Chapter 18 Mickey #2
“Sweetie, we’re so excited to see you and Dutton play in a few weeks. Dad’s making all the travel arrangements. Of course, Las Vegas is too far from Grammie and Pop-pop, but they’ll be there for the celebration at Bainbridge.”
I wince at my mom’s words. Yeah, it’s great that my grandparents are coming to support me, but she’s taking it for granted that we’re going to win it all and bring home a title, like we did last year.
And have a big celebration back here at school for the players and staff and their families.
That’s the goal, obviously, but you don't just go blurting it out. Having raised a hockey player, you think my mom would know we’re notoriously superstitious.
I don’t bother correcting her, though, because that will keep us on the phone longer, and since I have a bad habit of blurting out whatever’s on my mind, this needs to be a quick conversation.
“Hey, Mom, I better get to practice,” I say, because it’s true. I do have practice. In an hour. About three minutes away from where I’m currently sitting.
“I’ll let you go, honey,” she says, and then, without even taking a breath, she just keeps talking.
“You know Janice Palumbo? You went to school with her son, Daniel. And she’s remarried to the dentist whose office is on Little Big Spring Road.
Anyway, she just had carpal tunnel surgery, and I had to run her over to her therapy appointment on Tuesday.
Oh, Brannon, this place is nice. Very clean, very professional.
They do rehab for all sorts of surgeries.
I asked the receptionist if they ever have interns, and she said they work with a lot of the local colleges.
You should give them a call. You could work there over the summer.
Wouldn’t that be better than that pizza shop? ”
“I’ll think about it, Mom. Give Dad and Brody hugs from me.
” I wait until she says goodbye before I hit the little red button on my phone, but when I do, I press so hard I nearly stub my finger.
And that makes me an asshole. My mom’s not that bad, and she means well.
But an internship at a rehab center? I mean, I guess that’s a totally normal thing…
if you’re actually an exercise science major and you have any interest in pursuing a career in your field.
But since neither of those things applies to me, I think I get to be unreasonably annoyed.
“You good?”
My frown deepens at Viv’s question. “Yep.”
“Practice go okay?”
“Yeah, why?” I ask, because it wasn’t terrible. My reaction time was for shit, and Ollie asked the trainers to check and see if my head was up my ass, but that’s nothing new.
“Uh, because you got home two minutes ago, and you look like you want to murder someone,” she answers. “And there are kittens wrestling in the bedsheets, and you haven’t even noticed them. Maybe I should take your temperature.”
I let out a sigh as I walk toward the bed to give the kittens—Jen and Stacy this time—some love. “Sorry I’m grumpy. It was a long day.”
“I get that,” Viv says, crawling up on the mattress to sit next to me. We’re each petting a kitten, but since they're in such a playful mood, they’re nipping and biting like we’re basically in a fight to the death.
It makes me crack a smile. And it makes me realize that even though my day was less than stellar, life’s still pretty fucking good.
I’ve got Doug, the greatest feline bestie a guy could ask for, and I’ve got his offspring, the sweetest cutest little furballs in the world.
And…I’ve got Viv. It may not be real, and she may not actually be mine, but she’s here right now, and I’m not going to waste a second of our time together stressing over the future.
What wisdom did the guys give me in the locker room the other day? Something about going with the flow? That I should just keep doing what I’m doing and that’s how I’ll prove to Viv that I’m not like those other assholes. I’m not going to break her heart, I’m going to cherish the hell out of it.
“You feel like getting dinner?” I ask, figuring now is as good a time as any to start my love campaign.
“Uh, didn’t you eat with the guys?” Viv asks.
“Yeah,” I concede, “but that was hours ago, and I'm hungry again.”
“Fair enough,” she says, laughing. “But we’ve got food here. We could make stir fry. How does that sound?”
“I think the freshmen ate the package of chicken that was in the fridge,” I say. It’s not exactly the truth, and it’s not exactly a lie. I mean, it was there when I checked this morning, but those freshmen can’t be trusted when it comes to food.
“Oh, well, I think there are still enchiladas from the other night. We could throw together a salad and—”
“Blue ate those,” I say. Again, it’s not quite a lie. He hasn’t eaten them. But he will, once I tell him they’re fair game.
“In that case,” Viv says, reaching for the fishing rod these kitties go nuts for, “I guess we’ll have to grab something. What sounds good?”
Shit. I haven’t thought that far ahead. “Uh…”
“Well, let’s think,” she says, leaning her head on my shoulder. “I’m a little sick of Wolfie’s, to be honest. A new sushi place opened up downtown, but I haven’t heard great things about it.”
“Oof,” I say. “Then that’s an automatic no.
There’s a pizza place out by the highway.
That could be good. I like to check out the competition,” I joke.
I’ve been working in a pizza kitchen back home during the summer break, so you think I’d be sick of both the taste and smell of pizza pie, but that just isn’t possible.
“Then let me put my shoes on, and we can go,” Viv reaches up on her tip toes, and I bend down so our lips can meet. “If pizza and cheese sticks can’t put you in a better mood, then I don’t know what can.”
The answer is Viv. Her smile is the thing that brightens my day.
Her laugh is freaking contagious. Her sense of humor has me cracking up.
And the sweet, subtle curves of her toned body drive me insane.
That’s the truth, but it’s not a truth she’s ready to hear, so I keep it to myself and grab my car keys.
It only takes about fifteen minutes until we’re turning into the parking lot of Slice of Heaven. It’s not too crowded, but it’s a Tuesday night, so I’m not super surprised. What does catch me off guard is the blinding lights coming from the place next door.
“Arre those go-karts?” Viv asks, craning her neck as I pull into a spot.
“Yeah, that’s what it looks like.” I turn off the ignition and reach into my pocket for my phone.
A quick internet search tells me all I need to know.
Need for Speed opened about three months ago, and they offer a racing experience for kids of all ages.
This might be a fun place for the hockey team to do a little bonding once the season is over.
There’s probably no real chance of bodily harm at a go-kart track, right?
Or maybe we just won’t tell Coach until we’re home safe and sound with all our limbs intact.
I’ve got my hand on the door and I can practically taste the pizza I’m about to devour even though I haven’t even entered the restaurant yet, but then I notice that Viv’s still eyeing up the go-kart track.
“You’ve got a need for speed?” I say, pointing to the sign.
Viv laughs. “I haven’t been on a go-kart since I was in middle school, but holy hell, that looks like fun.”
We step out of the car and walk to the far end of the parking lot where there’s a good view of the track. It’s not high speed racing like you see on TV, but it’s still pretty cool. “Let’s go,” I say, reaching for her hand.
“You’re that hungry, huh?” she says, laughing as she pulls me toward the pizza shop.
“No,” I say, stopping our forward motion. “I mean let’s do the go-karts. It looks like fun, and if you promise not to rat me out to Coach or post any pictures until we’re done, then I’m game.”
The smile on Viv’s face is worth a million trips around the track. On my hands and knees. Damn, when she looks at me like this, there’s literally nothing I wouldn’t do for the woman in front of me.
“But aren’t you hungry?” she says, her gaze darting between the two establishments.
I laugh as I pat my flat, muscled mid-section. “I think I can make it another hour or so before I waste away.”
I’m not even finished with my sentence when I feel her tug on my arm.
Before I know it, we’re running down an embankment, even though there’s probably a much more practical, paved route.
See? This is why Viv and I are literally perfect for each other.
The shortest distance between two spaces gets shorter if you run, after all.
“Are you two a couple or singles?”
I look up to see a guy about my dad’s age wearing a blue t-shirt with the company logo on the front and the name Ricky stitched in white thread on the pocket. The question catches me off guard as I unlock my phone and pull up my credit card. “Uh…”
“We’re together,” Viv says, hooking our arms together. And yeah, my heart skips a fucking beat like I’m a middle schooler who just got asked to dance by the coolest girl in school.
After I tap my card, the go-kart guy leads us over to the track so we can pick out a vehicle.
I’m eyeing up the choices when I feel Viv reach up and pat my shoulder.
“I hope it’s okay I said we’re together.
It’s cheaper this way. Plus, I figure you can get behind the wheel and I can be the passenger princess. ”
I do my best to brush off her reasoning and not feel it like a dagger to my heart. I’ve had a lot of practice with that. “Wait. You don’t want to drive?”
“Hell, no,” she scoffs. “That takes way too much concentration. I need to channel all my attention in one direction: the very fine art of trash talking.”
“That’s my firecracker,” I say with pride as we both walk toward the neon yellow car.
There’s no discussion. No debate. No questioning looks.
And that’s because highlighter yellow is clearly the best choice.
Our car will look like a freaking comet when we whiz past the rest of the slow pokes on the track.
We pull on our helmets and buckle in as Ricky goes over the rules and guidelines.
I can feel Viv practically vibrating with excitement in the seat next to me, and I send a silent prayer of thanks to Blue, and Ollie and the guys for forcing my hand and taking the plunge.
I know this isn’t a real date, but it feels good to be out in the world, and not just in the bubble of my bedroom.
Don’t get me wrong—that’s a fucking awesome bubble.
But this is fun, too, and I get the feeling that the other guys Viv has spent time with haven’t been big on taking her out and having a good time.
I want her to see that I’m different.
Yeah, I love her body.
I love making her scream, making her thighs tremble, making her grab hold of my headboard so hard I think the wood might splinter.
I love pleasing her and teasing her.
Hell, I just love her.
And I want her to see that.
“Go! Oh my freaking god, Mickey! Hit the gas!” The woman of my dreams is screeching in my ear, so I do the only sensible thing and put the pedal to the metal.
We’re careening down the track, laughing as we take the first corner a little faster than Ricky advised.
I don’t care though, because the woman beside me is having the time of her life, and that’s really all that matters.
We’re weaving in and out of the lanes, wheels eating up the road as we take our first lap.
There’s a middle-aged couple in front of us in a blue car taking their sweet damn time like we’re all out for a Sunday drive, and there’s a couple of high school kids next to us crowding our space.
I’m keeping pace with them while simultaneously trying not to run anybody off the road.
I’m not tryna get kicked out of this place.
But, apparently, Viv is.
“You need to get the lead out, Carl!” she yells pointing ahead of us.
“Do you know him?” I ask, turning the wheel sharply to avoid the teenagers who really seem to be all up in our shit.
“No, but I’d bet my new bra collection that his name is Carl.”
I swear to god the guy turns his head toward us as we bolt forward and leave him in the dust. And I have to fucking gun it because the freaking high school kids are up so far up my ass that we nearly collide on the next turn.
I ease up just enough to let them through, but that’s got Viv raging next to me.
“That was a dirty fucking move,” she says. “You need to take them out, Mickey.”
“Uh, we’re not in a gangster movie,” I remind her.
“Yeah, well, they can still EAT SHIT!” she yells as we gain on them. The kid in the passenger seat turns back toward us and almost pisses his damn pants. Because yes, we absolutely are going to win this race. And also yes, my date is fucking hot.
I’m seconds away from taking the lead when the asshole teenager hits the brake.
Holy fuckballs. It’s a miracle we don’t go flying or that Ricky doesn’t flag him and shut the track down. Somehow, though, we manage to stay in one piece, but that doesn't do anything to calm Viv or her nerves. Or her sassy-as-hell mouth.
“Oh, that’s okay,” she yells in the direction of the teenagers. “A lot of people have trouble telling the gas from the brake before they’re old enough to fucking drive.”
They speed off around the track again, but I’m hot on their tail, partly because I want to hear what Viv’s gonna sling at them next. More cars join us on the track and I’m having way too much fun weaving in and out of lanes and satisfying my own need for speed.
There’s a guy I recognize from my Econ class last year and a pair of girls who only seem to be interested in pursuing one car: the teenage assholes.
Fucking great. We’re literally in the middle of a teenage romance right now, Not for long, though, because the guys slow down to look at their admirers, letting us slide right past them, and into first place.
Viv squealing’s like we’ve already won, and I’m just trying to keep my hands on the wheel even though she’s got both her arms hooked around my right one and she’s holding on for dear life.
She hollers, “Sucks to suck!” at some random car, but all I can do is laugh as I take the last turn and drive us across the finish line to victory.