FUNNY GUYS
ANDERS
Five Months Back
I don’t know how I always get roped into these kinds of things.
Aviva’s boyfriend was drafted to the fucking Sentinels of all teams, so now she’s fully embracing her newfound WAG status and dragging me down with her.
There’s a bunch of mats that span the length of the rink, making it easier to walk across the ice without slipping. Around us, dozens of small kids weave in and out of each other, cutting the ice in their little skates.
“I regret my choice in outfit,” Aviva complains, pulling down her plain white baby tee that keeps riding up her hourglass figure.
“I don’t know why you didn’t just wear Cal’s jersey,” I point out.
“Because WAGs don’t wear their partner’s jerseys,” she mutters. “That’s like going to visit your man who works at Starbucks in your own little green apron.”
I snort. “I guess that’s true.”
“And besides…” she sighs. “I don’t want to rub it in your face that my man is in the NHL and yours isn’t.”
“He’s not my man, Aves,” I roll my eyes. I flick my gaze in the direction of Seth and his roommate, Connor.
I didn’t even think it was possible for frat guys to be bi, but Seth is, like, the epitome of a bi frat guy. In other words—he’s a man-whore. Sleeps with everyone. No matter which parts they have down there.
Connor, unfortunately, is painfully straight. He’s dating some chick named Abigail who has big tits and an even bigger ass. She’s gorgeous, by the way, but the man couldn’t be any more obvious about his intentions.
“He’s not my man.”
Aviva tilts her head down and lifts a brow. “Didn’t he fuck you last night?”
“That’s…not important…”
“Anders, babe,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I know you’ve got this hopeless little crush on you know who, but that doesn’t mean you should be holding yourself back from having a bit of fun.”
I know. Obviously I know that. But I can’t help it.
Parker and I are friends. That’s it. Nothing more than two people who have known each other a very long time.
He has me over for dinner sometimes to catch up on life.
I call him sometimes when I’m at the store and feel awkward walking around in there alone.
And there’s been a few nights where I’ve had too much to drink and he’s insistent on me keeping him on the phone until I’ve gotten home safe.
There’s nothing inherently weird about that.
I do the same exact things with all my other friends.
The only difference, though, is that Parker and I have the kind of history that stands better as something unspoken rather than something that’s made known to other people.
A mutual feeling between the two of us that lives and breathes as its own, but bringing it to fruition is a whole different story.
It’s the definition of complicated.
“I am having fun,” I argue. “Look. We’re here—fun. So fun.”
“You look miserable.”
“I’m hungover.”
“You never get hungover.”
“Okay, stop clocking my shit,” I groan.
She gives me a look, pursing her lips and shaking her head a little.
“I’m gonna go talk to Seth,” I mutter.
Her mouth pulls into a satisfied grin. “Thank you.”
I manage my way over to the other side of the ice, dodging little kids in tiny Sentinels jerseys and nearly tripping on a little girl using a walker.
Seth watches the entire thing, still dying of laughter as I approach.
“It’s not that funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” he snorts.
“It’s really fucking funny,” Connor retorts.
Seth backhands Connor on his arm. “No bad words. The place is swarming with kids.”
“You’re the one who dragged me here at eight in the morning to volunteer,” Connor mutters.
“I’m giving it my best.” He scratches the back of his buzzed head, dragging his eyes from one side of the rink to another.
“When the hell is the team supposed to come out anyway? Aren’t they the ones who are supposed to be teaching these kids how to swing their little sticks and shit? ”
A little boy with his arm thrown around the shoulder of a small girl immediately starts laughing at Connor as they skate by.
“Dude,” Seth chastises him. “Kids, man. Mind your mouth.”
“It’s fine,” Connor scoffs. “I’m sure these little foster kids are used to hearing a few bad words.”
“That sounds a little offensive,” I say.
He shakes his head. “As a former foster kid, I know first hand what these little shits are exposed to.”
Seth gives Connor an empathetic look, patting him on the back. “You’re right,” he says solemnly. But then his mouth slowly pulls into a loose grin. “No wonder our parents didn’t want to adopt you.”
They both break out into laughter as I watch with amusement.
I don’t know much about their little situation, but I do know Connor and Seth grew up together. Seth’s family fostered Connor and his little sister, I think.
“Let me clarify,” Seth turns to me. “Connie is very loved and has a very loving family.”
“Fake family,” Connor jokes. “Too bad I aged out before they could make it official.”
“Cass is the one they really wanted,” Seth shrugs. “They always wanted a girl.”
“I’m deeply invested in this lore right now,” I tell them.
Seth slugs his arm around my shoulder, though it’s a little awkward considering the three inches I have on him.
“After this, I’ll buy you a beer and tell you my life story.”
“He doesn’t care about your life story,” Connor laughs. “I’m the interesting one.”
Seth tuts. “You were a juvenile delinquent who only found a home because we were paired up as study buddies freshman year of high school.”
Connor gives him a bewildered look, mouth curling into a half-smirk. “I’m about to fuck you up—”
Music starts blasting from the speakers, gathering everyone’s attention.
The lights dim, the ice becoming illuminated by the flashing strobe lights descending down from the ceiling.
Someone announces the team’s arrival over the loud speaker.
A few seconds later, massive hockey players make their grand entrance through the tunnel.
The kids around us all start to scream with excitement.
“This is so fucking cool,” Seth mutters lowly, leaning in close. “I can’t believe you know Parker Morozov.”
“Just wait until I tell you who my brother is,” I snort.
I can see the gears turning in Seth’s head. After a second, his jaw drops. “Dude. No fucking way…”
“Yep,” I nod. “How many de Sousas do you know?”
He shrugs. “Just you and him. Woah, man—you guys are, like, twins now that I’m seeing it.”
“Everyone says that,” I chuckle. “He’s my half-brother, though. Same mom.”
“But you share a last name?” he asks curiously.
“My brother adopted me and had it changed,” is all I say.
Seth doesn’t press for an explanation. Connor gives me a look that only someone from a broken home could understand.
My body reacts before my mind catches up.
I see him across the ice, wearing the special red Sentinels charity jersey they always wear for this event.
As the rest of the team files into the rink, a few retired Sentinels skate in after.
The room fills with even more excitement, as if Gretzky himself is walking across the ice.
A few minutes later, volunteers are paired off with players.
Aviva and I stand on either side of Calvin Malloy.
Charlie makes an appearance for a brief moment to take a picture of her brother in his “cutesy little uniform” she calls it, before skating off to a different player she’s more interested in.
Gotta hand it to her—the girl is on the prowl.
“How does it feel?” I ask Malloy, rubbing my hands together and suddenly wishing I had gloves on. “Officially a rookie now.”
“It feels pretty sick not having to wear that annoying cage anymore.”
Aviva rolls her eyes. “If you break a tooth, I’m dumping you.”
He pretends to pout. “But you’re a WAG now. Told you I would make it happen, babe.”
“You’re right,” she sighs, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. “Thank you for making my dream come true. You know I’ve always wanted to be in a WAG groupchat.”
“Keep looking that pretty and I’ll put you on my health insurance,” Malloy grins.
She dramatically swoons. “That’s even better than a marriage proposal.”
“You guys are making me sick,” I groan. “Get your lovey-dovey mess out of my air space.”
An hour or so goes by and the once organized structure has turned into some sort of free skate meet and greet. We were originally supposed to teach the kids to skate and help them learn how to handle a stick, but the kids are more interested in talking to the players and asking them to race.
Seth makes his way over to me and gives me a suggestive look. “Wanna get out of here? Maybe go have some grown-up fun?”
The lighting in here somehow makes his blonde hair seem even blonder than usual. His blue eyes appear darker, but the shadows on his face are perfectly casted in the light.
“I could be convinced,” I smirk. “What do you have in mind?”
“Sex,” he mouths.
I immediately choke, folding over on myself. “You’re impossible,” I snort.
“I don’t beat around the bush,” he shrugs. “Convinced yet?”
“Only because I like funny guys,” I smirk. “Let me go tell Aviva—”
“Anderson.”
My stomach drops so hard at the sound of his voice that it feels like I missed a step on the staircase. And just like that, the rug has been pulled out beneath me. All of a sudden, nothing else matters in the room except for this one fucking person.
Fucking hell.
I turn around and force myself not to react when I see him skating up.
“There you are,” Parker smiles. “You didn’t tell me you were volunteering again this year.”
“I’m here to support Malloy,” I tell him. “And the kids, I guess. But Aviva dragged us here to watch her man in action.”
“Right,” Parker nods, not dropping his smile. But I can still notice the tiny shift in his expression. He turns his attention to Seth and extends his hand out. “Parker Morozov. Thanks for coming out.”