Chapter 9 Libido Woes
Chapter Nine
Libido Woes
My sources report that a certain problematic Icehawk is causing trouble again, despite the team’s first playoff game looming on the near horizon.
His play this past month has been mediocre at best, and he’s disruptive in the locker room.
Last night after the game, this player was spotted staggering into a hotel with three women on his arm.
The group was thrown out of a couple clubs for being drunk and disorderly before they entered this nearby hotel.
This same player missed practice this morning.
The Icehawks’ chances of making it out of the first round are slim, and his total disregard for his team and his own game may well be their downfall. —Aria at All Hockey News
~~Drakos~~
I enjoy the luxury of sleeping in until 11:00 a.m.
It’s Saturday morning, and Coach gave us a day off, not that I’ll take it.
I’ll go into the Itch (as we call the Icehawks Hockey Complex) and work out this afternoon.
There’s no slacking off when you’re about to head into the playoffs.
I shuffle from my room and down the hall, yawning and scratching my bare chest.
I stop in my tracks and stare at Kirby, who’s in the living room. He’s holding a small bundle of what looks like a dried plant. He holds it up, lights the end, speaks in his native tongue, then carefully blows out the flame. Smoke wafts around the room.
“What are you doing?”
“There’s bad energy in this room. I’m cleansing it.”
I bark out a laugh but sober quickly. He’s not joking. He’s dead serious.
“Like what kind of bad energy?” I ask.
“I feel it but cannot see it.”
“It’s probably Aria. She spreads bad energy wherever she goes.”
“Aria has been in this room?” Kirby studies me with interest.
“No, but her bad energy sticks to me like Gorilla Glue.”
Kirby looks thoughtful but says nothing. Instead, he circles the room and fans the smoke to spread it. The windows are wide open, even though it’s a chilly spring day.
“What are you burning?”
“Sage.”
“Anything to rid me of that woman is fine by me.”
Kirby almost smiles before returning his full attention to his task.
“I think I’ll get a shower while you finish up.” Shaking my head, I hurry back to my bedroom. Kirby is a different guy, and sometimes I really don’t know how to take him. His Native American heritage is important to him, and I respect that, even if I don’t understand it.
When I return about a half hour later, Kirby is sitting on a stool at the counter.
The windows are still open, and the smell of sage lingers in the air.
My roommate’s head is buried in his tablet, which is unusual.
Kirby isn’t much for being online, but something definitely has his undivided attention.
I’m still flying high from the win last night and not overly concerned.
I pour a cup of strong coffee and join him at the counter.
We head to Colorado next for the first two games in the first round of the playoffs. Damn, that feels good to say. We fly in tomorrow in order to have one day to acclimate before we start the grind that’s the playoffs. Postseason hockey is not for the faint of heart, or so I’ve heard.
“Let’s play a little one-on-one after we work out,” I suggest to Kirby.
“Sure.” Kirby doesn’t lift his head. He’s immersed in something he’s reading or watching.
Curious, I lean over to look. He holds his tablet out so it’s easier to read.
“I’m guessing we know who she’s referring to.”
I read the article full of bullshit accusations and lies. I’m angry that she’s capitalizing on our surging popularity to further her own agenda.
“I’d say me, but I didn’t go out clubbing last night. You know that. Nor did I pick up three women. Fuck, I didn’t even pick up one woman. And I’m fucking not a problem in the locker room.”
“It has to be someone else.”
“It’s no one else. I’m the one she’s always going after. She makes this shit up if she can’t exploit some small fact into an outrageous story. She didn’t name anyone on purpose because none of us did this.”
Kirby rubs his chin and regards me thoughtfully. “I know you didn’t do those things, but you’re right, she’s referring to you.”
I growl with frustration. This woman is pushing me too far. I’m so fed up with her. “Damn it.”
“You know how to shut her up, right?”
“Yeah, play my game and not let the noise get to me, especially her brand of disruptive noise.” I draw in a deep breath and turn to Kirby with renewed determination.
I’m finally in the playoffs. I will not allow her to ruin this for me.
I’ve never been in the playoffs. My former team was a bottom dweller with no signs of improving any time soon.
It gives me great pleasure that I’m playing in the playoffs, and they’re not.
“Hopefully, this’ll all blow over before practice tomorrow.”
“Hopefully.” I don’t hold out hope because Aria is ruthless, driven, and evil. She’ll do whatever she can to bring me down.
“What’s her issue with you anyway?”
“Hell if I know. I guess she had to pick someone, and I’m it.
Sucks to be me.” I laugh, but it’s a hollow sound and almost pathetic.
Right now, it does suck to be me. I might’ve had an assist last night, but I’m not at the top of my game, and that’s where I need to be to help this team go deep in the playoffs.
Everyone’s already counting us out. They expect us to lose four straight to Colorado. Over my dead body.
“Her previous article about us making the playoffs was incredible.”
“I know. I had to look at the byline to make sure it was actually written by her. It was so out of character.”
Kirby snorts and nods his agreement. “Very much so, but there’s something else going on with her. I don’t think she’s a bad person.”
“And how can you make that judgment based on the limited info we have?”
“She’s devoted to her nephew, and he clearly adores her.”
I can’t argue with that. I guess every evil person has one positive quality, but I won’t give her any more credit than that.
A couple hours later, I’m at the practice facility. Kirby and I work out, play some one-on-one, which neither of us win. It’s a dead heat.
Kirby takes off, and I’m left to my own devices.
I consider dropping in on one of the youth hockey practices, but I don’t want to run into Aria.
I’m not sure I’ll hold back if I see her.
Best to stay far away. She’s untrustworthy.
If I chew her ass out, she’ll probably get a video and post it everywhere.
I won’t give her any further fodder for her dirty deeds.
I regret agreeing to help her nephew, but knowing her, she’ll find a way to prevent it, which might be for the best.
Then again, Aria shouldn’t control what I do. Why am I letting her do so? With renewed determination, I head for one of the practice rinks. I round the corner to the entrance when I hear raised voices and stop in my tracks. I know those voices. It’s Aria and Gardenia.
“I thought we were friends.” Gardenia’s tone is full of hurt and confusion, but I sense an underlying anger.
“We are friends.”
“I’ve been defending you, and now you betray our friendship and the team like this?” Gardenia is now full-blown furious.
“I—I—” Aria is clearly at a loss for words. “It’s my job.”
“And you’re okay with a job that ruins others’ lives through lies and half-truths?”
“I—don’t have a choice.”
“Everyone has a choice. Either conduct yourself with integrity or succumb to the never-ending quest for more clicks and recognition from people who don’t care what the truth is. You peddle lies and misinformation.”
Aria doesn’t respond. What can she say? Gardenia is right.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for the boys to hang around with Noah outside of practice. I cannot allow your lack of morals and ethics to negatively influence them.”
“You can’t punish the kids because of me.”
“I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice.
There isn’t a guy on this team who did what you claimed after clinching a playoff berth, and you know it.
You fabricated the entire bullshit story, which makes you the worst kind of person in my book.
I regret ever being kind to you. I think everyone deserves a chance, but you blew yours. ”
I shift my weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. I don’t want to be caught spying. I glance around for an escape route, but the only choice I have is to walk past them. Squaring my shoulders, I saunter around the corner as if I haven’t a care in the world.
Gardenia sees me and snaps her mouth shut. Without a word, she spins around and pushes through the heavy metal doors that lead into the rink. Aria’s back is to me. She doesn’t see me.
Much to my horror, Aria bursts into tears and runs down the hall. Tripping over a mop bucket, she lands hard, sprawls on the floor, and doesn’t move. I hesitate, torn between ignoring her predicament, which she deserves, or offering help, which she’ll most likely rebuke.
I hear her groan, and damn it, I can’t refuse assistance. I’m truly a good guy deep down. Sometimes it’s my fatal flaw.
Another pathetic groan.
Shit.
With a resigned sigh, I approach and am inappropriately flippant. “Hey, I know I’m gorgeous and irresistible, but you should stop falling at my feet like that.” I can’t resist needling her. I brace myself for her comeback. She doesn’t respond, which alarms me, and now I feel like a real asshole.
“Aria? You okay?”
“No,” she says with a muffled sob, and covers her head with her arms. Now I’m concerned, and I kneel down beside her.
“Did you break anything?” I reach out to touch her carefully, examining her for signs of injury. She flinches, and I draw back. I’m a fool to touch her. She’ll probably write an exposé on how I’m a sexual predator or something equally heinous.