The Rebound (The New Jersey Storm #4)
Chapter 1
CARSON
I went from being one of the old married men on the team to hanging around with the young single guys.
I stand at a high-top table at the Village Castle, the air in the dance club tinted red from all the lights, the black ceiling glowing with electric blue “clouds” and tiny white “stars”, the dance floor packed while the DJ spins tunes.
I’m with teammates Mack (Macklin Murray), Trev (Trevin Watts), and Crusher (Nash Wilson).
Hockey players love their nicknames. Dilly (Dillon Landry) is off somewhere flirting with some women.
I was married for five years, but now I’m separated. Single and ready to mingle.
But… am I ready to mingle? I should be, dammit. It’s been almost a year since my wife and I split up. It’s time.
I hate it here.
It’s so loud in here, it’s hard to talk, and I’m not sure if I’m hearing right, but I think the other guys are talking about shrinking penises.
Fuck me.
I rub my forehead. “Whose penis is shrinking?” I ask against my better judgment.
They all give me offended looks.
“Nobody’s,” Mack says. “We were just discussing the possibility.”
“It can’t happen,” Crusher says.
“Hey, you would know, Alfie, if it happens with age,” Trev says to me with an inquiring look. Alfie being my nickname because of my last name, Alfredson.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
He laughs.
I’m thirty-one. Not old by any means. Except in the hockey world. Compared to these youngsters, I’m old, but dammit, I’m in my prime. They have a lot to learn.
“First of all,” I say, “size doesn’t matter.”
They all snort. I think. The music’s loud.
“Seriously,” I say. “It’s what you do with it that matters.”
“My grandpa used to say, ‘It’s not the size of the ship. It’s whether or not the captain stays in port long enough for all the passengers to get off.’” Mack smirks.
I grin. “Good one.”
“I tried to measure my dick once,” Crusher says. “But the ruler only went to twelve inches.”
They all crack up into laughter.
“It’s not the size of the baloney,” Trev says. “It’s the motion of the Zamboni.”
Mack lifts a hand to him and they high-five.
“Your dick doesn’t shrink,” I tell them. “But you can lose some, uh, girth as you age?”
“Are you speaking from experience?” Crusher asks.
I sigh. “No. But I’ve heard this. Age can cause a decline in testosterone production, and things like smoking damage the blood vessels and disrupt the flow of blood.”
“None of us smoke.” Mack shakes his head.
“Also cardiac disease, diabetes, thyroid issues… or obesity,” I add.
“I seriously want to know how you know this,” Trev says.
“He knows everything,” Crusher tells him. Trev is one of the newer members of the team.
“It’s true, man.” Mack nods. “If you need advice about anything, he’s your guy.”
“You guys have nothing to worry about,” I say, lifting my beer. “Not for a while, anyway.” I take a swallow.
I shift to look around at the club again and my eyes make contact with those of a woman standing at the next table. Very close to me. She’s smiling widely, blue eyes dancing.
“That was quite the conversation,” she says.
Fuck. “You could hear that?” I shake my head. “I could barely hear it.”
“Your hearing can deteriorate with old age, too.” She gives me an innocent look as her lips close around the straw of her cocktail.
My mouth nearly falls open, then I catch on. “Ha ha. Funny.”
She laughs and tosses back blonde hair. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She extends a hand. “I’m Emma.”
“Carson.” I shake her hand.
She’s pretty. Tall, slender, dressed in a low-cut top that shows off a great rack.
“You don’t look that old,” she assures me. Her eyes move over my torso. “You look like you’re in great shape.”
Uh. I think she’s flirting with me. It’s been so long, I don’t know what that is.
I remember the time in high school where the cute girl working at Tim’s always talked to me and smiled a lot, and one day told me that she got off work at eight, and I said, cool, I hope you get home safely, and the guys all dragged me for weeks because I didn’t realize she was flirting with me.
Things haven’t changed much in fifteen-ish years.
“Thanks,” I say, trying for suave. “You, too.”
She rolls her lips in on a smile. “Thanks. I guess that’s a better compliment than ‘I want to see you naked.’”
I choke on a laugh. “Jesus.”
Her gaze flicks down to my left hand holding my beer, then back up.
I stopped wearing my wedding ring a while ago. At first, after Ayla and I separated, I kept wearing it, because honestly, I still felt married. But it’s been almost a year now.
Technically, I am still married. We can’t get a divorce until we’ve been separated a year. Does that mean I shouldn’t be talking to this woman? Noticing her tits? Laughing at her jokes?
I glance over at my hockey buddies, and yeah, they’re all watching us. Crusher gives me a subtle thumbs up.
Fuck. I’m the one who gives advice. But right now, I have no idea what I’m doing.
Shit, I really do need to get on with my life.
I haven’t been with a woman for months. So I thrash about in my brain for something to say, and come up with, “Well, I’m sure you look good naked.
” I immediately close my eyes as heat rushes up into my face. “I did not just say that,” I mutter.
She laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I drain my beer in a succession of huge swallows.
“Can I buy you another drink?” she asks, tilting her head in a cute way.
Another fucking loaded question. I glance at Crusher again and he jerks his head in a yes, do it! way.
“Sure.”
We make our way to the bar where we order another beer and another sea breeze.
“What’s in a sea breeze?” I ask.
She faces me, elbow on the bar. “Vodka, cranberry juice, and grapefruit juice.”
Ayla would like that. She likes fruity cocktails.
Jesus. Don’t think about your ex-wife when a beautiful woman is buying you a drink.
“Sounds good.”
I manage to keep a somewhat coherent conversation going for a while until Emma’s friends come to tell her they’re leaving.
Looking disappointed, she says to me, “I have to go, too.”
“Okay.”
“I’d love to see you again.”
I blink. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”
She smiles at me, waiting.
“Oh! Should I give you my number? Or you give me yours?”
“Give me yours,” she says confidently. She pulls out her phone and enters the number I give her.
Should I be doing this? Giving out my number? I am such a pig’s breakfast. I have no game whatsoever.
She kisses my cheek, which is very sweet. “Bye, Carson. It was nice meeting you.”
I watch her leave with her friends, admiring her shape in the sparkly blue top and short black skirt. Then I give my head a shake and make my way back to the table where the guys are.
They’ve been joined by three women since I left.
“I’m outta here,” I tell Mack, moving up beside him.
He smirks knowingly. “Going home with that blonde?”
I frown. “No.” I pause. “But she has my number.”
“Hell yeah!” He lifts his arm and I unenthusiastically smack his hand. “Alfie’s back in the game, gentlemen!”
I wince.
“Are you gonna see her again?” Crusher asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. She’ll probably never call. And I don’t know…”
Trev claps a hand on my shoulder. “She’ll call. And you’ll say yes. It’s time. Back in the saddle and all that shit.”
“Yee haw,” Mack says.
I frown.
Crusher nods. “Do it! You got this.”
I’m not so sure of that.
* * *
Emma does text me the next day, but she doesn’t ask me out.
Emma
It was fun talking to you last night.
I read that about ten times. Then I slowly text her back.
Carson
Yeah, same. Thanks for the drink.
Okay. Should I ask her out?
She was pretty and funny and smart, but… I don’t know.
The next day, though, she texts again.
Emma
I have to go to an art gallery opening on Thursday. Would you like to come with me?
I’m not into art galleries. Or art. I like sports and documentaries about guys who live among grizzly bears.
Emma
There will be food and drinks
What the hell. We have a game tonight and Wednesday and then Friday, we head out on the road.
Carson
Yeah sure.
Emma
Great! Do you want to meet there?
Carson
Sounds good
She sends me the address of the gallery in Chelsea and we make arrangements for Thursday night.
I can’t believe it. I’m going on my first date in… a long time.