Chapter 17Nick
Chapter 17
Nick
OCTOBER | Five of Pentacles
“Geez, what crawled up your butt?”
Poorly timed joke . If they only knew. The problem was that my fingers crawled up somebody else’s butt. On accident. Dammit.
The whole incident showed me that 1) Annie was right and I was bad at being with girls, 2) I hated her for being right, and 3) I still couldn’t stop thinking about her.
And now she was my agent.
I’d have my work cut out for me trying to convince her to give me another chance. But that was the only way I could get this out of my system. When I have a goal, I meet it. I don’t back down.
Okay, that sounds creepy. I just wanted her to consensually want to bone me. Then maybe I wouldn’t think about her anymore and I could be good at sex with someone else.
“I’m just locking in,” I grumbled.
“Oh, you had a date, didn’t you?” Sorrento asked. “How’d it go?”
“She’s not my type.” That was a gross exaggeration. But if I really thought about it, she wasn’t. She had no . . . whimsy. And anyway, I’d irreparably pissed her off and would never see her again. Thank God L.A. was big. As long as I stayed away from her college campus and sorority house, I’d have no shot of seeing her again.
Annie had whimsy. Annie had played make-believe with me.
Annie was also mean and had talked shit about me behind my back.
But the shit was true, so was it talking shit?
“That bad, huh?” Mikey asked.
Guy was talking to Leroy. “Yeah, I’m not sure how long she’s staying with us.”
Leroy scoffed. “If it were my house, I’d have told Sydney she had to put out or get out.”
Guy recoiled. “Ew, man. This is my wife’s best friend.”
“Your wife’s hot best friend, no?”
My face flamed thinking about Guy having a three-way with Annie. And at Leroy saying she was hot. God, I was in a piss-poor mood.
“What’s wrong, Rook?” Beatty asked, drawing Guy’s attention to me.
“Nothing has ever or will ever happen with me and Annie,” Guy said, eyeing me cautiously. “I’m all for Kitty.”
“Famous last words,” Leroy mumbled.
“Leroy!” Sorrento barked. “You’re making Rook sweaty talking about his woman like that.”
My brow furrowed deeper. “I’m not a rookie anymore.”
“Sorry, Rook, we forget,” Beatty said with a chuckle.
“But she is your woman?” Leroy asked.
“No, she’s not my woman.” I pulled out my earbuds, jamming them in my ears as fast as I could. “You guys can fuck off if you want me to win this game for you.”
“Leave him alone,” Mikey said. “Leave fucking with the goalie to the other team.”
I turned up my music so I could focus. I was amped before any game I started, but I vibrated with jitters. Annie was there, probably already in the building. She’d be watching me. Should I use asking her out as fuel, or try and push it out of my mind?
I started my ritual. It was a timed operation. I brought coffee to the game, then added the juice from gas station hot pickles to it when I got there. I had a whole box of the pickle packs that traveled with me. My playlist was five songs long, led by Despacito. No, I don’t speak Spanish, but the beat is perfect for my juggling warmup. Also, I think if I were challenged to recite the words in Spanish, I’d get pretty close. I wouldn’t embarrass myself by trying, but like, I know that in my heart.
I started with three balls, then worked up to five. Then it was twenty-nine upside-down push-ups against a wall, drawing three tarot cards to get a read on the game, and tucking the one that seemed most relevant into my leg pad. People might say tarot’s a load of crap, but it helped me connect with how I’m feeling. And who knows? Maybe there’s some spiritual body guiding me through the cards.
I shoot whatever’s left of the coffee and pickle juice combo, and then I’m good to go.
Except on this day, I kept dropping my juggling balls. My arms shook when I did my push-ups. I got gagged on my coffee mixture, which never happens. And the tarot cards? I got The Tower. The fucking Tower. And The Lovers. And then Three of Cups? So what, Annie and I were going to get naked and dance around a maypole that would then be struck by lightning? Annie and I would have a blissful day in the Garden of Eden, only for the earth to open up and swallow us whole?
It didn’t bode well. I tucked The Lovers into my leg pad and moved on. This game was happening whether I liked it or not, and I couldn’t back down from asking her to help me out.
In the tunnel before warmups, I was antsier than ever, but this time it was grumpy antsy, not “silly Obi is ready to goof off on the ice and also stop an inordinate number of pucks” antsy. I was “help, a girl I like is here and is waiting for me to ask her an absolutely absurd question because I’m bad at sex” nervous.
I skated out and took a lap, then settled to the side to stretch. The rest of the team lined up for practice shots. Stelle and Mikey waved into the upper part of the lower bowl. I followed their gaze to find exactly what I wanted. Kitty and Jessie, and Annie looking ridiculously beautiful in a Princes jersey. What number was on it? Was it mine? Her Disney princess hair covered the number.
Sorrento stopped in front of me. “You gonna get in the net?”
I had my answer. Annie was in my head. May as well use her as fuel.
* * *
Waiting. Watching. Guessing and trying to get in the right spot. Some balance between laser-focus and completely zoning out and being in my own world for twenty-minute stretches at a time. Jumping into action. That’s my job.
And then a lot of skating around my domain, goofing off, wondering if anyone else saw that moth in the lights, wondering if luna moths were rare, and oops, here comes the team.
Vancouver loved playing with screens and it was annoying. Everyone uses them, but when every play setup involves creating chaos in front of my net, I get irritated. Get creative. Try a new trick, dickheads. Get out of my crease.
I’m usually pretty neutral when it comes to other teams. Doesn’t matter what color the sweaters are. My job remains the same. Create as few gaps as possible. But that day, I found myself mentally making up beefs with the players. It was actually a fun addition to the game. I had a pretty good glove save, and kept my eyes trained on the winger who shot it as I handed it to the ref.
I wanted to look hard in front of Annie. To make her regret brushing me off after the wedding. To seem a little hard to get so she’d be in for what I was going to propose that night.
I took off my helmet at the next break, squirting water over my face and down my back. I flipped my hair back, glancing up to find Annie. I kept my eyes cold even as her soft eyes met mine. I zoned out a hair too long, jumping back into action before the next faceoff to the right of my net. My heart pounded at how much I almost screwed it all up.
Something had to be done about Annie Markham, or it was going to be the end of me.
Get her out of my system. Get her out of my head. Something like that.
* * *
Annie Markham
You coming out? Everybody’s going to the bar. Need a good excuse to hang back
Go with them. I’ll meet you there soon.
When I arrived, Annie was leaning against the bar and smiling while Guy told some kind of funny story. She laughed and swept her hair over one shoulder, jumping into the conversation with her eyes lit up. Her hands flew out while she talked. My face grew hot seeing the edge of a 3 on her jersey sleeve. Was she wearing mine? Why did this matter?
It didn’t. I hated her. I was mad at her. I wanted her.
But most of all, I needed her help.
Meet me out back. Go quiet.
“Obi, good game, man,” Leroy said. “What are you drinking?”
“I’m not staying,” I said. “I just came to grab something.”
“Damn, still on the grumbly Batman routine, huh?”
I pushed past him and strode to the bar’s back door where the employees smoked. In that moment, I wished I smoked. I could use something to settle my nerves, and my vape pen was at home. And anyway, I needed to be fully with it while I talked to Annie about this.
She appeared, looking completely bewildered as she swung the bar’s door shut behind her. “What’s this cloak and dagger routine, Ober?”
“We have to keep a low profile.”
“To do what? What are you getting me tangled up in?” Confusion screwed up her face.
I sighed, looking around the alley to make sure no one was around. “I need your help.”
“Are you . . . in danger? What’s wrong?”
“No, not really. I just—” I pulled at my temple with my fingertips.
“Oh, spit it out, Nick!”
“Okay! I know we’re not supposed to see each other or anything, but I—”
Shit, what was I going to say? I couldn’t tell her that I liked her. I couldn’t give her that satisfaction after she talked shit about me behind my back. I hated myself for still liking her. I was a rich athlete. I should have a little more self-respect than that.
“I need you to . . . let me practice on you.”
Her eyes widened, jaw dropped. Her mouth formed a handful of shapes before she spoke. “Practice what, exactly?”
“Um,” I coughed and looked away. “Sex stuff?”
Her chest heaved as she breathed. “Are you a virgin or something?”
“No. I’m not. I’m just, ah, not as skilled as I’d like to be. And you already know that, so it’s less embarrassing.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “Meet a nice girl, Nick. Take her on some dates. Get to know her. Go into it easy. You’re a nice guy. I’m sure some girl would love to be that for you.”
“I already tried that. It has to be you.”
“Oh, no. No no no. I, you, we, you’ve got the wrong gal,” she said, making an X with her arms. “There are professionals for that sort of thing.”
“You think I didn’t think of that? You think it wouldn’t get out that Nick Oberbeck uses sex workers? You’re my agent, Annie.”
“Yeah, exactly. I’m your agent!” she huffed. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No! I mean, it’ll also give me a chance to make up for last time without compromising my reputation.”
“Yeah, and what about mine? You know how my last job ended!” She slipped the tip of her manicured pinky nail between her lips and nibbled. She always had cute, done-up nails, sometimes with little pictures, sometimes just pretty colors.
I was stunned to silence for a second. “I didn’t know that’s why you left.”
She tossed her head from side to side. “This was a good opportunity, too. One of those signs, you know.”
“Don’t you think it’s a sign that we’re in the same place again?”
Her eyes softened. “Nick, you know we can’t.”
“We wouldn’t have to let anyone know!”
“I live with your teammate. People would know.”
I scowled. “And you wear his number.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Is that a problem for you somehow? I borrowed a jersey from Kitty.”
“If you’re going to wear somebody’s name, it’d damn well better be mine.”
“Really?” she bit. “And why is that?”
“Because maybe I’m haunted by the feel of your thighs on my ears and the fact that I didn’t even get you off.”
She stammered, taken aback. “What would I be getting out of this arrangement? To me, it just seems like a big risk with no reward.”
Her words stung. “I’m not that bad, Annie. I’d make sure you were taken care of. I didn’t even really get a chance that first night.”
Her eyes finally met mine, concern passing over them. “I know. You’re a sweet guy, Nick. If things were different . . . you know. I just got here, though. I can’t lose this job. We can’t be involved.”
“We can, Annie. It doesn’t have to be about feelings. Lord knows I’m not thrilled with you at the moment.”
Disgust ruled her face. “Which is it, Nick? You like me, or you just want to use me for my body? You really need to work on your delivery. I’m going back in there to talk to people who aren’t propositioning me for my body. Have a good night.”
I caught her by the elbow as she turned to go back inside. “It’s friends with benefits. I still care about you, angel. Not just your body. I’m upset you talked about me and didn’t talk to me or tell me you were moving here.” Her eyes rounded and her brow furrowed. I could have chosen to play games, but what was the point? May as well just tell her how I felt. “Just think about it. Please.”
Her brow furrowed again, looking down at where I held her elbow. “I’ll see you next week.”
* * *
“Show her who’s boss,” Leroy said. “Chicks eat that shit up.”
I groaned. “The last time I took your advice, I ended up covered in alcoholic beverages.”
We were in the locker room after morning skate. I was trying to subtly get advice on my Annie situation without mentioning Annie. I lied and said I had a date and it went well, but she was standoffish.
“You can’t force yourself on someone, Jack. That’s gross,” Stelle said.
“I’m not saying force yourself. But you know, give her a chance to back out. Put her to the test,” Leroy said. “If you think she’s that hot for you, make her put her money where her mouth is.”
“There is some merit to being crystal clear what you want,” Sorrento agreed. “But don’t be a jackass about it.”
“You gotta sexface her,” Mikey chimed in. “That’s how I hooked Jessie. She was being all bratty and I got her up against my door and told her she didn’t need that little asshole boyfriend of hers.”
Stelle sighed. “Extreme circumstances there. Not a playbook.”
“Up against a door, though,” Sorrento said. “That does have an impact.”