lying. But hey, at least I’m trying to go through the motions. Even though I can still remember how those abs feel against my fingertips if I think about it long enough.
It’s been three long months of trying to forget our night together, three months of pretending it never happened, and three months of wading through the kind of tough-love therapy that only your girlfriends can dish up. It didn’t matter that that night in his bed left a permanent imprint on my heart. Didn’t matter that Justin was still the only guy who sent my pulse into overdrive. I had moved on. I was dating someone new, and I was actively working on beating Justin at his game of pretending that night didn’t exist. I wasn’t very good at that game, but it didn’t stop me from playing.
“Another beer?” Justin asks on his way to the kitchen.
“Abso-fuckin-lutely.” Owen props his feet up on the coffee table. “You wanna come out with us tonight?” my brother asks, turning to meet my eyes and giving me his best puppy-dog stare.
“Not tonight,” I say.
Justin returns with two bottles of beer and hands one to Owen before twisting the cap off his own and taking a long sip.
I force my gaze away from watching the way his throat moves as he swallows.
“I’m staying in tonight,” Justin says, setting the bottle down on the table. If I didn’t know any better, it’s almost like he’s purposely avoiding looking at me. My brother hasn’t noticed anything, but sometimes I catch Justin staring at me when no one else is looking.
I guess tonight is not one of those nights.
Owen flashes the sad puppy look at Justin. “It’s been weeks since we’ve been out.”
“Yeah but the season starts on Thursday. I want to lay low tonight.”
“Two words. Lindsay and Lisbeth.”
Justin rubs one hand over the back of his neck. “What about them?”
Owen laughs. “It’s been two weeks. We should get out. Blow off some steam.”