Chapter 31
The night after our game against the Atlanta Vipers, I am still riding high from our win. The energy from the crowd, the adrenaline from the game—it is all still coursing through me. All I want at this point is to hit the town with the boys and my favorite pain in the ass girl. Especially since we are in the town she lives in and she's been fucking with me all day. I am riled up, hard as steel, and frustrated with no outlet for my tension until I can get her beneath me.
I shoot her a text, expecting her usual quick, witty reply. But instead, I get a curt response.
Ziggy: Busy tonight.
Can’t hang out.
No explanations, nothing. She's practically poured a bucket of ice water over my enthusiasm. I stare at my phone, a mix of confusion and irritation developing within me. We just went over this. We are exclusively only sleeping with each other. I have no reason to get concerned, but her response is off. This isn’t like her, and it leaves me feeling strangely unsettled, wondering what the hell is going on.
The guys notice my funk almost immediately. “What’s up with you, man? You look like someone just told you that they discontinued your favorite protein shake,” Oren teases, clapping me on the back.
“Oh, no! Not his high protein kale and blueberry shakes!” Ford adds with a deadpan stare. “Is it a girl? It’s always a girl,” he adds with a knowing grin.
I roll my eyes, trying to shake off the frustration. “Just a rough night,” I mutter, not about to let them in on the real reason for my mood.
“Come on, let’s hit up the hotel bar for some burgers and a beer. That’ll cheer you up,” Vlad suggests, and the boys start chirping in agreement.
Hanging out with these idiots will be enough to lift my spirits. We head back toward our hotel, the sting of Ziggy’s brush-off dimming my enthusiasm slightly.
We settle into a high top at the hotel bar. While we might still be buzzing with the energy of being on a heater, the rest of the hotel guests are none the wiser. It doesn't seem like a single person in the building cares that we’re professional hockey players. In this case, it’s probably a good thing since we just beat the shit out of the local team. We all sit around devouring our food and nursing our drinks while we shoot the shit. For a few hours, none of us have a care in the world.
I sit back watching our defenseman, Oren Samuels, zero in on a brunette at the bar. Always the charmer, it doesn't matter what type of lady he goes after. They usually fall for his charm and smooth talking. His good looks, dark features, high fade, and the tattoos that start on his neck and keep going to a place I don’t want to find out about only add to his mysterious allure.
Unfortunately, many women are easily taken in by his swagger and are blind to his true intentions. He is a one-and-done man. He, and I quote, “will never be tied down.” So, he lives his life, one bed to the next. Although tonight doesn’t seem to be going in his favor. I watch with secondhand embarrassment as he turns on his full confidence swagger and tells the woman that he is a full-time hockey player and wannabe rapper. But it is clear she isn't buying what he’s selling.
“Hey, you know, I’m not usually one for pickup lines, but I saw you from across the room and had to come over. If my defense on the ice was as good as the way you just stole my attention, I’d be unstoppable,” he says with a megawatt smile.
The woman raises an eyebrow at him, “Is that supposed to impress me?”
Oren’s smile doesn’t falter, “Actually yes. People find me pretty impressive. But hey, I've also got some great stories from the rink if you prefer—"
"That’s cute, but I think you should save that one for someone else. So, thanks, but no thanks," sexy brunette says, cutting him off.
She turns away with a dismissive wave, leaving Oren shaking his head as he stares after her. He turns back to me, trying to shrug it off.
"Guess she's not into athletes, huh?" he says with a chuckle.
At this point, it’s hard not to laugh at him . "Or maybe she's just into a different type of game, buddy."
“Ouch, tough break,” Vlad laughs, nudging me.
Just as we are about to lay into him and give him a real hard time, an even hotter redhead sidles up next to him and buys him a drink.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, shaking my head.
Ford turns to us with a triumphant grin, raising his glass in a silent toast. “Guess luck’s on Oren's side tonight,” he says, and we all burst out laughing. I laugh until my sides hurt, feeling some of the annoyance truly leave my body.
My phone buzzes, and I see Ziggy’s name flash on the screen. And there goes my good mood…
For a split second, I consider ignoring it, but curiosity gets the better of me. I answer, and immediately, I can tell something is off.
“Hey, Elliot,” she slurs slightly, the noise of a bar in the background. “I, um... I need a favor.”
Great. What now?
“What’s going on, Z?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even.
“Please don’t get mad, but I went to dinner with my ex, and he left me downtown. I’ve had a few too many drinks and probably shouldn’t drive home and my phone’s about to die. I’m afraid to Uber without it. Can you come get me?” Her voice sounds small and vulnerable, a far cry from the fiery, competitive woman I am used to.
My blood boils. Her ex? What the hell is she doing with him?
“Where are you?”
She rattles off the name of some bar downtown, but I am not listening. I'm seeing red, so I clench my jaw, a mix of concern and anger flooding me. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
My text alert dings and I look up the bar she is at. Luck is on both our sides tonight since I’m only a few blocks away. Hanging up, I throw some cash on the table and grab my jacket while the guys shoot me curious looks.
“Everything okay?” Ford asks.
“Yeah, just need to take care of something,” I reply, already heading for the door.
Walking feels like it takes forever, allowing my mind to race with anger. We didn't have those deep, meaningful conversations about ex-lovers or anything, but what little I did learn about hers was that he wasn’t worth the time. What was she doing out to dinner with him, of all people? Why would that asshat just leave a woman stranded? How could she be so reckless? It doesn’t take long before I am seething and I begin to run.
I spot Ziggy sitting on the curb alone, hugging her knees. What the fuck! My heart lurches, only making me feel more unstable. It's dangerous for her to be out here like this. I slow down, only slightly, and jog over to her, a little out of breath.
“Ziggy, what the hell are you doing out here?” I snap harshly.
She looks up with red rimmed eyes. “I didn’t want to deal with the people inside,” she says defensively.
“It’s not safe out here,” I tell her, running a hand through my hair, trying to come across as the least unhinged version of my current self. “Anything could have happened to you.”
“I’m fine, Elliot. I just needed some air,” she retorts, standing up and crossing her arms.
I clench my fists, trying to rein in my frustration. “Fine? Sitting on a curb in the middle of downtown at night, phone about to die? That’s not fucking fine, Ziggy.”
She sighs, exasperated. “I didn’t have many options, okay? I thought it was better than being inside being hit on by gross drunk guys.”
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. “Let’s just get you out of here,” I say, taking her keys from her and guiding her back to her car. I open the door for her and look at her expectantly. “We can talk about this later.”
She hesitates, then gets in the car, avoiding my gaze. I slam the door shut and walk around to the driver’s side as my mind races with a mixture of anger and worry. This is not how I imagined the night going. Even after she bailed on me, I still didn’t expect to be picking her up from a shitty “date” with her ex.
As soon as I start driving, the tension in the car doubles exponentially. I can’t hold back any longer.
“Why were you out with your ex, Ziggy? Of all people?” I demand, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
She gives me a glare. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is when you end up stranded downtown because of him!” I snap back. “What were you thinking, going out with that shithead again, anyway?”
She crosses her arms, her jaw set. “I thought maybe he had changed. People can change, you know.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Right. From what little you’ve said about him, even I know he didn’t suddenly become decent overnight. Be realistic, Ziggy.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “You don’t get to judge me, Elliot. You don’t know everything.”
“I know enough,” I clap back. “Enough to see that he hasn’t changed at all. He left you, didn’t he? Just like before.”
She turns to stare out the window, her voice low and strained. “I didn’t think he’d actually leave.”
“Exactly,” I say, my voice rising again. “Clearly, that didn’t work out how you'd hoped.”
She whirls around to face me. “Screw you! I didn’t seek him out. I ran into him, and it was awkward, but he conned me into saying yes to him somehow. And I hate myself for doing it in the first place, so just save it. Save your shit, Elliot. I don’t need your judgment. You’re just as flawed as the rest of us!”
I grind my jaw, trying to keep my temper in check. “This isn’t about me, Ziggy. This is about you making dumb choices that put you in danger.”
She looks away again, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t need you to save me. I can take care of myself.”
“Really?” I challenge. “Because tonight sure didn’t look like it.”
We drive in silence for a few moments, the hum of the engine the only sound. I finally break the silence, my voice softer but no less intense. “Just... Please promise me you won’t see him again.”
She doesn’t respond, and I don’t push her further. But the weight of the argument hangs between us, unresolved and heavy, as we pull up to her apartment.
We reach her door and I help her inside, making sure she is perfectly safe. She immediately turns to me, her expression defiant. “You can leave, Elliot. I’m not putting out tonight.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Anatife.”
Ignoring her protest, I make my way to the kitchen, rummaging through her cabinets until I find popcorn. I toss a bag into the microwave and grab a couple of waters from the fridge.
When I return to the living room, I find a movie to stream and settle onto the couch. Ziggy glares at me for a moment but eventually sighs, sitting down beside me. As the movie plays, her eyes grow heavy, and before long, she is fast asleep with her head resting on my shoulder. I glance down at her peaceful face, a mix of frustration and fondness washing over me.
I grab a blanket and settle back in next to her, pulling her closer. I tuck her into my side, cover us both with the blankets, lean my head back , and close my eyes. This arrangement of ours is getting more complicated by the day, but for now, I am content to be here, making sure she is safe. Tomorrow, we can deal with everything else.