The person you know will always be in your corner, even when the whole world is against you. Yeah, I’ve never had that person.
I did have a serious girlfriend all through college. Turned out she wanted me for her image, for how dating me made her look. She had no personal interest in me whatsoever. Idon’t think the word monogamy existed in her dictionary.
No problem with that, but a heads-up would’ve been nice before I walked in to see her crowded by a quarter of my team with barely any clothes on and getting some action.
It’s been almost five years, but it still keeps me from giving a real shot to a relationship. Yeah, that kinda shit tends to stick with you for longer than you think.
Then I quit the dating scene, solely focused on becoming the best in the sport I loved so much, knowing that at least hockey would never cheat on me or embarrass me. All I had left in me were meaningless hookups.
Being a star player makes puck bunnies fawn all over you, all ready and willing for a one-night stand. They knew the score. Though I always used protection and never slept with the same girl twice. It has surely saved me a lot of trouble.
The taxi’s honk puts an abrupt halt to my retrospective thoughts. Paying the driver, I enter my apartment building, where I greet Abe, the building watchman.
I chat with him and ask what’s new with his wife, Maria. He tells me she’s visitingtheir son and grandchildren, though he misses her something fierce. I bet. I’ve seen them together and never found a couple more suited for each other.
Jet lagged, I take my leave and head straight for a shower as soon as the elevator opens in my penthouse. Shedding the clothes off in record time, I groan in relief as the hot water relaxes and soothes my tight-strung muscles on its way down.
Spending God knows how long in the shower, I let myself out when my skin starts to prune. Donning my team’s old jersey, which has surely seen better days, and a pair of blue shorts, I walk from my bedroom into my living room.
The penthouse features a floor-to-ceiling window on one side and a monochrome color scheme for the walls, consisting of gray and the darkest shade of purple. The open-kitchen format adjoins the living room with a few bar stools along the mahogany bar counter.
Padding over to the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and gulp it down as I dry my hair with the other hand, using the towel around my neck. I didn’t realize how parched I was until the liquid found its way down my throat.
Placing the bottle on the counter, I lean on it, grabbing the edge with both hands. As I look around the stunning but empty place, the never-ending loud silence taunts me, reminding me of how utterly lonely I am.
Letting my head fall between my shoulders, I wish I had someone to come home to after these long away games. It would’ve made the win much sweeter. A warm embrace to fall into, a set of pouty lips to kiss and savor. A head of red hair to lose myself in.
My eyes snap open when I realize that my dream woman somehow turned into the exact replica of the only woman to hate me as fiercely as Kaeli does. If she ever found out the thoughts that run rampant in my brain, she’d surely rip me a new one, but not before kicking me in my balls.
I can already imagine the fire that would light up in her eyes at the prospect of yelling at me, giving me her snappy attitude as sassy words drip like honey from her perfect lips, only to burn my skin in the end.
When I move to place the bottle back in the fridge, the reflection staring back at me from the surface of the closed door surprises me with a bigsmile plastered on its face like an idiot.
I swear, this woman will either give me an aneurysm or a set of very painful blue balls.
Two
Kaeli
Working for the Boston Bandits is more than what I dreamed of.
After that disastrous interview three years ago, I didn’t think I’d get a chance at the internship. But a couple of weeks later, I was beyond elated when I got the call to come in and start as soon as I could.
I couldn’t believe it. I thought I had lost my only shot at it becausesomeonedidn’t pay attention to where he was walking.
On the very first day, Stacy warmlywelcomed me and encouraged me to do my best. She stuck her neck out for me in front of Mr. Mullens and convinced him to give me a chance. She expressed that it was because she was impressed with my work and saw my potential to become even better.
I was beyond grateful to her for sticking up for me even when she didn’t know me. And I was so proud that my work spoke for itself. So, basically, it was Stacy’s trust and my capabilities that landed me the job. No thanks tohim, obviously.
He was shocked to see me walking in the arena, to say the least. The rush of immense satisfaction upon seeing his expression still fuels me from time to time to prove to him that even after the disaster he had a hand in orchestrating, I’m still standing here, all on my own merit.
Now, I’m a Social Media Manager for the Bandits. And life couldn’t be better. I smile to myself as I twirl in my seat in my office in the arena, only to be interrupted by the door opening as he barges in with no regard to my privacy or basic human etiquette, it seems. The door slams shut behind him.
Spoke too soon, I guess.
Slumping down in the empty chair across frommy table, Ezra crosses his hands behind his head as he keeps his eyes trained on me.
The smile on my face slips as I lean back in my chair at his abrasive attitude. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” I deadpan, my tone carrying the lilt of annoyance at him.
