Hunter
seventeen
I TELL JAMIE to put another five pounds on the bar.
“You’re really pushing it today, huh?” he asks.
“Yep.” I grit my teeth, take a deep breath, and lift. I’ve been pushing myself all morning. There’s this anxious energy inside me today and I don’t know how else to get rid of it. I’m hoping working my body to exhaustion in the next hour will do it.
“Alright, but don’t overdo it. You don’t want to get an injury because you’re trying to prove something to yourself.”
“Not trying to prove anything,” I bite out. “Just…need…to…burn…some…energy.”
“You’re definitely doing that,” Jamie says.
I do two more reps and feel my muscles turning to jelly.
Jamie helps me put the bar back. I sit up and wipe my face and chest. Fuck, that felt good.
The endorphins I get from a satisfying workout are almost as good as scoring a goal or fucking a hot girl.
Fucking Stevie to be more accurate. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since I saw her last, but I’ve resisted texting her to meet up again.
Do I want to see her? More than I want my next fucking breath. Is it a good idea? I don’t think so.
I never let myself get too close to women.
I don’t like distractions, and women can be very distracting.
Things can get complicated fast, especially if you’re not aligned on the nature of the relationship.
That’s why paying Stevie to be with me seemed like the perfect solution.
When a relationship is undeniably transactional, it’s easier to end it.
And I’d wanted Stevie from the moment I’d seen her at the diner.
She’s my dream girl. I told her I’d just happened to drive by the diner that night, but that wasn’t true at all – I’d gone back to catch her after her shift and talk to her.
It just so happened I’d ended up saving her from that fucking asshole and set this whole thing into motion.
Jamie slaps me on the shoulder. “Get up. It’s my turn.”
I get up to spot him. We have an away game tonight and have to be on the bus in two hours.
I already got my morning run in today before the sun rose, and now I’m in the gym with Jamie, Ryder, and my other teammates.
I’m grateful it’s been a busy morning. I have to clear my head of thoughts of Stevie.
I’m determined to stay undefeated this season and I can’t afford to lose focus. Not even for one second.
And since I never fuck close to game days (superstition and trying to preserve my energy), I shouldn’t care that Stevie hasn’t been texting me.
But it’s thrown me for a loop. I’m used to women blowing up my phone, asking to see me all the time, wanting more than I can give.
I’m used to it, and, though I hadn’t realized it, I expect it now.
It’s always given me an ego boost, so now my ego’s taking a hit the longer Stevie keeps from contacting me.
Fuck. I hate feelings.
Later, when we get on the bus, I can’t resist the urge to check my phone.
I have text messages, but none are from Stevie, and that bothers me more than I’d like it to.
I shouldn’t fucking care, and I should be going over plays in my head instead of wondering what she’s doing.
As if conspiring against me, my brain decides that Stevie is with another man at the moment, and the thought is like a burr I can’t dislodge.
The feeling of jealousy is hot in my chest, and I don’t even have any proof whatsoever that there’s something to be jealous about.
I’m fucking losing it. I put in my earbuds and will myself to get lost in the music.
This is going to be a long ass bus ride.
“Let’s go, champ,” Jamie bumps my shoulder with his fist. “We’re here.”
I blink a few times, trying to get my bearings. Did I fall asleep? That seriously never fucking happens. Slipping my cell phone into my pocket, I resist checking it again. I’m putting Stevie out of my mind right this fucking second, because we have a game to win.
It ends up being one of the easiest wins this season, even though it’s an away game.
I’m buzzing with energy and adrenaline afterwards.
It’s all high spirits in the locker room too; guys bumping fists, congratulating each other, laughing and talking and going over the plays.
Our goalie, Martinez, stopped 26 shots, only letting one in, and I got one goal and one assist. The final score was 4-1. We were on fucking fire.
It doesn’t really surprise me. Sometimes the more you win, the more you win.
Just like sometimes the more you lose, the more you lose.
Being undefeated so far this season has been great for morale and everybody’s confidence.
It’s also lit a fire under everyone’s ass to play their best every time.
But, of course, Coach gives us another lecture about being complacent before he lets us hit the showers.
At this point, I’ll be worried if he ever starts praising us.
We’re back on the bus less than an hour later, heading home in the dark of night.
I still haven’t checked my phone, even though a part of me wants to text Stevie and tell her about the win, then tell her she better be at my place with only my jersey on.
I wanna fuck her so hard that she can’t walk for a few days, but if neither one of us wants to be the first to message the other this week, I sure as hell am not caving.
She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen when she’s tied to my bed and letting me do whatever the fuck I want to her, but I guess I’m going to sleep with blue balls tonight.
“I need to get laid tonight,” Jamie says from beside me.
I swallow down my frustration. “Yeah?” I ask nonchalantly. “You got someone in mind?”
“Yup.”
“Who?”
“Nah, I don’t kiss and tell.”
I give him a look. “Since fucking when?”
He grins. “Since now.”
“New girl?” I ask, grinning back.
“Yup, and she’s hot as fuck.”
“Lucky you,” I say, turning my head away to look out the window.
He punches me lightly on the arm. “What about you? That cute blonde waiting for you at your place already?”
I bite back a sigh. “Not tonight.”
I can feel his shock even though I’m not looking at him. “For real, man? Why not?”
“She’s not texting me and I’m not texting her, that’s why not.”
He laughs. “So, you’re gonna have blue balls all night ‘cause you don’t wanna be the first to text? That’s fucking high school, bro.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He laughs even harder. “I’m sure there’s a puck bunny or two you can hit up instead, then.”
Yeah, I sure could, but I don’t want to. I want Stevie. I want her mouth, her pussy, her tits, her long, sexy legs. I want her. And I’m starting to realize nobody else will do. And that fucking scares the shit out of me.
I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. “I’m taking a fucking nap,” I tell Jamie. He snickers but leaves me alone. Unlike Ryder, he knows when to stop pushing my buttons.
When I get home, I take my phone out and glance at the notifications.
Nope, still nothing from Stevie. Motherfucker.
I almost want to throw my cell against the fucking wall.
I ignore all the notifications congratulating me, including one from my own damn family in the group chat, and head towards the fridge.
If I were a drinker, I would drown myself in alcohol right now.
It’s one of the few times I’ve regretted never touching the stuff.
Even if I wanted to, I don’t have a single bottle of alcohol at my place.
I sigh and grab a water. Feeling pathetic, I sit on the couch and cue up last week’s game against Quinnipiac and force myself to watch it.
Some of the guys went out once we got into town – they wanted to celebrate.
I wanted to come home and lick my wounds.
But now I’m regretting it. It’s only 11:30pm.
I could have hit up Finnegan’s at the very least. Or some other bar.
Fuck it, I decide. I’m going out.
Ten minutes later, I’m driving back toward campus.
I texted Ryder before I left and he told me he’s at our usual hang.
That’s good enough for me. I pull into the parking lot and hop out of my car, feeling a weird mix of emotions.
Adrenaline is still shooting through me after our win, but I’m also agitated and on edge.
I should be having mind-blowing sex with Stevie right now; instead I’m at a bar I’ve been to a million times, not at all interested with having some meaningless hookup. I shouldn’t have left the house.
Jesus, I’ve never been so indecisive in my life.
I spot Ryder and some other teammates at our usual booth.
They’re surrounded by people. Ryder pushes some girl who’s sidled up next to him out and makes room for me.
She gives me a disgruntled look then her eyes light up when she realizes who I am.
I give her a little mock salute. That seems to mollify her and she giggles, leaning against the booth.
“Great game tonight, guys,” some guy I don’t recognize says. “You wiped the ice with them.”
“Thanks, bro.” That comes from Martinez, who’s got two girls draped over him, a beer bottle in his hand. His eyes are already glazed over, a satisfied smile on his lips. At least somebody’s happy. ‘Cause it ain’t me.
“You’re gonna go straight to the Frozen Four this season,” the fan says. “I can feel it.”
“Hey, don’t jinx it,” Sean Dickinson, one of our D-men, says.
He’s one of the most superstitious players on the team.
Maybe the most superstitious. He has a gold Cuban chain necklace he literally never takes off.
Told me an ex-girlfriend gave it to him in high school and it’s given him good luck ever since.
I have my own superstitions and rituals (we all do), but it’s nothing like some of the crazy shit he does.
He wears the same pair of socks every game.
I’m not sure they even qualify as socks at this point.
Did I mention he never washes them? Yeah.
“I’m not jinxing it,” the guy replies, looking mildly terrified. “You guys are fucking killers.”
Sean grunts, and eventually the fan walks away after another “good game” comment.
The waitress comes over and hands me a Coke without my having to ask, giving me a cheeky smile as she does so.
Ryder clinks his beer against my glass. “To staying undefeated,” he whispers so Sean won’t hear. I grin and take a sip of my drink.
I don’t know how I spot her in the crowd.
But it only takes a glimpse of her blonde hair for my senses to tingle.
Yup, that’s Stevie all right. She’s not with her roommate Becca this time.
It’s some other girl. They’re sharing a basket of fries and chatting, and Stevie won’t even look in my direction.
A surge of anger slices through me. I’m pissed that she’s ignoring me, even though I’m ignoring her too.
I don’t even understand how it came to this point.
Maybe we both simultaneously realized this thing we got going on was getting too intense.
Or we’re both being stubborn idiots. I know I’m a stubborn idiot, but I really thought Stevie would’ve caved by now.
It’s been four days since we’ve spoken, and she hasn’t reached out in any way.
I’m not used to that. And when it comes to her, I don’t like it. At all.
I grab my phone, about to shoot her a message. Then put it back in my pocket again. I’m just glad Jamie’s not here. He would know exactly what I’m thinking. Ryder, though? He doesn’t give a shit about anybody’s personal problems. That suits me just fine tonight.
“Which chick you gonna take home tonight?” Ryder asks.
“Haven’t decided yet,” I say, pretending I’m even considering it. There’s only one person I want in my bed. “You?”
He shrugs. “Maybe that brunette in the shorts over there.” He nods toward a girl standing by the jukebox to our left, wearing the shortest denim shorts I’ve ever seen.
“Nice choice,” I say, willing myself not to look towards Stevie.
“She’s my sister’s friend.”
I look at him in surprise. “Jewel won’t like you messing with a friend of hers.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he says, scowling. “I’m not letting my younger sister boss me around.”
“You know how she feels about you hooking up with her friends.”
Ryder rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m just saying, man.”
“Then she needs to stop having so many hot friends.”
I snicker. “You’re fucking crazy.”
He leans forward in his seat, resting his forearms on the table. “Her name’s Kaia,” he says. “She’s a dancer and a DJ.”
I raise my eyebrows. “A DJ?”
Ryder nods, throwing a quick glance in Kaia’s direction. “I think I’m obsessed with her.”
I look at Kaia again. She has long black hair that reaches her waist, nice long legs, and a golden-brown complexion. She’s pressing buttons on the digital jukebox, oblivious to us talking about her.
“I see your dilemma,” I tell Ryder. “Why not just be upfront with Jewel that you’re interested in her friend?”
“I’m sure Jewel will be okay with that. Right after she bites my head off and uses it as a soccer ball.”
I can’t help but laugh. Being an only child, I don’t really understand sibling dynamics. They always seem to be fighting.
“Think of it from Jewel’s perspective, though,” I offer. “You wouldn’t want her dating one of us.”
Ryder looks horrified. “Of course, I fucking wouldn’t.” He sighs, then abruptly gets up. “Need another beer.”
I watch as he walks by Kaia without acknowledging her. At least I’m not the only one ignoring the woman I want tonight.
Close to 1am I’m still sitting in the booth with Martinez and Sean. Ryder left with someone that wasn’t Kaia half an hour ago. I don’t know why I’m even still here. Instead of rewarding myself with a victory fuck, I’m nursing my Coke and brooding like a fucking moron.
From the corner of my eye, I see Stevie and her friend get up and put on their jackets. They’re about to leave. I have one last chance to approach her.
But I don’t take it.