I guess he did notice. I shrug and lean my head back against the cushion. “I’m not in a funk. I just don’t like the off-season as much as you bastards seem to. Glad it’s over.”
Somehow Owen has a way of turning a quiet night at home playing video games into a chance for him to hookup. The dude’s a major manwhore, and that’s saying something coming from me. But Owen just takes it to a whole new level.
I wander into the kitchen and help myself to another bottle of beer, popping the top off and taking a deep swig as I rest one hip against the counter. I’m really not in the mood for our place to turn into a party pad tonight.
Owen enters the kitchen to grab a drink for himself and stops to appraise me. “You alright, man?”
I nod, and take another sip. “Just fucking peachy.” I force a fake smile.
Owen rolls his eyes. “You know I can see straight through you.”
I shrug. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
He twists off the top of his beer and tosses it across the room where it lands inside the trash can. “Not the chick from South Carolina, I hope.”
“It was Tennessee, and nope. I haven’t given her a second thought.”
Okay that’s not exactly the truth. That situation was one of the reasons I started looking at casual hookups differently.
Owen knows the full sordid story. When I found out I had a kid on the way, of course I’d confided in my best friend. Shit, I’d been scared out of my mind.
I’d flown to Nashville and then rented a car to make the trip to her place. We’d kept in touch pretty much daily since she told me she was pregnant. We weren’t together, but that didn’t stop me from checking on her, asking about the baby, or sending money for the things she said she needed. I had mentally prepared myself to be part of this child’s life, no matter what happened, but when I showed up on her doorstep, all of that unraveled. Quickly.
She answered the door stumbling and slurring her words. It didn’t take long to figure out she’d been drinking, and she was stick-thin. She certainly didn’t look seven months pregnant like she had claimed. When I pressed her for the truth, she started crying and admitted everything.
After an entire day spent travelling, the whole time feeling equal parts terrified but determined that I was going to be a good father, only to find that she had lied to me, I left there in a fog. I spent a sleepless night in a cheap motel by the airport since I couldn’t get a flight out until the following morning. I’d envisioned assembling a crib and painting walls, and maybe getting to listen to the baby’s heartbeat … instead all my life choices suddenly hit me at full force. I laid on a lumpy mattress listening to highway traffic and started to wonder if there was more out there than just meaningless sex.
Owen clears his throat, and I realize he’s still watching me.
I lick my lips and cross one ankle over the other. “So, this guy Elise is seeing. What do you know about him?”
Owen shrugs. “He’s a teacher. Treats her well, she says. I haven’t met the dude yet, but I intend to.”
It stings to hear him say this. Of course I want her to be treated well, but most of me hoped to hear him say that the guy was a douchebag. And then what? We hatch a plan to go over to her apartment and get her to break up with this guy? Fuck. This isn’t high school anymore.
I know I missed my shot with her, but that doesn’t make the thought of her with someone else sting any less. I’ve had a crazy run over the past few months and my emotions are all over the fucking place.
I give a half nod. “Just want to make sure she’s being treated right.”
Owen looks over at me, his eyes tracking the movement of my beer to my lips as he watches me. “Elise can handle herself. She wouldn’t do anything stupid.”
I nod. She can handle herself. I remember that all too well. The way her hands had clamped down on my naked ass to tug me closer, the way she ground her pelvis against mine, seeking her release. The breathy gasps she made into my neck when she came.
I swallow and look down at the bottle I’m gripping way too tightly in my fist. “Yeah, she’s a smart girl,” I manage at last. I need to close my damn mouth before I say something I shouldn’t.
Owen nods, and wanders back to the living room—thank God, because I’m not sure how much longer I can go on with this charade.
I know I don’t deserve a girl like her, I fuck up everything I touch, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting Elise. I still hate myself that I never found a way to apologize for that night, and make it right. Although I’m not sure there is a way to make it right when you drunkenly take your teammate’s little sister to bed.
A little while later, the girls arrive. Kaitlyn, Kirsten and something else with a K that I already forgot. I’m so not in the mood for this shit, and when they talk the girls into playing strip poker, I head out onto the balcony with my beer and my somber thoughts, just wanting to be alone.
The cool, dark air fits my mood perfectly. Part of me wants to text Elise and check on her, but the rest of me knows that would be a terrible idea. We’ve barely exchanged three sentences since that night. I can’t exactly strike up a conversation out of the blue just because I’m jealous that she’s seeing someone. She’s going exactly what she should do be doing—moving on with her life.
The balcony door slides open and one of the girls saunters out. Kaitlyn I think, but fuck, I’m not sure.
“Hey,” she says, her voice small. “Thought you could use some company out here.” She wanders closer, watching me.
“You’re not much for strip poker?” I ask.
She sits down next to me, folding her legs beneath her and hugging her arms around her chest. It’s cold out here, and she’s not exactly dressed for the weather in leggings and a thin t-shirt. “I suck at poker,” she says, eyes meeting mine.
I inhale slowly, then bring my beer to my lips, taking a long drink.
“So what position do you play?” she asks.
“Forward,” I say, still looking out at the city skyline. One thing I love about Elise. We never talk hockey. I smile at the realization. It’s a huge part of my life, and Elise gets that, but we never bother with the mundane chit-chat about it because she’s been there for the whole ride.
“That means you try to score,” she says with a smile. I appreciate a good double entendre as much as the next guy, but tonight I can’t find it in me to smile back.
“That’s the idea.” I take another sip, looking out at the skyline, and it’s quiet for a moment.
“You must love it,” she says.
“Yeah, I do. I’ve been playing since I was four.”
I’m just waiting for her to make some comment about how I’m good with my stick or some other euphemism I’ve heard eight thousand times before, but instead she places one hand on my thigh and leans closer. “It’s kind of chilly out here. If you wanted to go inside, maybe just to talk, I’d be okay with that.”
I glance over and meet her eyes. It’s dark out so I can’t see their color, just the heavy makeup she’s wearing. For a split-second I consider her offer. I could fuck Elise out of my memory. She’d been the last girl in my bed. I’ve messed around a little, but I haven’t brought anyone else to my bed. And this girl sitting beside me … She’s pretty, she seems nice enough, and she’s clearly into me, that much is obvious. And yet I have zero interest in her.
There’s not so much as a twitch of interest in my pants.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”
“I’m not actually here to seduce you. You just seemed sad.”
“That’s… kind of you. But I’m okay, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
Kaitlyn, or whatever her name is nods, but she seems unconvinced.
“Have a good night,” I say, standing.
Without waiting for her response, I trudge across the balcony and head inside.
When I pull the sliding door open and walk inside, it’s to the sound of laughter.
“Damn, that was fast champ!” Asher calls.
“Minute man,” Teddy coughs into his fist.
I don’t correct them, I just continue in a straight line to my bedroom and close the door.
Inside, I lean both hands against my dresser and draw a deep breath. I desperately need things to go back to normal. My sanity depends on it. We’ve got a huge season ahead of us, and I need to be playing my best if we’re going to follow up our performance from last season where we took home the championship title. I can’t allow Elise, or who she’s dating, to get in the way of that. It’s time to let her move on… so I can also move on.
8
Dumplings
Elise
“Excellent work,” I say, bending down to inspect the finger-painting mess my eight toddlers are currently making at the table. There are yellow suns and red flowers, and a whole lot of brownish squiggly smears.