Chapter 2
two
Kyler
“Last call,” I holler out and prepare for the rush of people coming to the bar.
It’s Thursday night, and for the most part, quiet.
I know a few kids from school who are hanging out, but the rest of the crowd are summer stragglers, determined to extend their vacation by a couple more nights.
I can’t say I blame them. The idea of starting classes next week is daunting, and I’m not looking forward to the Monday through Friday hassle of having to study, sit through lectures, and prepare for the upcoming hockey season.
People start to leave. The regulars tell me goodbye, and some wish me good luck.
I’ve spent countless hours talking to them about school and hockey.
They’ll come to the games when they start, and most will show up when our Blue Line Club has some event where fans can come meet the players.
Some forget I’ll be working up until hockey season starts, and then my days will vary.
Even though I’m on a scholarship, I still have to work.
The “full-ride” offer schools give is pretty much a joke.
Granted, they pay for my schooling, on-campus food, and books, but that’s it.
If I need clothes, a damn snack, or gas for my car—it’s all on me.
Most of the guys on the team still get an allowance from their parents.
No such luck when it comes to my parents.
Actually, just a parent. My dad bailed when I was two, leaving my mom to raise my sister and me on a very limited income.
To say I grew up on the struggle bus would be an understatement, and I’m only where I am because of sponsors.
There’s no way in hell my mom would’ve been able to afford to keep me in the hockey programs without programs aimed at helping underprivileged kids.
A hottie comes up to the bar with her empty martini glass.
She’s been in town for two weeks, taking advantage of the late season sales, which are meant to increase tourism in Northport.
“Hey,” she says in what should sound like a sultry voice but comes off as raspy and a bit too loud because of all the extra bar noise.
“Manhattan?” I ask her as I take her empty glass and set it with the others I need to wash. When I turn back to her, she’s leaning on the bar with her breasts pushed together. After two weeks of trying, the answer will still be “no” from me.
“What time do you close?”
I smirk at her question. She’s trying hard to pick me up. “It’s last call, sunshine. You’ve got thirty minutes until the bar closes.”
“So, you can leave in a half hour?” Her eyes twinkle.
I hold up my finger and tend to the patrons around her.
I’m not trying to be rude, but I need the tips from the people clamoring for one last drink.
Miss Sunshine stays at the bar, even though I’m doing my best to ignore her.
Each time I have to mix another drink, she’s there smiling.
It would be so easy to take her back to my place or fuck her in the alley behind the bar, but that’s not who I am.
There’s too much on my plate to be messing around with one-night stands.
I’m probably the one bartender in the world who doesn’t take anyone back to their place or screw someone in their car.
I fear pregnancy. I’ve heard so many horror stories of a one-night stand knock-ups, it’s enough for me to keep my Johnson zipped up tightly in my pants.
The cutest brunette saddles up the bar, and I head to her. I lean over and place a kiss on her cheek. “What’s up?”
She motions toward the vacationer. “Someone looks dejected.”
I don’t bother to look over my shoulder. “She’s looking to get laid.”
My sister, Ally, scoffs. Every time I think I’ve got it lousy, Ally reminds me she’s in a much worse situation. At least I’m going somewhere with this hockey thing and will have a degree when I graduate college. Every time Ally turns around, something needs money. Money she doesn’t have.
“Who’s watching Lacey?”
“Mom is.”
“Is she sober?” I ask, knowing full well the answer is no.
Ally ignores my question. “Lacey needs some school supplies.”
Those five words are all my sister needs to say. I nod and pull out my wallet. I hand Ally all the cash I have in there from last night’s tips. “If you need more, let me know. I can take Lacey shopping for clothes next week when I get paid.”
“Thanks,” she says. Ally clutches the money in her hand and wipes a fallen tear away from her cheek with her other hand. “I’ll pay you back.”
“You know I won’t take it.” There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for my niece.
Her father bailed when my sister told him she was pregnant, and for whatever reason, my sister insists on keeping his identity to herself.
She knows if she told me, I’d beat the shit out of him for bailing on my niece.
I’d do the same thing to my dad if he walked into my bar or showed up at one of my games.
I pull out my phone, open my sound machine app, and click on “Closing Time” by Semisonic.
One of the best songs to play when it’s time to close.
“Stay, and I’ll walk you out,” I tell Ally. The last thing I want is for her to walk out alone with all these drunk assholes staggering around her.
My sister—the saint she is—starts to help me clean up. She comes behind the bar, grabs a bucket, and begins cleaning the tables.
“I get it now,” the woman at the bar says. To be honest, I forgot she was waiting for me.
“What do you get?” I ask.
“Why you’ve ignored my flirting. You know you should really wear a ring.”
She thinks Ally is my wife.
“Yeah, I lost it,” I lie.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you next year.” She leaves the bar without a goodbye. I almost feel bad, but I don’t. I never gave her any sign I was interested in her.
Once the bar is cleaned, everything is washed or in the dishwasher, and the floor has been vacuumed, Ally and I head out. “Thanks for sticking around,” I tell her when we get to her car.
“As if I had a choice.”
I motion toward the cameras. “They don’t always work, and I worry about you.”
“I know, and I love you for it.” Ally hugs me and then gets into her car. She locks it immediately, knowing it’s what I want. I watch her drive away before heading to mine.
The drive back to my off-campus house takes about ten minutes.
The University of Northport sits along the coast, but the house I share with my teammates is on the backside of campus, and there isn’t a direct route due to some random one-way streets, which I’ll never ever get the hang of navigating.
Whoever invented these sucks. There’s nothing worse than missing your turn and having to go blocks out of your way to turn around.
As soon as I pull in front of my house and see the light on in the attic bedroom, I remember Jude’s sister moved in earlier today.
When he came to us a month ago and asked what we thought about her living with us, none of us really cared as long as she understood we’re hockey players who party after a win, who drink beer, and we stink.
Hockey gear is not easy to clean, no matter how many times we hose it down.
Jude reminded us she grew up with him and wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about our horrific seasonal odor.
He’s protective of her, much like I am of Ally, and didn’t want her living on campus due to some incidents last year.
I can’t say I blame him. If this were my sister transferring, I’d feel the same way.
I’m pleasantly surprised to find the door locked when I turn the knob.
“Well, shit,” I mutter as I thumb through my keys until I find the one for the house.
I suppose it’s not a bad thing, locking the front door, but something I’ll have to get used to.
The other guys on the team who live a few houses down from us won’t like the fact they can’t come and raid our refrigerator whenever they see fit, which is definitely something I can get used to.
Something smells amazing when I step into the entryway.
“Damn,” I mutter as I place my hand over my stomach.
Someone cooked, and I missed it. I slip my keys back into my pocket and head to the kitchen, hoping whatever was made is sitting on the community shelf in the fridge.
That’s how we know it’s a shareable item.
Much like when we get pizzas on sale or the bar owner has catered something, I can bring home the extras.
We have a free-for-all shelf we all contribute to.
I open the fridge and find a plate on my shelf with a note:
Kyler,
My thank you for letting me move in.
Thea.
Thea.
My heart skips a beat at her kindness. She doesn’t even know me, yet was kind enough to put a plate away for me.
Who does stuff like this? I don’t even bother to look at what’s under the plastic wrap and set the plate in the microwave.
I already know I’m going to like it because of the lingering aroma.
I watch the time tick down, stopping the clock before the machine beeps and wakes people in the house.
The plate is hot, but I don’t care. I’m starving.
I don’t even know the last time I had a home-cooked meal.
As soon as I sit down at the small table in the kitchen, the stairs creak.
One of the guys is awake, and I can for sure as shit bet they want some of what I have.
They can all fuck off. This is mine. I’m about to cover my food protectively when I glance toward the doorway.
It’s not one of my roommates . . . well, it is, but the new one.
“Hi,” she says. “I’m Thea. You must be Kyler.”
I’ve never been a fan of my name, yet the way she says it makes me come alive. Thea stands in the doorway between the dining room and kitchen in sweatpants and a Northport hockey T-shirt with her hair piled on top of her head, staring at me, waiting for me to say something.
“Di . . .” I pause and reset. “Did you make this?” My fork points to the heaping pile of lasagna.
She nods and comes into the kitchen. “I did. It’s the least I can do since you guys allowed me to move in.” Thea goes to the cabinet and grabs two glasses. She fills them both with water and then carries them over to where I’m sitting, placing one in front of me.
“Thanks.” I’m not sure what I’m thanking her for, the food or the water.
“I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I’m going to love it.” And I probably would if I could muster a bite, but I’m afraid to take my eyes off of her.
I’ve seen Thea at games and even in pictures, but we’ve never met.
Honestly, I wish we had because then maybe I wouldn’t feel like my tongue is swollen or my heart is trying to run its own marathon.
This woman—no, Jude’s sister—has me tongue-tied and searching for coherent words.
I shouldn’t feel this way, because again, she’s my buddy's sister, but if Thea were the one hitting on me at the bar, I’d still be there, fucking her six ways to Sunday.
“If you tell me what kind of foods you like, I can make those for you.”
“You don’t have to cook for me,” I tell her.
“I know, but I want to. I like cooking, and I know Jude eats a ton of junk food, which isn’t good when you guys are in season. Northport has a good chance of winning it all this year. Think of how much faster you’ll be on the ice with a balanced diet.”
“You have a point, but I would feel awkward.”
Thea smiles, and every part of me alights with excitement.
“It’s something I want to do. It’s no problem if you don’t have a list. Just know there will always be a plate waiting for you when you come home.
” She stands and takes her glass of water with her.
“Goodnight, Kyler. It was nice meeting you.”
She gives me a small wave and then disappears. I listen to her footsteps until she’s reached the top floor. Once her door closes, I inhale deeply, absorbing every bit of her she’s left behind.
“I’m so fucked.”