Chapter 11
Gray
I haven’t seen much of Ash since I met the team.
I’m in the middle of midterm exams at the university, so I’ve been underwater with grading and helping my grad students with their research and teaching responsibilities.
The break Melinda promised me from my service activities has only partially materialized, and I’m exhausted.
While Ash and I haven’t seen much of each other, we text constantly. I know when his practices and games are, and he knows when I teach, so there are periods of silence between us, but when our free time lines up, especially on nights he doesn’t have games, we text for hours.
The small thrill I get when my phone dings with an incoming text from Ash is reminiscent of the way I used to feel with Drew in the beginning of our relationship, back when things were good.
Which terrifies me. I shouldn’t feel this excited at the prospect of seeing or talking to the hockey player I’m supposed to be working with.
Our text conversations are completely innocent. Ash hasn’t sent any further ‘accidental’ pics, and he hasn’t asked for any inappropriate ones from me. Our messages are devoid of flirtation, yet there’s still something stimulating about them, as if the anticipation is there below the surface.
That’s the way it feels for me, at least. I can’t speak for Ash, and it’s probably better that way, because if I get any inkling that he likes our conversations as much as I do, things could detour quickly.
We talk mostly about his game play and what he’s thinking or feeling.
Ash has started to recognize some of his triggers on the ice, but he’s still unable to stop himself from reacting, so that’s what we need to focus on moving forward.
It’s hard to do much over text, so we need to meet soon, but for now our message sessions are at least inching us forward in his treatment.
Alright, fine. Our text convos aren’t entirely game-related.
There are occasional personal questions thrown in – What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Or where are you planning to take your next vacation? – but nothing too deep.
For my own part, I think I’ve latched onto Ash as a life raft because my online dating experiences have been abysmal. Worse than abysmal really, but I can’t find a strong enough term to describe the clusterfuckery that is my romantic life.
I’m still on two dating apps at Celena’s insistence, and she makes me go on a date at least once a week. Thankfully I haven’t had much time for more, because the three dates I’ve been on recently have been duds.
To start, I finally had to break it to Barry that I didn’t want a second date.
I can’t bring myself to ghost anyone, so I told him outright I didn’t think we connected.
He disagreed, but he ultimately accepted my decision and stopped messaging me.
How he considered that date a success, I’ll never know.
My next three dates weren’t any better. The first was with an investment banker who spent half the date talking about banking and the other half talking about his car. Thankfully he never texted me again after.
The second guy started the date by being rude to our waitress, but I walked out when he began spouting homophobic comments about the two men together a couple booths down.
The third guy seemed promising for the first twenty minutes.
He listened attentively to me as I explained my research, but things went downhill when he dismissed my statistical evidence and mansplained to me how the effectiveness of trash talk was in fact due to mental distraction for most athletes and not emotional disruption, as my study found.
I now text both Celena and Ash after each date to complain. Celena empathizes, then pushes me to get back on the dating apps and find someone else. Ash commiserates with me and assures me the men I go out with aren’t worth my time.
He also convinced me I wasn’t crazy for being disenchanted with the dating status quo. He’s been single since he and Grace broke up, and he admitted he’s not eager to put himself back out there again.
I didn’t loop Ash into my dating drama on purpose. I told him one evening I had a date and would need to talk to him later, so he messaged me that night to see how it went. I told him the truth, and we spent the rest of the night texting back and forth about what happened.
After that, it became normal for him to check in with me after a date to see how it went, as Celena does.
I figure it can’t hurt to get the male perspective, so I tell him whatever he wants to know.
Luckily the dates never get to the point of intimacy, so I don’t have to worry about sharing such details.
My phone pings just as I get home and set my groceries on the kitchen island. At this time of evening, it’s likely one of two people, and my heartbeat picks up a little as I swipe the phone open. It outright hiccups when I see it’s Ash, and I chastise myself for the reaction.
Ash
No date tonight?
I smile and type a message back.
Gray
No date. Just groceries.
Ash
And how did that go?
Gray
My favorite cereal was on sale. It was a good night.
He sends thumbs up and laughing emojis, and I smile.
Gray
How was practice?
Ash
Practice is always good. I just need to play that way in games.
My heart twists for him. I wish there’s something more I can do to help, but the best I have right now is information and a few possible anger management strategies we’ve been working on.
Gray
We’ll figure something out. I promise.
It’s not a promise I can make, but I hope the lie is comforting at least.
Ash
What are you doing Saturday night?
I frown. That’s a question people generally ask if they either want to invite you out or they need a favor, like help moving. With Ash, both seem equally unlikely, and now I’m wary.
Gray
Laundry? Why?
Gray
I’m not really good at lifting couches if you need help moving or something.
He LOLs the comment.
Ash
Nothing like that.
Ash
We have a free day Sunday, so the guys are going out to the club at the casino Saturday night. I’ve been told I’m not invited unless I convince you to come.
I huff a laugh.
Gray
Looks like you’re doing laundry too then. {{winking emoji}}
He sends a crying emoji.
Ash
Pretty please? I want to go to the club! {{praying emoji}}
I let the phone sit a good minute while I put groceries away.
Going with Ash and the guys to hang out is entirely too tempting.
It’s been almost two years since I’ve been dancing at a club.
Celena and I went out regularly in our early twenties, but then life took over, and somewhere along the way we became lame, responsible adults.
My phone pings twice more before I pick it up again to answer.
Ash
PLEASE?
Ash
Kelsier will never let me live it down if I don’t get you to go.
I smile and type out my response.
Gray
Alright. But only so Kelsier can’t hold it over you.
Ash sends a celebration GIF followed by details about the time and place, a private area the team uses in a club at one of the casinos.
Ash
You can invite Celena if you want.
Gray
She already has plans.
It’s a little white lie. Celena has a problem with gambling, but luckily she knows it’s a problem and tries to avoid temptation whenever possible, so I know she’d turn down the invitation. It would kill her, but she’d turn it down. Better that she doesn’t know she was invited in the first place.
Part of me wishes Celena could come so I’m not alone with the guys and their puck bunnies, but another part – one I won’t acknowledge – is excited at the idea of hanging out with Ash without having to split my attention with someone else.
I instantly feel guilty for the thought, but I also know Celena would understand and even approve of my selfishness in this case.
Ash
I’m still riding high from Gray’s agreement to come out on Saturday night as I lie in bed texting her.
It’s only nine o’clock, but this week is kicking my ass, and I’m exhausted.
I can’t go to bed without checking in with her, though.
These nightly text-fests have become as much a part of my daily routine as working out or brushing my teeth.
I’ve barely seen Gray the last few weeks. She did come to a few more practices, but she and I haven’t had any real time to get together in a while. We’ve both been too busy to meet up at night, so we’ve worked on my trash talk issue either by talking on the phone or via text message.
Not seeing Gray has started to feel like withdrawal. It’s the kind of itch I used to experience when Grace and I hadn’t seen each other for too long because of our schedules, the kind of itch I get when I need to see a woman I’m dating…
I had a dream about Gray the other night.
Yeah, that kind of dream. The kind where I had to change my underwear because I came in them after dreaming about Gray moaning beneath me while I pumped between her thighs.
The kind where I pinned her hands above her head as she wrapped her legs around my hips, and I fucked her hard until we both came minutes later, panting with ecstasy.
I’ve given up denying I want her. I don’t know when I decided it for sure, but the dream was – ironically – my awakening to the realization.
It’s been difficult keeping our text conversations casual, because I’m dying to ask her what she likes in bed.
I keep an eye out for any hint of flirtation in her messages so I have an excuse to move the conversation to something more intimate, but so far she’s been all business.
Or mostly business. The best I’ve gotten from her is that her favorite ice cream flavor is Amaretto, and she wants to go back to Croatia on her next vacation.
I never would have guessed either of those things, and it only makes her more intriguing to me.