“Yeah, usually,” I say, “but it got really hot last night. Did somebody turn the heat up?”
“It did get really warm last night,” Viv agrees. “When I woke up, we’d kicked the blankets on the floor, but I wasn’t cold at all, and you were bare naked.”
The freshmen stare at her, slack-jawed, and I know exactly what they’re thinking. It’s the same thing everybody thinks when they realize Viv and I like to have sleepovers. They want to know if we’re fucking. And if I answer honestly, they either won’t believe me, or they’ll pity me.
I hear the front door shut and look up to see Ollie. Based on his facial expression, he caught the tail-end of the conversation. It’s weird, because when it comes to sex, my captain is one of the most non-judgmental people in the world. But for some reason, his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline at Viv’s words, and his lips turn downward into a frown.
I know the guys all love Viv. She’s fun as hell, and since she’s Maggie’s best friend, she’s practically family, especially now that Maggie and JT are married.
But they don’t understand our relationship. They don’t get the dynamic between us.
“Don’t you have a home to go to?” Flo asks, looking right at Viv. She laughs his question off while I flip him the bird.
“Yeah, I’ve even got a single all to myself,” she says. “But Mickey and I like to watch scary shows together, and then I can never get to sleep. Plus, I hate living alone. It’s way too quiet. And this place is never quiet.”
Everybody nods, because they can’t argue with that.
Without missing a beat, she turns toward me, smiles, and offers me a pretzel. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” I answer, opening my mouth so she can toss the snack in.
“You were looking good out there, Mick. Keep doing what you’re doing, and we’re going to dominate Regionals in a couple weeks.” Ollie claps me on the back before grabbing a towel and heading for the showers. I know that, as our captain, it’s his job to motivate us, but I gotta say I appreciate the compliment anyway. I’ve been working my ass off this year, both on the ice and in the gym, and I’m glad it shows.
This team—and the guys on it—mean everything to me. I want to do my part. The thought of letting this crew down tears me up inside. It’s why I haven’t told anybody about the letter that’s still sitting in my drawer. I’ve got a meeting in a few weeks where I’ll learn my fate. I’m currently a junior, so I’m good to play next year as long as I keep taking classes. But if I want to earn an actual degree, I’ll need to stay another year. And I’ll need to take out loans to do it. And explain to everyone that I royally fucked up.
My only other option is to play through next year and then effectively drop out. I won’t have a degree, but I’m not really sure what I’d do with one, anyway. The only thing I really love is hockey. I’m hoping to get picked up by a team as a free agent, but that’s easier said than done. There’s no guarantee. Still, I think I’d rather try that than sign my life away paying off loans and working some job I can’t stand and am barely qualified for.
Fuck. Real life is depressing as shit, so I dry off, and throw some fresh clothes on. I’ll worry about the future tomorrow.Right now, I just want to go home and unwind. I want to watch bad TV with Viv. I want to play with her hair and hear about her day. I want her to bury her face in my chest when our show gets too scary or gross.
I want to forget that all of this is going to end in a matter of weeks. And I want to enjoy the hell out of it while I still can.
I slam my locker shut a little harder than necessary before turning to make my way out of the locker room.
But I can’t.
Because Dutton Fucking Wagner is standing in front of me, blocking my exit.
“Hey, Mick, you got a second?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.
There was a time not so long ago that I would have said no and pushed right past him. Hell, I might have clipped him in the jaw on my way by. I’ve hated this asshole since we met three years ago. Part of that was because, back then, we played for opposing teams. And part of it is that he’s just so damn annoying—always getting in my face, always chirping in my ear.
So yeah, we’ve had our issues in the past, the biggest one being the fact that he started dating my sister behind my back. But he makes Bridgette happy, and that’s all that really matters to me, so I’ve managed to get over it—mostly.
“You feel like grabbing a beer at Wolfie’s?” Wagner asks, and it takes me a second to realize he’s still talking to me.
Okay, this is weird. He’s not a big drinker, especially not in the weeks leading up to Regionals. And he’s not a social guy. So, if Dutton’s going, that means the rest of the team is going, and he’s been dragged into it either by Ollie or Blue, our self-appointed activity directors. Chances are pretty high that Ollie mentioned it to me earlier and my brain didn’t hang on to the information.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you over there,” I say, figuring this is what I need. Hanging out with the guys for a bit will help me relax a little. I’d much rather de-stress by spending time with Viv. Without even thinking about it, I pull out my phone and tap on our text thread.
Mickey: How was painting?
Viv: Fucking awful. I can’t believe my friends talked me into taking that class. I’m not artistic, and I never will be.
Mickey: It was that bad?
Viv: It was worse. We started self portraits tonight and mine looks like a first grader drew it.
Mickey: Nah, that’s just cause there’s no color on it yet. Once you paint it, it’ll look great.
