Chapter 23
23
R eid
I’m never a fan of morning workouts. Or morning anything, well, other than sex. I’m a night owl, either staying up late to draw or watch TV.
“Dude, what the hell?”
My arms shake as I struggle to pull myself up. I get there, but I drop to the ground and reach for my water, taking a long gulp.
“What’s up with you?” Jefferson asks, eyeing me suspiciously. We’re taking turns on the pull up bar, challenging each other to do one more each rep. I’m keeping up–barely. “You go out last night? You look hungover.”
Hungover from eating too many kolaches and having the best sex of my life.
Yeah, I said best . Sure, she was a virgin and was nervous. But being inside of her felt fucking incredible.
“I’m not hungover. I just didn’t sleep great.”
Even after Shelby and I went back upstairs, I couldn’t settle down. Her body was too close–too warm. She felt so good there. Perfect. Mine.
“You know how he is when he’s home alone,” Axel chimes in. A reminder that he’s always around and always listening. “Staying up late to watch those horror shows.”
“I caught Twyler watching Murder ID last night,” Reese rolls his eyes. “You know she gets wound up by genetic DNA.”
We all pause to look at him, trying to figure out what ‘wound up’ means in this situation but as a group let it drop. It does give me an out though. “Yeah that’s the one. I was hoping there was an update.”
“I hope you watched it up in your room. You don’t need to keep Shelby up by playing the TV outside her door.”
“I didn’t bother your sister,” I tell him, hopping up to start my next rep. Anything to get out of this conversation. “I didn’t even see her.”
Axel grunts and I feel like shit. Guilty. Like what I’m doing is wrong. Maybe it’s not honest, but it’s not wrong. It’s not like I can tell the truth and say that I’d spent the night taking your little sister’s virginity. Because she asked me to. And again this morning. And, fuck, she’s all I can think about.
Jesus, now isn’t the time to get hard.
I focus on the pull ups, willing my boner under control, and listen to Reese. “I know I’m always going on about the playoffs, but I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves. We’re two games from clenching this and getting a top seed. One of those games should be a lock, but we’ve got to get through Milton first.”
Milton U has always been a thorn in Wittmore’s side. They’re notoriously tough on defense and have an All-American power forward, Finn Austin, that has already been drafted to Toronto. There are few players out there that can compete with Reese’s skill and leadership. Austin is one of them.
“Finish up your workout,” Reese says, “go to class, hydrate, hook up with your girl–” he winks at Tolbert, “or guy if you need to, and everyone be on the ice at four PM.”
“What if I can only fit in one of those things,” Axel asks, toying with the ring in his lip.
“Then you better see if Nadia has time in her schedule,” Jefferson jokes, throwing a towel at Ax’s face.
“My girl always has time for me.”
But it gets me thinking. I’m busy all day. Shelby’s working tonight. There’s no way I’m going to get time with her. With the clock ticking, I’m not sure I’m okay with that.
The guys rack their weights and wipe everything down before heading out for the day. Some change in the locker room, others head back home, pulling on sweats and jackets to make the cold walk across campus. Axel is pulling a beanie over his head when my phone buzzes with a text.
He picks it up off the bench and says, “Who’s GG?”
“Dude!” I grab it from him and shove it under some clothes in my locker. “None of your damn business.”
“Okay then,” he holds up his hands. My heart shot straight up my chest and is making an attempt to escape through my throat. “Don’t tell us.”
“It’s no big deal,” I tell them, hating myself for lying. “Just a girl I met.”
“Sure, okay,” Jeff says, like he’s not convinced.
Whatever. The less questions, the better it is for me. Neither say anything else and head out. Reese is always the last one to leave, so I linger a bit, fussing with my hair, waiting until it’s just the two of us.
“So,” I start, tossing a few things in my locker, “yeah, I’m kind of seeing someone.”
He waits for a beat and then says, “Is it Dar–”
“No. Definitely not.” I can’t blame him for thinking it. I also realize, that’s exactly what Axel and Jeff were thinking too. Let them. “It’s new and I don’t know where it’s going to go so I’m not looking to make a big deal about it.”
“I can respect that.” He glances over at me. “So why are you telling me this? I’m your captain, not a priest.”
God, this is awkward. “I was just wondering what do you do when things are rushed like this and you need a little time with Twyler?”
“Are you telling me you never were in this situation with Darla?”
“With Darla things were never…” I search for the word, “... intense?”
He snorts. “Desperate.”
“Yeah, maybe. You know she was never into showing outward affection.” As I talk, I feel like I’m just listing a series of red flags that I should have noticed. “But we also weren’t being discrete. Not like you and Twyler in the beginning.”
His jaw tightens and he looks around, as if he’s making sure no one can over hear. After an exhale he says, “Room number one-ten.”
“Room what?”
“One-ten. The athletic tutoring office in the student center.” He slams his locker shut. “It’s a good mid-day hookup spot.”
I’ve been there before and I think about the couch. The work desk. Yeah, I can see it. “That’s pretty smart.”
“Well, don’t you tell a fucking soul about it.” There’s not a trace of humor in his tone. “The last thing we need is every jock on campus hooking up in there.”
“Gotcha.” I pause. “If it’s such a secret, then why are you telling me?”
“If you were going to see Darla, I probably wouldn’t have. That girl…” he grimaces, and keeps whatever thoughts he has about her to himself. “I’m proud of you for moving on and finding someone new, even if it’s just a rebound.” It takes everything in me not to tell him this isn’t a rebound, but the truth is that maybe it is? Hell if I know. He slings his bag over his shoulder and adds, “There’s another reason I’m telling you about the room…”
“What’s that?”
“You play better when you’re getting laid.”
Reid: Morning. What are you up to?
GG: Making a new batch of kolaches. Someone ate the other ones.
I smile down at my phone as I cross campus and type: I want to say I have no regrets but my body definitely felt our late night gorge fest during my workout
GG: Sorry about that
Reid: Don’t be sorry. It was perfect. Any chance we can meet up on campus before you head to work and practice?
Do I feel a little bit like a dirtbag asking Shelby to come to campus to hook up with me? Maybe. But there’s just enough apprehension that she’ll say no. That maybe she has her own regrets from last night. That fear fades when she replies.
GG: Where and when?
I’m fully aware of the smug grin on my face as I walk into class and it’s still there an hour later when I walk into the student union. I’m early. Shelby shouldn’t be here for another twenty minutes, so I use the time to grab some food from one of the vendors.
I’ve just taken a bite of my chicken wrap when I sense a disturbance in the force. That’s right. Darla.
Without asking she pulls out the chair across from mine and sits.
“I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.”
“This won’t take long.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What won’t take long?”
“I still need to get that stuff back to you. Is there a good time for me to stop by the Manor?”
“Eh,” I shrug, focusing on my lunch, “it’s obviously nothing I’ve missed so, keep it, toss it, donate it to charity. Whatever is easiest.”
She looks a little taken aback by my aloofness, but I’m pretty surprised myself. Just a few weeks ago seeing or talking about her came with complicated feelings. Now? I just want to finish my lunch and go meet Shelby. But Darla has always liked everything tidy and neat. Organized. And having something un-finished has to be bothering her.
Good.
“I’ve heard that after a month of chasing puck bunnies, you’ve been pretty MIA.” She leans back in the chair. “Is something going on?”
I laugh. “If there was, would you have the right to know?”
“I just worry about you.”
I set down my wrap, my appetite gone. “Really?”
“Just because I didn’t see a future with us together, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I know the breakup was hard, and the last thing I want is for you to spiral.”
I’m surprised. No, I’m fucking stunned. Does she really think the reason I haven’t been around is that I’m not over her? It takes everything in me not to tell her I’ve got someone in my life, even if what we have is temporary, that makes the pain of our break up nonexistent. It proves to me that it’s worth fighting for more than a girl that never wanted what I did.
I should keep my mouth shut and just walk away, go find Shelby and move on. But Darla sits in front of me with that expression of fake concern and I snap. “Why did you do it? Why did you pretend you wanted the same thing I did? The long term commitment? The engagement? Why did you not only go along with it, but encourage it? Was everything just a game?”
I hate myself for asking all of those questions, but I’d been holding onto them for too long. I shouldn’t be surprised that she has an answer ready. “College is for experimenting. For trying on new things. You were different from the guys I dated before.”
“So you thought you’d try on a jock for a few years, lock him down, and then bail?”
“That’s the thing, Reid, I always thought you were more than just a jock. You’re an incredibly talented artist who could do so much more if you put in the effort.”
For most women, making it to the top level in professional sports would be a turn on. For Darla, it’s a detraction. I’ve always been creative, all those hours of sketching and drawing as a kid, helped me develop a real talent. Darla helped me explore that further with fashion. It’s not that I don’t love those things, but I love hockey too. I love my team. I love the thrill of it. She’s the one that can’t handle that there is more to me than just one thing.
It takes everything in me not to gloat about the opportunity I have with designing the Wittmore logo, but I keep it to myself. It’s not for her to ruin or to claim some kind of ownership.
“Don’t pretend like things would be different if I chose a different career path. It’s not about what I do that matters to you. It’s who I am. I was never good enough for you long term, and you won’t admit it.”
It’s the biggest challenge I’ve probably ever presented her and in the end she doesn’t bite.
“Reid, in three months you’ll be in New York somewhere busy with hockey. Sitting in the stands and waiting while you travel around the country, that’s not who I want to be. You know that I’ve never had any interest in being a WAG.” She shoots me a sad grin. “But that didn’t mean we couldn’t have fun for a while.”
And there it is. She never supported my goals and dreams. She was just wasting everyone's time. I stand, pushing my chair back and grabbing my trash. I look down at her. “Here’s the thing. It hurt when you dumped me, not because we were over but because I realized I let myself get fooled into believing you wanted the same thing that I did. I was honest with you. I told you what I wanted for my future, and you played along, all the way down to designing a goddamn ring. And it turns out you never wanted it. You never even wanted me. That all of it was just some kind of game. That’s next level crazy.”
Instead of acknowledging this she just shoots back in a patronizing tone, “Reid, there’s a girl out there for you. Someone who wants the same thing you do, it may just take a while.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice someone coming our direction, then double-take when I see that it’s Shelby. Her gaze darts to Darla, and there’s a beat where I’m unsure of what is about to happen. That is, until Shelby shifts her focus back on me and gives me a slow, sweet grin.
“Hey, babe.” She walks right up to me and presses a warm kiss against my throat before curling into my side.
“Hey,” I blink, then instinctively wrap my arm around her, pulling her tight, “beautiful.”
“Sorry I got held up. The Manor was a mess after last night.” Her hand flattens on my stomach, fingers curling into my sweater. A ripple of warmth spreads from the touchpoint. “You been waiting long?”
“Nope, just finishing up.”
“Hi,” Darla says, standing. “I’m Darla.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shelby grins politely. “I’m GG.”
If my mind is blown right now, then Darla’s is in full nuclear meltdown. My ex stares at us in disbelief, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tries to place her. She may sense the familiarity, but her irritation of… what? Me being happy? Me having someone in my life? Me moving on? Seems to have disrupted her narrative of what is going on in my life.
“GG,” she repeats. “Well, that’s cute.”
“A nickname,” Shelby says, grinning up at me, like we share a secret.
“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Darla says, not sounding glad in the least. For someone very over me she sounds a little annoyed. “Good luck.”
I don’t wish it back, instead letting her walk away while I focus on the girl glued to my side.
“That,” I say, once Darla is out of earshot, “was very impressive.”
“What was?” she asks innocently, still glued to my side. There are people milling around us, most paying no attention, but I know my status on campus. Someone will notice, and I hate to say it, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Rolling up on me like a badass, being possessive and slightly petty. That’s next level. I’m not even sure Nadia could execute a scene like that with such skill.” I run my hand up and down her back. “Where did you learn that?”
“You forget where I grew up,” she says, accent sweet as honey. “And there’s no one better at being passive aggressive while staking our claim than a southern church lady.”