“No guy?How about a girl?”he calls out.“Are you queer too?I support you!”
“Nope.Dick all the way!”I call back and keep walking.If I were queer, maybe it would be easier because then there would be someone with a uterus in the relationship, and it could go somewhere.No man who wants kids is going to attach themselves to a woman who can’t have them.
Landon and Grady bought a gorgeous clapboard four-bedroom barn-style home with a wraparound porch, a block from the ocean in a quaint little seaside village called Ocean Pines, where our mom’s side of the family has been summering for generations.Grady had been renting a condo on the ocean a couple streets away before they moved in together, so Callan and I took over his lease.It gives me easy access to Randie when I need to babysit, but also feels a little isolated now that I think I have a stalker.
Pete and I had a good time the night we hooked up this summer.But it was supposed to be one night.I don’t want a boyfriend.I mean, I wouldn’t actively run from the right guy, but the criteria for that guy narrowed significantly after I had my emergency hysterectomy.And honestly, I’m not in a place to find the right one.I’m unhappy with my life, and I need to fix it and my mindset before I think about settling down.
Hook-ups give me a shot at feeling desired, which I need, without the mental gymnastics or vulnerability of dating.Pete had just come out of a relationship and said he was on the same page.When we hooked up, the sex was good, and he was cool afterward, not weird.So when he showed up at the bar a few nights later, we exchanged numbers and hooked up again.I told him again, after the second time, as bluntly as possible, that I wasn’t looking for a relationship.He said it was fine, and I didn’t hear from him for two weeks.
But then I caught a late-summer cold and called off a shift.Pete went to the bar that night, and Todd told him I was sick.Pete showed up at my door with chicken soup and Nyquil.I asked whether the bar had given him my address, which would be a huge privacy violation, but it was worse than that.He had been waiting for me after a shift a week prior and followed me home.He said he was worried because it was raining and some roads were flooded.I told him it felt very creepy, declined his gifts, and asked him to leave.
Callan had been home and, although I refused to let him meet Pete and kept our interaction outside, he made me feel like a jerk for declining a “nice gesture.”I didn’t tell Callan I wasn’t the one who gave Pete my address.And since that night, Pete had been calling and texting way too much.Nothing ominous or mean—mostly memes or stuff that seemed friendly, like “Want to hang out after your shift?”or “Are you still mad I tried to be nice?”
But he’d sent me flowers twice since showing up at my place, which felt like a wild overstep.I finally blocked his number today after we’d met up—at my request—so I could tell him face-to-face that I wasn’t comfortable with how he was acting and didn’t want to be friends.
“Lola, we have chemistry.”He’d scoffed at my request to go our separate ways.“Isn’t that what all women want?Our hook-ups are amazing.”
“They were fun,” I’d hedged calmly.“But I’m just not looking for anything more.I’m concentrating on me.And my career goals.”
“You bartend,” he’d snapped.
“Not full-time and not for long.”I don’t know why I felt like I had to defend myself.
“Lola, come on,” Pete said as if I was being irrational.“You’re throwing away a good thing.”
“I’m gonna go.”
He had followed me out of the coffee shop.On the sidewalk, he’d grabbed my arm, gently, but I still jumped.“You weren’t just a random hook-up.I don’t do those.I like you.This is something.”
“No, it’s not, Pete.Not for me.I’m sorry.”Why did I add the sorry?Because it’s one of those things women are inclined to do—apologize for our feelings, or lack thereof.I hate that he’d made me a stereotypical female when I want to be anything but.
“Is there someone else?I saw a guy go into your apartment yesterday.He had a key.”
My heart stopped.“Why were you at my apartment yesterday?”
“I was in the area, so I swung by.Are you in a relationship?Did you cheat with me?”Pete looked at me like I was pathetic.“God, Lola, if I’m worth cheating with, I’m worth being with.”
“That was not a boyfriend.That was…” I caught myself.“It doesn’t matter who that was.Do not contact me again, and if I see you at my apartment, I’ll call the cops.Fuck off.”
“Don’t be like this!”Pete had called after me on the sidewalk.“What are you scared of, Lola?”
I blocked his number as I walked to the arena to meet Grady.I was genuinely freaked out by Pete, even though he never threatened or hurt me.But that fear made me feel weak and stupid, and that’s why I hid in the bathroom until I could stop crying.Which is when I ran into Theo Richard, who, it seems, honored my request not to tell Grady I’d been crying because he didn’t bring it up tonight.
I move quickly down the streets I’ve known my whole life.The summer crowds are gone, and most of the tiny shops in the village have closed for the season.I scan my surroundings continually, and I don’t stop to enjoy the balmy fall night or the sounds of the waves crashing a few yards away on the beach.I don’t revel in the salty smell of the air that I love so much.I hate that all I want to do is get home and lock the door.
Callan isn’t there when I finally do that.The apartment is still, and the only light is from the night lights I put in every room when we moved in.I have never liked the dark, so I’ve used nightlights since I was a kid.My ex Ryan used to tease me about it and thought it was silly the way I’d put one in every room, so it was never fully dark anywhere.He also thought it was hilarious to unplug them and watch my anxiety skyrocket when I walked into a dark room.Yeah, he was a joy.
I walk through the entire apartment, flipping on the lights in every room to make sure I’m alone.Pete has me freaking out about nothing now.I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding and head to my room.A bonus of this place, if I have to live with my brother, is that the bedrooms are on opposite sides of the apartment, and each has its own bathroom.So I don’t have to hear him banging whatever chicks he’s brought home over the last six weeks.There’ve been a few.He’s enjoying his newfound celebrity as a local professional athlete, and I don’t fault him for it.I just don’t want to hear it happening.
I turn on the kettle and head to my room while the water boils.I change into pajamas and then wander back out to the kitchen and make some chamomile tea.Once I’m snuggled in bed with my tea, I grab my phone, but instead of opening my Kobo app, I find myself Googling Theo Richard.
Articles fill my screen, most of them about the accident that caused the scars I saw on his right shoulder and left bicep.The articles seem shocked—apparently, no one knew he had a drinking problem.His record on the ice didn’t reflect any kind of issue.He was a top-tier offensive-defenseman.He blocked shots, scored goals, and chirped effectively, making his opponents take stupid penalties.A leader in the locker room.Loved by all.
I fall into a Reddit rabbit hole where fans reflect on his spiral.A few of them saw it coming, especially local Vegas fans who had run into him drunk on the Strip.A poster namedGoalGirl1881from Quebec, where Theo’s career started, claims she used to be his bed buddy and that he started and ended his day with booze.In fact, she said in two years of them sleeping together, she never saw him sober, but that didn’t stop him from performing—on the ice or in bed.
“TMI…” I mutter and then watch a video of him fighting in a game while I sip my tea.I hate that I find hockey fights hot, but they really fucking are.
In this clip, Theo’s dark eyes are wild and cocky, and his helmet is off so his thick, sweaty dark hair is flying… and so is his left hook.The other guy is turtled on the ice after two swings from Theo.The ref hauls Theo to the penalty box, but Theo doesn’t stop chirping.His mouth hurls insults through a snarky, confident smile.Was he drunk in that moment?He looks sober as he grins at the crowd and gives them a wave, which makes them roar.
