Zack(18)

Michelle is a piece of work. She’s twice divorced, having dumped husband number two more than a year ago because he was cheating on her. It didn’t make her give up on men, though. Gina told me that within a week of the papers being signed, Michelle proudly stated that she was already on the hunt for husband number three. Since she was getting up in advanced age—to her, turning thirty was like a death sentence or something—she decided to get some enhancements to help in her quest.

Gina and I couldn’t help but laugh as she first got breast implants, then cheek implants, and then hair extensions, and finally capped it all off with a new slutty wardrobe. She pranced around the neighborhood in low-cut shirts, Daisy Duke shorts, and high heels…in the fucking wintertime.

I shit you not.

Looked fucking ridiculous, but Gina was partial to her, and Ben and Beau got along great, so I put up with their friendship and tolerated her with a friendly smile.

I’ll admit she’s become frustratingly more annoying in the last few months, taking it upon herself to cook for me and Ben a few times a week, which in my estimation gave her an excuse to come over with Beau and try to flirt. Luckily, I was so immersed in depression and guilt, most of it slid right off me. But lately, as I’ve been trying desperately to find things to grasp on to and open myself back up to life, it’s been grating on me.

I sure as shit am not looking to become husband number three to her or anyone. Hell, I couldn’t even bring myself to become husband number one to Gina, and just thinking that makes a fresh wave of culpability slam through me. That I couldn’t even commit myself enough to Gina to make an honest woman of her.

Shaking my head, I clear my throat, which has tightened up. “Listen,” I tell Kate. “I could be really late, so don’t worry. I’ll just see you both in the morning.”

“You got it, HOS,” she says smartly. “And that’s H-O-S…Hell. On. Skates.”

This time I laugh, and I welcome it. It chases the guilt away for a few blessed moments. I disconnect and toss my phone into my gym bag that sits at the bottom of my locker.

I proceed to get out of my practice gear, throwing the sweaty uniform in the massive rolling laundry cart that sits in the corner of the locker room and which the equipment manager will handle washing later. I grab my towel and shower kit and walk into the showers. It’s filled with my teammates, laughing and joking as they wash the sweat of a good practice and an even better season off of themselves.

I let it all in…the camaraderie, the joking, the unity and bonding that happen among a close-knit team. These men were all there for me when Gina died. They all supported me through my recovery and never once made me feel as if I wouldn’t be back out on the ice with them one day.

Next to Ben, the Cold Fury team is the only thing that is giving me the fortitude to want to fight my way out of misery and try to lead a happy life again.





Chapter 6


Kate


I close the book I’m reading and place it on the nightstand beside my bed, not able to get immersed in the sweeping epic romance of a lifetime. Or some crap like that.

Normally, I’m a true romantic at heart. You may not know it by looking at me, but I am the type of woman who hopes her knight in shining armor comes to sweep her up one day. I know it’s a long shot, especially since I don’t do anything to encourage said knight to look my way.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Ever since I reached the age of thirteen, I went out of my way to make myself unnoticeable to the opposite sex. This came on the heels of being cornered at my locker at school one afternoon in a deserted hallway by four older boys. Puberty came early to my body and I filled out on top in such a way as to catch the boys’ attention. Because we were so poor, I had no choice in the clothing I wore, which consisted of only Kelly’s hand-me-down stuff, and because she was the type that liked boys at an early age, her stuff tended to be tighter and more revealing. I’m thinking that’s maybe why she got pregnant with her first child when she was sixteen.

At any rate, the boys scared a few years off my life by getting suggestive and grabby with me, making lewd comments about my breasts. When one of them tried to drag me into the boys’ bathroom, I kicked him in the nuts and screamed my head off, which caused one of the teachers to come barreling out of her classroom.

I couldn’t help the tears in my eyes because I was scared out of my mind, and with a shaking voice, I told her what happened.

And do you know what she said to me?

She said, “Well, if you wouldn’t wear clothes like that, the boys wouldn’t notice.”

And you know what else?