28. Stefan
28
STEFAN
It’s been over a week since my showdown with Wren and for seven days straight I’ve drunk and fucked away the pain, but the joke’s on me because the pain is still there.
We have a game in a few hours, and I’m in the mood to cause some shit on the ice. Hockey is a great way to release that aggression, and I cannot wait to take on Vancouver. The Vikings are a strong team this season but we’re stronger.
Kicking the redhead out, I climb into the shower and freshen up. There’s a strong chance I’m still drunk, but I can skate even when I’m fifty sheets to the wind so tonight’s game will be a piece of cake.
Walking downstairs, Wren is nowhere to be seen and I’m okay with that. After my breakdown and subsequent showdown with her the other week, I’ve been steering clear of her. I cannot remember everything that was said, but I do remember asking her to stay with me and she did. She snuggled with me all night long and when I woke the next morning, I was shocked to see her in my bed. Don’t get me wrong, Wren’s hot, but you don’t shit where you eat. Besides, I think she’d rip my dick off if I ever tried that. I remember what happened after I kissed her when she first got here. That kiss was fucking hot, I can only imagine what she’d be like in bed, but I like my dick attached so that will never happen.
Ordering an Uber, I head outside to wait. I may be reckless at times but I will never drink and drive.
Climbing out of the car, I flash security my ID and make my way down the corridor. I can hear chatter from the boys and that feeling in my chest starts to ramp up the closer I get to the dressing room. Nothing is more exhilarating than taking the ice, and I realize I’ve missed this. I’ve missed hockey and the outlet it gives me.
When I step into the room, everyone stops and stares at me. “I’m heeeerrre,” I sing, spreading my arms out. My smile is wide but when Coach Barber bellows, “My office, now,” the grin is wiped off my face.
Dropping my bag off at my cubby, I walk into Coach’s office and I find Tania and Wren in here too. Before the door even clicks closed, he’s on me. “Where the fuck have you been? You’ve missed the last two games and every training session this week.”
“I’ve been dealing with some personal stuff.”
“Since when is fucking bunnies and passing out in an alley personal stuff?” Coach hisses at me. I have never seen him pissed like this before, but fuck him.
“The personal stuff lead to that and I can’t help it if that bitch splatters my face everywhere, but who doesn’t want to see this?” I circle my finger around my head.
“No one wants to see a zombie in the flesh,” Tania says. “You look like shit.”
“It’s been a tough week,” I nonchalantly tell her with a shrug. Dropping down onto the sofa, I spread my arm along the back and stare up at the big boss lady.
“So I’ve heard.” Her tone wavers and I offer her a sad smile, trying to buy some sympathy. “But it would have been nice to have been informed by you.” I blankly stare at her. “You could have replied to any of my or Leif’s messages.”
“Wren knew,” I throw back at her.
“It isn’t Wren’s job to inform us of something like this.”
“Her job is to watch me?—”
“No,” Coach snaps, using a tone I have never heard him use before. “It’s her job to overhaul your image and she was doing a great job of that, but just like that”—he snaps his fingers—“you’ve undone all her hard work because rather than come to us for help and support, you went on a bender and fucked up bigtime.” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised though, this is typical Stefan behavior.”
“She fucking lied,” I hiss at him. “She fucking lied.”
“And I’m not defending her but you have acted like a baby.” My eyes widen at his choice of words, and I think he realizes it too from the look on his face right now. “Shit, sorry, poor choice of words there.”
“Ya think?”
“Regardless of word choice, YOU fucked up here, Stefan. You should have come to myself or Tania, or even Wren. Instead, you’ve drunk yourself silly and right now, you should probably go and get tested for every disease under the sun. You’ve really gone wild this week.”
“Yeah, I have.” I raise my hand for a high five but he just stares at me with raised eyebrows. “Come on, Coach, don’t leave me hanging.” He eyes me again, and I lower my hand.
“Spoilsport,” I mumble under my breath. No one speaks so I nod and stand up. “If that’s all, I need to get changed. We have a game.” I go to exit Coach’s office but his words stop me in my tracks.
“You aren’t going anywhere near the ice tonight.”
“The fuck did you just say?”
“You’re not playing tonight. You’ve missed every practice this week. You reek of alcohol, and I doubt your head is in the game.”
“But—”
"Nope, not buts. You’re lucky I’m not firing your ass.”
“You can’t fire me!” I hiss.
“He can … as long as he has my blessing,” Tania answers for Leif. She walks over to me and ushers me back to the sofa. Dropping back to the seat I just vacated, she takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me. “Stefan, you’ve had more chances than anyone deserves, and whenever it seems like you’re finally on track, you slide right back to your douchey ways. I’m warning you, pull your head out of your ass or I will cut you from the team. No ifs, ands, buts, or what-ifs.”
“Fuck this,” I snort, and before anyone can say anything to me, I jump up and storm out.
All of my teammates’ eyes are on me but not one of the assholes utters a word. They all remain tight-lipped and watch me exit the dressing room.
Heading back down the corridor, I walk out of the stadium and just keep walking. I don’t have a destination in mind. I simply put one foot in front of the other and I walk until I come to a bar. Stepping into the establishment, I make my way to the bar and order a shot.
The barman fills my glass up and I chug it back. Tapping the sticky wooden top, he refills my glass and again, I chug it back. I tap again but the bartender looks at me. “You sure?”
Lifting my gaze to his, I see concern reflecting at me. “Liquor isn’t the answer, son. Take it from someone who nearly lost everything.” His gaze travels down the bar to an elderly woman pouring a beer. “Alcohol is not the answer. Twenty times out of ten, it’s the cause.”
“Shouldn’t you be willing to serve me?”
“There’s other things to drink in a bar besides alcohol.”
Nodding at him, I process his words, and me being me, I tap the bar and utter, “Another” because fuck the world.
Fuck him.
Fuck her.
Fuck them, especially them.
Fuck everyone.
I try and do the right thing and it bites me in the ass. I do the wrong thing, it bites me in the ass. No matter what I do, it bites me in the ass. I may as well have fun while my ass is being chewed out.
With a disappointed shake of his head, he pours me another drink but shocking myself, I don’t drink it. I stare into the golden liquid as I twist the glass back and forth in my fingers. Resting my elbows on the edge of the sticky bar, I drop my head, run my fingers through my hair, and sigh.
“From the darkness, light will prevail,” the barman says.
Lifting my head, I stare at him and mumble, “Can’t rain all the time.”
“Classic movie that one, but he’s right. The decisions you make today will affect what happens tomorrow, and from the looks of you, that drink is not the decision you want to be making today.”
Nodding at him, I throw a couple of bills on the bar and stand up … but before I leave, I throw back the drink. “Can’t let it go to waste.”
The bartender chuckles and nods back at the seat I just vacated. “I’ll get you a burger to soak up some of that alcohol and a Diet Coke, and then you can be on your way. I get the feeling you’ll need to be soberish to deal with whatever's got you down.”
Nodding at him, I offer a small smile as I sit back down. I watch him walk toward the kitchen. Along the way, as he passes the lady he swats her ass playfully, causing her to yelp, but the look she gives him is all-encompassing and full of love and adoration.
An hour or so later, I have a full stomach and I’m soberer than when I first walked in. Mentally, I don’t feel any better, but he’s right, getting drunk again won’t fix this aching hole in my heart. Fucking another bunny won’t heal it either. I need to focus on me and the game. With that thought in mind, I head home but when I climb out of the Uber, the last person I expect to see is sitting at my front door.