14. Connor
14
CONNOR
N o matter how often I come to Vegas, I’m still starstruck every time. There’s always a new hotel and casino and another new show. I’m convinced they just spring out of the ground when no one’s looking.
It’s a city where time doesn’t exist.
There is Vegas showgirl entertainment going on while we’re out for a pre-practice breakfast. I’m not complaining. The women are gorgeous, but I’ve always associated that type of event with the nightlife. It makes my brain itch to see them performing during the day.
Brain itch or not, these women are seriously talented. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aiden’s next series of paintings feature them.
As I continue to watch the nearly naked showgirls dance across the stage, I can’t help but think how much easier it is to fuck a stranger. When you pick someone up in a club or a casino, it’s easy to keep things from getting personal. Both of you know it’s a casual hookup, you have your fun, then part ways the next morning.
Simple.
Clean.
Uncomplicated.
Someone I bring home for just a night isn’t going to care if I can’t fall sleep until I’ve triple checked the door is locked. They’re not going to notice that I alphabetize my spice cabinet or the twitch that develops in my eye if the fridge magnets aren’t perfectly lined up.
I get my needs met without letting anyone see past the layer of charm I cocoon myself in. It’s something that’s been working for me since college.
Except now it’s starting to feel less satisfying.
The image of Liv splayed out on white sheets with her back arched brings unbidden thoughts into my mind.
I shake my head to try and clear them but she refuses to leave.
That night should have gotten her out of my system. It was supposed to be just a one-night thing like all the other women before her.
Only she’s never been just a one-night thing.
I shouldn’t still be obsessing over how she felt wrapped around my cock or how I can convince her to agree to one more one last time.
What the hell is it about her that makes her so different, so damn addictive?
“Connor? Hello? Did you hear what I said?” Max asks.
“I guess not. Sorry.”
“I asked if you were good.”
If you consider picturing your sister naked while you’re sitting right next to me good then I’m fucking fantastic.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“This isn’t the first time this week that you’ve zoned out. I can’t have you doing that tomorrow at the game. The Black Diamonds are having a massive comeback this season. They’re really gunning for that home ice advantage in the playoffs, and I don't want them to have it. So, if you’ve got anything to get out of your system, I want you to do it before the game tomorrow.”
I really don’t think you do.
“I’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
He starts to say something but his phone cuts him off. “It’s Coach. No way this is good. I’ll be back in a few.”
As soon as Max is out of earshot, Dimitri asks, “It’s Liv that’s got you all twitchy, isn’t it?”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I can see it. Ever since New York, you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of her. It’s fucking obvious.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” I scoff. “Before all the shit hit the fan with the media, you used every excuse to put your hands on her.”
“She’s hot as fuck. We obviously have something special because if I remember correctly that whole night started with me and her.”
“So that automatically means she’s yours? I was there too, and I have just as much of a shot as you do.”
“So you can ditch her when you get bored? Your longest relationship was what, four days? He doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. Am I right, Aiden?”
“No. Neither of you do,” he says quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dimitri demands.
“It means she isn’t a puck bunny you can bat around the ice. Do you honestly think someone calling dibs on her is something she’d allow? She’s the only one who gets to decide what or who she wants, and I’m pretty sure she’s already decided.”
“Why, because she came running to you after that fight with Max?” I roll my eyes. “Big deal. She always comes running to you to fix her boo boos. You’re like the fixer of the group.”
Aiden shrugs. “It might have started out that way but it didn’t end like that.”
“Oh, please. Max said you stayed in separate rooms and barely saw each other.”
“That’s what he was told. The reality of it is she never spent a single night in the guestroom.”
“You fucking jackass. Where do you get off sneaking around behind our backs?”
“Apparently with Liv.”
Dimitri squeezes his fork so tightly it bends out of shape. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“You’re going to have to get in line.”
“You both need to calm the fuck down. Right now.”
“Give me one good reason I should do that instead of stabbing this fork through your hand.”
Aiden sighs. “Because you’ll have to explain to Max why you did it. He just walked back in.”
“This isn’t over,” I threaten.
“Fine. Whatever. Just shut up before he gets in earshot.”
It looks like Max had about as much fun as we did while he was gone.
“I assume you guys got Coach’s text? That was fast, even for him,” he says, dropping back down into his chair.
“What text?”
“The one that says practice has been moved up to a half an hour from now. You didn’t get it?”
We shake our heads.
“Okay, but why do you guys look like you want to murder someone?”
I force a wry smile onto my face. “We started arguing about the best strategies for the game. You know how it is.”
“Dimitri wants to jump in and be aggressive as usual and?—”
“And you want to keep swapping to new plays when it gets too hard,” Dimitri snaps back.
Max laughs. “Okay, so where do you sit, Aiden?”
“Aiden’s all for misdirection so he can sneak in and score,” I say metaphorically, glaring at him.
“And… this is why I’m Captain. You three can never manage to see the bigger picture.”
“So why the practice time change?” I ask.
“Because somebody high enough up said so.” He scowls. “I fucking hate politicians.”
“So do I, but that doesn’t tell us much, Mr. Big Picture.”
He shoves my shoulder playfully. “I was getting to it, jackass. The governor’s wife and daughter are apparently huge fans of ours. They’re flying in for the game, and we’re going to be having dinner with them at the Eiffel Tower restaurant right after.”
“What do you mean by we?”
“The four of us, plus Timmins and Coach.”
“Timmins? Really? Karev is a much better goalie and he’s less annoying,” Dimitri grouses.
“Who cares about Timmins? What I want to know is why the hell the governor didn’t tell us ahead of time. He does realize the schedule is available to the public, right?”
“According to Coach it was all last minute. He called me as soon as management called him.”
“I’m assuming it’s mandatory?” Aiden asks.
“That would be an understatement.”
A fight, practice, and now a fucking dinner. Can the day get any worse?
Apparently it can because practice is a scrimmage, and Dimitri and I are on opposite teams.
The way he’s baring his teeth at me across the ice makes me fairly certain he’s going to draw blood before practice is over. I’m starting to regret my decision to play offense.
The puck drops.
It’s mine.
I fly across the ice toward the goal.
Shit, here he comes.
Aiden’s clear.
I should pass it to him but I hesitate. Why does he get to take anything else from me?
Instead, I wing it over to Max who immediately…
Suddenly, my ass is on the ice and I’m three feet back from where I was.
Coach blasts his whistle. “What are you doing, Volkov?”
“Sorry, Coach.” Dimitri shrugs. “Guess I lost control of my brakes.”
“Fix it, or I bench you. Everyone, get back to your positions. We're running this again.”
Dimitri gives him a salute and skates off.
Prick.
We end up running that play five more times, each time Dimitri taking every chance he gets to elbow me or whack me with his stick. The only difference is, he gets sneakier about it after each run-through.
Aiden’s getting it too, but that bastard deserves it for hooking up with Liv behind my back. Why would he ever think keeping something like that from me was okay?
Would you have said anything if the roles were reversed?
I shove the thought into the back corner of my mind and focus on the new play.
Puck drop.
Lost it.
Shove my stick in the way.
Got it.
Fucking hell here comes Dimitri again.
I’m not going to let him push me around this time. I’m beyond tired of his shit today.
At the last second, I slap the puck to Max, even though it’s supposed to go to Aiden, and jump out of the way.
I extend my stick and trip Dimitri as he blows past me. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ice cracked with how hard he falls.
Next thing I know, he’s up and there’s a fist in my gut.
We’re a blur of fists and sticks. At some point, Aiden comes in and tries to force us apart, but he just gets dragged into it.
When we finally break, we’re all bleeding and Coach looks like he’s ready to murder us.
“All of you, penalty box. Now.”
We all know better than to argue. Shame quickly replaces the adrenaline from the fight.
This time, when I look at Dimitri and Aiden, I see my friends. Friends that now have bloody noses and split lips along with a smattering of bruises from our fight.
That’s when it hits me. We’ve been friends for over a decade, and this is what we do to each other over a girl?
Liv will be so disappointed if she ever finds out. I clear my throat awkwardly.
“Things got out of hand. We should have talked about this after what happened in New York. I’m sorry.”
“I was out of line. I shouldn’t have played so dirty with you, both of you,” Dimitri admits.
Aiden sighs. “I never should have rubbed things in at breakfast nor should I have kept it from any of you. Things have just been so…”
“Complicated?” I suggest.
“That works. And instead of talking about it like we should have, we went at each other’s throats. Look at what we did. We just beat the shit out of each other and might have screwed the team over. They might even bench us tomorrow.”
“And we’d deserve it,” Dimitri says, rubbing at his bruised jaw. “Look, I know our relationship started with a fight, but I don’t want it to end with one too.”
“We’re grown men, we should be behaving better than when we were teenagers, not worse.” Aiden shakes his head ruefully. “I don’t think I can apologize enough.”
I can’t see it, but I’m pretty sure a cartoon lightbulb manifests over the top of my head.
“Maybe that’s the answer.”
“What do you mean?” asks Dimitri.
“Well, when we were teenagers, we kept everything out in the open with what was going on between the four of us. There were no secrets the last time we were all seeing her. Maybe that’s what we need to do. Go to her, tell her what happened, and let her tell us what she wants, because it seems like she’s got at least one of us on her mind.”
“Not exactly,” Aiden says. “The last time we were together, she said something that made it sound like she’s got conflicting feelings about the two of you as well.”
“I think Connor’s right. What’s happening between us is exactly like when we were sixteen. And since younger us seemed to have more sense than we do now, we need to do the same thing we did then.”
Dimitri nods in agreement. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but what if she wants the same thing she wanted when we were sixteen? How the hell are we going to manage that without killing each other?”
“We figured it out then, I’m sure we can figure it out now. We just have to be better at talking to each other about everything, keep a clear head and keep jealousy out of it.”
“There’s no sense in borrowing trouble from tomorrow. We’re already up to our necks in it today.” Aiden grimaces. “Let’s just talk to her and see what she has to say.”
“Works for me.”
“Me too.”
“Are we good?” I ask.
“As long as we keep things out in the open, we’re good,” Aiden says.
“I can do that.”
“So can I.”
I glance up to see Coach making his way over. I brace myself for the worst.
“Looks like you finally worked out whatever bullshit you had festering,” he says. “I hoped shoving all three of you in there would do the trick.” Then his eyes narrow. “It did do the trick, right?”
“It’s not going to be a problem again, sir,” I say.
Dimitri and Aiden nod their assent.
“Good.” He leans in closer. “But just so you’re aware, if you ever pull that shit again, it’s not going to be a nice little timeout in the box. You do this again I don’t care that you’re my top players. Your asses will be riding the bench for three games. Are we clear?”
“Yes, Coach,” we say in unison.
“Great. Now get back out there. We have a game to win tomorrow.”