No way...
We ended up playing on New Year’s Eve and afterwards, we all drank champagne and made resolutions. Realization dawns over me. My eyes widen as I stare back at him. That game was the last one we won.
“Oh shit.” Shaw, Cross, and I all say at the exact same time.
“That’s gotta be it,” Tyson, one of our wingers says, nodding eagerly. “That last girl you were seeing around Thanksgiving. What was her name?”
I swallow roughly. “Robin.”
She knew the deal when we first started talking. I told her from the gate that I don’t date for love. I don’t do attachments, commitments, or strings. It’s mostly just something to occupy my free time. Who doesn’t enjoy a little companionship every now and then?
She swore she was cool with it, but things ended up changing, as they always do. She wanted more and I didn’t. We ended things right before the holiday.
“Right, right.” Tyson’s head bobs again. “You haven’t talked to anyone since your resolution, have you?”
On New Year's Eve, my resolution was to eliminate distractions, which meant swearing off dating. All the women I spoke to only saw one thing: a successful, professional athlete. Of course they always wanted more.
More is something I will never want from anyone.
“Holy shit,” Shaw says slowly, turning to face me. “That’s gotta be the reason why.”
“Shouldn’t it be the opposite?” I retort. “Getting rid of outside distractions should have me more focused on the game.”
Shaw smirks. “Theoretically, but I think you might be the exception.”
“It can’t be,” I argue, shaking my head at him, refusing to accept it as a possibility. “There’s no way.”
“But what if there is?” Theo says, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Dude, what if you need the distractions? What if you’re playing like shit because you’re overthinking it or something?”
“Hey, I’m not playing like shit.”
A few of the guys snort.
“You haven’t scored since the New Year’s Eve game,” Gray reminds me.
“On and off the ice,” Shaw chimes in, laughter chasing his words.
I rise to my feet, shaking my head at all of them. “Okay, fuck you all. It’s not my fault the entire team is playing like shit and on a losing streak. There’s no fucking chance that’s the reason behind it.”
“I mean, who’s to say it isn’t?”
All eyes are on me and judging by the looks on every single face, they might all be buying this.
“Think about it,” Theo says, rising to his feet as he walks over to me. “You’re one of our high energy guys. We all feed off of it. If you’re down, whether we realize it or not, we match that.”
My jaw drops. “You’re not seriously blaming me.”
“Not directly,” he explains, frustration washing over his expression before it fades. “At the end of the day, we’re each responsible for the way we play. There’s a synergy, a cohesiveness to our team. If one of us is off, it has a ripple effect.”
I chew on his words, letting them sink in. Again, there’s some truth behind them. Normally, when someone’s having a bad day, the rest of the team can pick up the slack. But after getting our asses handed to us time and time again, it wears you down.
“Am I supposed to just throw my resolution out the window?”
“Maybe,” Cross says, shrugging his shoulders. “It wouldn’t hurt to try, right? You just need a distraction off the ice. Someone to feed that boisterous ego of yours.”
“You do have a tendency of being a little more showy when you have someone to impress.”
What the fuck is this? An intervention? I didn’t sign up to have the entire locker room tell me about myself. I already know I’m a bit overly confident, if you will.
