BEING ALONE SUCKS
MATTHEW
B ells never caved.
Never gave in.
She did, however, call me right the fuck out on my drinking and potential issues. I played it off—because of course I did. I eventually explained that I wanted to take her home and live out all my wildest fantasies in her honor.
She was unmoved.
Unfazed.
And honestly downright unimpressed.
I hated the way she saw me now, like she oscillated between disliking and pitying me. Part of me was sure that I deserved her ire though. I must have done something in the past to make her act this way, even if I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“I’d love to go home with you tonight, Matthew O’Grady.” Some brunette wrapped her hand around my biceps and gave them a squeeze right after I finished spinning Clara around the dance floor.
When I turned to look at the woman, I realized I had no idea who she even was. Peeling her fingers from my arm, I gave her a forced smile. “Not tonight,” was all I said before walking away.
“Uncle Matthew?” Clara looked up at me, her cheeks rosy from all the dancing.
I leaned down to be at her eye level. “Yes, sweet girl?”
“I’m tired. I need a break.”
Her honesty made me smile, and I reached for her little hand and wondered where the heck her parents were. “Let’s go find your dad and your mama.”
“Over there.” She pointed off in the distance, where Thomas and Brooklyn stood, talking to my dad. “They’re with Pops.”
“I see that. Let’s go interrupt them.” I smirked, and Clara giggled. She was the only one who seemed to encourage my mischievous ways.
“Yes.” She laughed some more as she clapped her hands together.
We walked hand in hand toward the new bride and groom.
“Hate to interrupt—” I started to say.
“No, you don’t,” my dad interjected, and Clara laughed some more.
“We did it on purpose,” she said, ratting me out before she put her hand in front of her mouth.
“I just wanted to deliver this tired little package to her owners.” I spun Clara one last time before she leaped into her dad’s arms and put her head on his shoulder.
“What about you? Heading home?” Thomas asked as he looked behind me. For what, I had no idea.
“Pretty soon, yeah.”
“Alone?” Brooklyn questioned with a smug look, and I knew she assumed I’d be taking some lucky lady home tonight.
“Yep. Alone.” I tried not to sound as disappointed as I felt about the situation.
“Oh.” Brooklyn reared her head back. “I was actually kidding. I figured there was something going on between you and Bella. It sure looked that way.”
I inhaled a long, deep, filling breath before letting it out. “There definitely is nothing going on there.”
I turned around to glance at the gorgeous bartender, only to find her watching us. Well, well, well, that was at least a little bit interesting.
Brooklyn saw where I was looking, and she put a hand on my shoulder. “I think you might be wrong about that.”
“I’d love to be wrong about that,” I admitted.
“Sure you’re not?” she questioned, and I could only shrug.
“Pretty sure. I think she might actually hate me.”
Clara lifted her head from her dad’s shoulder at that. “Who hates you, Uncle Matthew? Want me to beat them up?”
We all started laughing. No one more than my dad.
“You think you can fight, little one?” he asked.
Clara started nodding. “I’d sure try,” she said.
“I’m okay, but thank you.” I patted her head, and I swore she was about two minutes from falling dead asleep.
“Are you having a family powwow without us?” Patrick suddenly appeared with Addi at his side. “Seems kinda rude.”
“Nah. We were just trying to figure out if Bella hates Matthew or not,” Brooklyn said with a grin, and just like that, we were back on the one topic I desperately wanted to avoid.
“Oh, she hates him all right,” Addi said with a shit-eating grin.
“Thanks a lot,” I groaned.
“Fine. Maybe hate is a little too strong. You annoy her? Bother her? Irritate her?” Addi said each of the last three questions like they were options we were supposed to choose from.
“All of the above,” Patrick added.
“You guys are really helpful,” I said.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you wanted our help,” Patrick piped back up. “Need a wingman?”
“Or a wingwoman?” Brooklyn asked quickly.
“Should we all go over to the bar in one big, intimidating bunch?” That was my dad’s suggestion.
“The O’Grady gang. We must force you to go home with our little brother or else ,” Patrick said with a laugh.
Apparently, now that Addi was back in his life, he was a fucking comedian. Couldn’t get the guy to say two words the past four years, and now, he wouldn’t shut the hell up.
“ Leave with him and let him bed you, or face the consequences ,” Thomas added, his voice extra deep and over the top.
“Whatever is happening here, can we please make it stop?” I ran my hand down my face, pretending to be in agony.
“But this is too much fun,” Patrick choked out. “You’re always the one getting involved in our personal lives. It’s about time we butt into yours.”
“Yeah, but I fixed both of yours. Look at you two now.” I pointed at my brothers, who were both coupled up, and I liked to think I’d had a hand in that happening. Not that it wouldn’t have eventually anyway, but I’d definitely sped things up.
Thomas looked at his wife as Patrick looked at his fiancée. They couldn’t even argue. I’d helped them out.
They were welcome!
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Rinata hasn’t stopped staring at you all night,” Brooklyn said with a slight head nod.
I glanced over and spotted the brunette from earlier. “Yeah, I don’t even know who that is.”
“Does it matter?” Thomas asked seriously.
“What is happening right now? Leave me alone. I’m not going home with anyone,” I ground out, hoping to stop this insane conversation that was happening not only in front of my eight-year-old niece, but my dad as well.
Plus, if it wasn’t going to be Bells, then it wasn’t going to be any female. I’d done enough of that the last handful of years. But I knew if my brothers heard me saying those thoughts out loud, they’d tease me relentlessly. I’d always given them so much shit about their dicks being on hiatus, but whose dick was on pause now?
It was mine, in case you were wondering.
When was the last time I had sex anyway?
It was right around the time I’d moved back to Sugar Mountain. I’d given in to some tourist I’d met one afternoon at the diner. She knew exactly who I was, and it inflated my ego when I really fucking needed it. I’d been feeling so down, so shitty about retiring, that any attention felt like good attention.
Even if it only lasted for an hour.
The second it’d ended and she was on her way, I’d felt like shit again.
There hadn’t been a moment while I played professional hockey that I didn’t sleep around. It came with the territory. Plus, I was young and single, so no harm, no foul, right? Gorgeous women waited in the bar of the team’s hotel each night when we were on the road. I’d walk into the dimly lit space and literally take my pick. It was that easy.
But that was all it ever was. Easy. Superficial. No strings attached. Barely more than a fuck. Even when the woman pushed for more, my answer was always the same— I don’t have time for a relationship . I’d tell them I’d see them the next time I was in town, and sometimes, I did. Most of the time, I didn’t.
Honestly, I wasn’t looking for anything more than sex. And for a guy who hated being alone, I had no idea why I wasn’t. It seemed like a girlfriend was exactly what I needed. Someone to come home to, to talk to each night, but for whatever reason, I refused to get attached. The answers as to why that was lay somewhere inside my fucked-up head, but I was too scared to confront them. So, I avoided them at all costs.
I could make all the excuses I’d wanted while I was on the road, playing hockey, but being back in Sugar Mountain, I was forced to face all the things I’d been trying to escape. Hence, why I’d been drinking too much.
Which truly made no sense.
Because the worst part about drinking was that it made me feel even lonelier. None of my sadness disappeared. It was always amplified.
“Hello? Earth to Matthew.” Someone’s voice broke through my inner thoughts.
I shook my head and found myself looking down at both Thomas and Patrick. Yeah, I was taller than both of them. It was only by two inches, but still, taller was taller.
“What?” I snapped.
“I asked if you needed a ride home,” Patrick said.
“Yeah, probably shouldn’t drive. Thanks,” I admitted. I had no business driving after drinking the way I had been. Even if I felt fine, I knew I technically wasn’t.
“Let’s go then. Brother, Brooklyn, Clara, Dad, we’re off.” Patrick said his goodbyes to the rest of our family, and I did the same, each one of us hugging before separating.
“It was the perfect wedding,” I said with a grin, meaning the words.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Brooklyn looked up at her husband with the sweetest gaze before squeezing little Clara’s arm gently.
“I had so much fun,” Clara said around a yawn.
“Me too,” I agreed before waving and following behind Patrick and Addison, who were already halfway out of the barn.
I glanced over my shoulder to get one last look at Bells, but her back was toward me, and she wasn’t paying me any attention at all.
Patrick and Addi stopped in front of my condo. It was a really nice place, but the majority of the owners didn’t live here, and they were rented out constantly during the tourist seasons. This was a good and bad thing. Good because most of Sugar Mountain couldn’t be all up in my business if they couldn’t see me. Bad because the majority of tourists ended up recognizing me and it made things awkward at times when they asked for autographs, pictures, and other things.
“When are you going to buy a house and get some privacy?” Patrick asked as I was reaching for the door handle on his shitty truck.
Everyone had an opinion on my choice of living conditions. My brothers all wanted me to buy a house or some land, and I understood, but wasn’t ready. The condo was plenty big for me, and a giant home would only remind me of how alone I truly was. Just because Patrick had been fine with living in his dream home without his dream woman didn’t mean I would be. How could I get a house when I wasn’t sure who I’d be sharing it with?
“When are you going to buy a truck from this century?” I shot back.
“They’re not really the same thing.” He shook his head.
“Bye,” I said as I exited his truck.
I headed up the stairs toward my place. That was when I noticed the busty blonde sitting at the top, and I realized Patrick had seen her as well, hence his mention of privacy.
She pushed herself up quickly and fluffed her hair. “Hi.”
“Hello.” I tried to walk past her, but she maneuvered herself in front of me.
“I was hoping you’d come back alone.” She grinned.
A year ago, I would have shut her up with a kiss, but now, I just wanted her to go away.
“Do I know you?” My tone wasn’t necessarily friendly, but I also tried not to sound overly rude.
These encounters always ended up on gossip sites, where I got labeled an asshole or a dick. I didn’t enjoy strangers hating me. Unless it was based on my hockey skills and beating their team on the ice—that was different.
Having a million people think I was rude to fans didn’t make me feel great. Especially when it wasn’t true and it was typically because of situations like this.
“Oh, no. I thought we could get to know each other, if you know what I mean.” She giggled. “I’m only here for two more days and figured I’d better shoot my shot.”
“Well”—I paused and searched my mind for what the hell to say that didn’t include telling this chick to leave me the fuck alone—“I’ve had a long day, and I really need to go to bed.”
“I could join you,” she pushed, stepping so close to me that her fake tits hit me in the stomach.
I instinctively stepped back.
“I have a girlfriend,” I lied.
Her face fell. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know.” She looked all around at the otherwise empty complex. “But she’s not here though. We could still…” She paused.
I hated everything about what was happening and the way this stranger perceived me. That since my imaginary girlfriend wasn’t around, I’d be the kind of guy to cheat on her and fuck this chick anyway. A lot of professional athletes did do that shit, but I wasn’t one of them.
“She’s on her way after she wraps up work,” I lied again as Bells’s face filled my mind. “Nice to meet you, but I need to go.”
“Can’t blame a girl for trying, right?”
I sucked in a breath instead of responding and waited for her to take a fucking hint already. I needed her to walk away so that she didn’t try to memorize my house code over my shoulder while I punched it in. After what felt like an eternity, she finally headed toward the staircase in the opposite direction, and I pushed the buttons on the keypad.
Maybe it really was time to start house-shopping. Encounters like the one I’d just had were beginning to happen more frequently, and it wasn’t even tourist season yet. I valued my privacy, and I seemed to be getting less and less of it while living here in these condos. I wondered if someone had posted where my place was online, and that was why so many fangirls had started showing up in the complex. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Things like that had happened in the past during the season, so why wouldn’t it happen now?
The two locks unlatched, and I opened the front door and relocked it before sitting down on my couch, pulling off my tie, and tossing my cell phone next to me. I’d left the TV on, and of course, highlights of tonight’s sports games were playing on a loop. I reached for the remote and clicked the Mute button, groaning. I still wasn’t in the mental capacity to watch my old team win or lose games without me. The pain of walking away felt a little too fresh sometimes. Even though I knew I’d done the right thing, for the team and myself, it still fucking sucked. I should have been playing professional hockey for at least eight more seasons. And now, I was on my couch, watching them play without me like I’d never been on the team at all.
My hockey career was over, and sooner or later, I really needed to get a grip on that fact. Maybe moving out of the condo would help. An idea sprang to life in my brain, and I found myself huffing out a laugh. Bells had just gotten her real estate license. I’d overheard her telling someone that she wasn’t sure if she liked the business or not, but hadn’t gotten enough time under her belt to really know.
I grabbed my phone and typed out a text.
How about you take me house-shopping, Bells?
Who is this?
The man of your dreams.
More like nightmares.
I’ll take it. The man of your nightmares, then.
You want to go house-shopping? For real or is this some kind of ploy?
Ploy for what exactly? I can’t take another random chick showing up at my condo, begging to sleep with me. I need privacy, Bells. I think it’s time, and you’re the only one I trust.
…
I waited for her response, my heart beating so damn hard that I thought it might break out of my chest. The dots continued to dance, disappear, and then dance again. It was downright torture.
Fine.
Her response was literally one word, but I’d take it and push like hell for more.
Tomorrow.
Fine.
Looked like Bells and I were going house-shopping together.
I finally had something to look forward to.