11. Hayes
11
hayes
“ G reat game, boys! You were buzzin’ tonight!” our coach, Gordon Calhoun, whoops as he comes into the locker room after the game. We beat Omaha 3-1, and I had a fucking hot stick tonight. “Game puck tonight is going to the guy with two goals and an assist, already making his mark on this team. This one’s for you, Larsy!” All the guys cheer in deep voices, my nickname echoing around the locker room, and those around me pat me on the back, huge ass smiles on their faces. Being the new guy on the team, it’s a big deal to get this game puck.
Jordan Boucher stops by to congratulate me. “Way to fucking start the season, Larsy! We’re all going for drinks after the game; you wanna join?”
Bougie is a rookie this season, already earning his nickname from his obsession with designer everything. We all have to wear suits to the games, but he takes it to the next level wearing every designer label he can. He has Gucci belts for fucks sakes. I like nice clothes, but I’m not about to shell out fucking five-hundred dollars for a belt.
“Thanks man, but I’ll pass tonight. Hit me up next time though,” I reply.
He pouts, sticking out his lower lip like he’s not an adult playing a professional sport. “Come on, Larsy; don’t be a pussy! Have a few drinks, unwind, maybe meet a few puck bunnies…” he says in a sing-song voice.
I let out a laugh, my stomach clenching at the idea of chasing anyone but Olivia. “ No thanks . I’ve had my fill of puck bunnies, Bougie. Now I’m an old man who just wants to go home and chill.”
“Okay Grandpa ,” he says walking away with a fake limp using his stick like a cane. “Be a fucking Wheel Watcher and go home. Just know that while you’re trying to buy an ‘o’ to solve the puzzle, I’ll be balls deep in a sexy woman giving her the best ‘o’ of her life.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. Oh, to be twenty-one again. So full of yourself without a care in the world.
“Ignore him,” Vladi says, coming up beside me. “Fucking rookies.” I snort, remembering what I was like freshly drafted to the ice. “That one especially. He’s cocky as shit, and it doesn’t help he’s a trust fund baby and doesn’t need a dime of his salary. If he doesn’t do his job and keep the puck away from my goal, he’s getting a fucking beating.”
“Always so kindhearted, aren’t you, Vladi?” I say with a wink.
“Just call it like I see it,” he says in a monotonous tone, his voice having the slightest hint of a Russian accent.
“You going out with them?”
“Fuck no; I’m going home too. My old ass is tired,” he yells over his shoulder, walking towards the showers.
Stripping down and heading towards the promise of relief for my sore muscles, I finally have a moment to think back to seeing Olivia tonight. She’s our fucking anthem singer, which means I finally found my dream girl. The way my heart and my dick, got an instant hard-on when I heard that voice and saw her across the ice made it hard to breathe. Then, I saw that bitch-ass boyfriend of hers off the ice, on his damn phone the entire time she was singing. My mood sours, my face falling flat as my jaw ticks. I channel all my rage into soaping up and rinsing off, my fingers leaving marks against my skin with how much I fucking hate that guy. If I start thinking about the girl I’ve been obsessed with for weeks while I’m showering, it’s going to be evident real fast I’m not replaying my goals from tonight’s game. The only goal I’m interested in is finding Olivia and making her mine.
Bitch-ass boyfriend be damned.
I finally dress back into my suit and head down the long hallway leading to the underground players’ parking area. Walking past the staff green room, I hear someone crying as they try to talk. I wonder what that’s about. As I walk past the door, I can’t help but take a quick peek inside.
And there, sitting in a chair crying, is Olivia.
My chest tightens as I try to reign in my protective instincts that are screaming at me to run to her. Then I hear her douchebag boyfriend say, “Stop crying. Will you just stop crying, please!?”
I swear to all the hockey Gods listening, I’m going to punch this cocksucker in the face. Fucker deserves it. Everyone knows the cardinal rule when a girl is crying is you never say, ‘stop crying.’ I continue walking past the door to the green room but stop to listen, leaning against the wall next to the door. I know I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but I need to know why Olivia is crying. I need to know if she’s okay.
“How could you do this to me, Cayden?”
I stand up from the wall and move a little closer to the door. Should I do something?
“What’s the big deal anyway? It’s not like you get paid to sing here or anything.”
Olivia scoffs. “What’s the big deal?!” she mutters as I hear her fighting back tears with a tightness in her throat, “The big deal is you got me fired by bringing pucks with you to get autographed when you know that’s against the rules. My boss found out about it. He actually showed me a screenshot of the pucks posted for sale online, and now I’m done. No more games. No more singing for the Riders. I love this team and the staff here; it’s an amazing opportunity to get my name out there, and you blacklisted me from the entire organization. That’s what the big deal is!”
Holy shit why does her standing up to him get me a little turned on.
“It’s not like your music career is going anywhere anyway,” Cayden whines.
“Oh, hell no,” I whisper to myself. All of my restraint flies out of the window. I can’t stand here for another second and act like I’m not hearing this asshole talk to her like this. I ball my hands up into fists, my knuckles going white as my hands shake, trying to contain my rage as I storm into the room looking only at Olivia. “Are you okay?”
She looks at me with those same longing eyes from a few weeks ago, stunned, but doesn’t reply. Eyes that are now bloodshot and glistening with tears. My chest aches seeing her broken heart so exposed.
“Oh, wow! Hayes Larson!” I hear douche canoe say from across the room.
I don’t give him the courtesy of looking his way; I only focus on Olivia as I softly ask again, “Olivia, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she mumbles, but the tense and overwhelming sadness in her eyes tell me she’s anything but okay.
As if ignoring this fuckwad wasn’t a hint enough, he is, somehow, still talking. “Hey man, you had a great game tonight. Two goals! Wait a minute…” He gasps, and I see him covering his mouth out of the corner of my eye. “That was you! Sitting next to me at Walt’s a few weeks ago. I didn’t recognize you with the hat on! Dude, no fucking way I shared a drink with Larsy! Could you sign my jersey?”
Slowly and methodically, my hands still squeezed into tight fists, I turn to face him, hoping he can see the rage filled daggers I am shooting his way. As I try and compose a response to his autograph request, Olivia speaks instead, surging from her seat with newfound confidence and rage.
“Seriously, Cayden?! You just got me fired for asking Zack Reeves to sign pucks for you, and now you’re asking Hayes Larson to sign your jersey ?!”
“Yeah, you got fired, so it’s not against the rules anymore, right?” Cayden barks. I crack my neck from side to side trying to keep my cool, but also preparing myself to knock this motherfucker out.
“This is another perfect example of Cayden Banks only caring about himself,” Olivia snaps, trying desperately not to cry. The asshole just gapes like a fish, his mouth opening and closing without saying anything. “Why can’t you ever just want me?” she whispers, tears streaming down her face.
“Livy, I didn’t want to do this here, especially not in front of Hayes Larson, but we need to breakup,” Cayden snarks, pulling his phone out and swiping through it for a moment.
Olivia stops crying, silence blanketing all of us, and says, “What? You’re breaking up with me ? After you just got me fired? Wow, as always, this is amazing timing on your part.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I just got distracted. I think it’s for the best, given how upset you are,” Cayden says, smirking at something on his phone. “Also, do you think you could take an Uber home since we’re not together? You know I’m hanging out with the guys tonight. Larsy, you’re welcome to join us. We’re going to the casino to have some drinks and gamble.”
Olivia collapses back into her seat, a blank look on her face as tears continue to cascade down her cheeks. Is this fucking guy for real? What is the actual penalty for murder, because I am about to destroy this idiot. I grab a fist full of his shirt, yanking him towards me, my six-foot height towering over his short frame.
“Get the fuck out of my arena before I call security. You are not credentialed to be down here, and if you ever speak to Olivia that way again, or call me Larsy, it will be the last thing you ever say,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
“Okay, okay. Geez man. You’re awfully sensitive for being the new guy on the team.” His eyes bounce back and forth between mine, seeing the absolute certainty I could end him without giving a flying fuck. “Fine! I’ll leave, but seriously, let me know if you ever want to hang out man!” Cayden says as he pulls his shirt from my grip and trips out of the room, his nose once again glued to his phone.
Olivia stares down at the floor, seemingly embarrassed and trying to choke back more sobs. I grab a chair, spinning it to face her, my palms itching to hold hers. She is somehow still the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, even with puffy eyes and smeared makeup. Olivia, my Olivia, is hurting, and it’s killing me to see her suffer.
“Hi; I’m Hayes Larson.” I reach my hand out to shake hers. “My new job in town is being a center for the Milwaukee Steel Riders. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that the other night. And you are welcome to call me Larsy anytime you like. That name is only for people I respect, and no offense, but I don’t respect that guy.”
She smiles and gives a half laugh as she shakes my hand. “Hi Hayes. I’m Olivia Brooks, and one of my many singing gigs is… was being the anthem singer for the Milwaukee Steel Riders. I’m sorry I didn’t bring that up after you almost stranger-danger kidnapped me in a back alley, then I almost kissed you and fled the scene mortified before I knew you were a big deal hockey player.”
“I did not almost kidnap you. We established we were non-strangers after exchanging names,” I playfully respond, my heart racing looking down at her lips at the mention of the almost kiss we shared.
“I guess you’re right,” she smiles, but only for a second, and I can see the gravity of her reality setting in.
“Can I ask what happened tonight? You got fired?”
Olivia takes in a deep breath, then slowly lets it out, her body collapsing on itself, before she begins to tell me what is going on. “When you sing for a team, you’re not allowed to hang out with, or bother, the players. Especially not for autographs. If they say hi, you can say hi back, but we are not allowed to go up to them and ask for stuff. And I get it; you guys are working. If every person who worked here asked you for an autograph, it would take all three periods for you to sign their stuff. And, apparently one of the ice crew on another team got knocked up by one of their married players. It was a huge scandal, and she accused him of pressuring her. So, as you can imagine, they are super strict about it now, which makes sense.”
This girl is just so damn sweet. And practical. And probably a little bit of a rule follower too. But after we almost kissed the other night, I smirk, far too curious to see if she likes to break some rules once and awhile too. Fuck…focus, Hayes.
“Apparently, Cayden saw Zack Reeves in the back of the arena before I went out to sing. I had no idea he brought pucks with him, or that he asked Zack to sign them. I was refilling my water before the anthem when it all happened. I barely saw Zack hand him the pucks and walk away as I got back. I wasn’t even there, but he posted the freaking pucks for sale online, and someone sent it to David. He asked me to come down here after the game and told me I couldn’t sing for the Riders anymore. He said he was really sorry, but he can’t make any exceptions. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she says as the tears well in her eyes again.
“Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want me to go talk to David? I don’t know him well, since I’m so new, but I’m sure he’d listen to me. This was obviously not your fault.”
“Oh my gosh, no! You do not need to do that. It’ll probably make things worse. I should just go home and contemplate what to do with my life.” She pulls out her phone, her hands shaking as she unlocks the screen. “And now I have to get an Uber home…so that’s fun,” she says as she slumps forward looking away from me embarrassed as if she’s about to cry again.
“I can give you a ride home. My car is in the players’ lot, and I don’t mind at all. I won’t even charge you surge pricing.” Olivia looks at me for a minute, stunned, before her face morphs and she starts to laugh.
Then she punches me in the arm.
“Hey!” I gingerly rub my shoulder, a smirk lifting my lips. “I don’t have my pads on anymore! That’s the arm of tonight’s first star of the game; you better be careful,” I say playfully.
“Oh no,” she pouts, fluttering her lashes as she cocks her head to the side. “Is the big, bad hockey player sensitive? Hope you don’t hurt your arm opening the car door for me.”
I didn’t know anything could top her smile, but the smirk and sassy attitude she’s giving me goes straight to my heart…and my dick. I’m going to have so much fun with this girl.
“So, can I drive you home then?” I ask, my voice a little shaky hoping she won’t say no. I do not want to chance her getting away from me ever again. “I’d love to make sure you get back okay after everything that happened.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to hold you up any longer.” She bites her lip, and I need to remind my libido she’s not mine yet , my cock eager to put her mouth to use . “You’ve already stuck around to make sure I was okay after this mess. You are probably tired after the game and need to rest, and I can just get a -”
“Olivia”, I stop her mid-sentence. “It would be my pleasure.”