Evan sent me a text that night after the game. They lost to the Oilers, but his mood seemed upbeat, all things considered. He said he had a game Friday night and wanted to know if I wanted to come to it. That meant I would be leaving first thing in the morning to get back to Chicago in time to see the game. I wasn't flying. I wasn't sure I ever would. When I had left Oregon, I just got on a bus and went with it. Chicago was where I decided to stay. My reason for staying? The dance studio was there, but also because the Chicago Cubs were Andrew's favorite baseball team.
I sent Evan a text telling him I would love to see a home game, so he agreed to come get me in the morning and drive me back to Chicago. When he left me here a few days ago, he had left his car at the airport, so that made traveling a little easier.
Lying there in his bed again that night, I thought about asking Evan if I could stay with him at his apartment. I liked it here, but it felt weird. I missed Evan.
I wasn't sure what I wanted to do now that I was out of the hospital. I didn't have to worry about all those medical bills because Evan graciously took care of them, but honestly, I kind of felt like I was his charity case.
I knew I wouldn't be able to be on my own just yet; just the thought of being alone right now gave me anxiety.
Going back to the dance studio wasn't what I wanted either.
What was my problem?
Honestly, I kind of missed Evan and being around him. I had no idea where things were going with him, but the sparks were there, and the warmth of his friendship was something I craved. It left me very confused.
Face off – This is the method of starting play. This is the dropping of the puck by the official between the sticks of two opposing players standing one stick length apart with stick blades flat on the ice. It's used to begin each period or to resume play when it has stopped for other reasons.
Before I was coherent that morning, I was hard, thoughts of Ami and those starry blue eyes, pink skin, freckled nose, and those adorably pouty lips filling my head. Fuck.
I had no idea what time it was and didn't really care. She was in my thoughts. Turning to the side, I peeked one eye open to see that the sun was rising over the city. Closing my eyelids tighter, I thought about how I teased Ami and the little sounds she made.
My heart beat faster. My hand went to my dick while my mind spun with want and heat and memories of her.
I thought about the first time I kissed her and the little moan she let out, like she'd been waiting on that fucking kiss her entire life, and I'm hard, so fucking hard. Aching, I closed my eyes tighter, thinking about starry blue and soft skin. I thought about what it would be like, what she would feel like clinging to me the first time. I think about her being mine.
I groaned and gripped hard, wanting her so fucking bad. I wanted her right here, right now, in this bed. Tightening my grip, I moved with intent…but…it was no use because once I saw those images, others flashed in my head, and I was reminded that I couldn't. I couldn't have her this way.
My stomach clenched, burned through the need to finish, but it vanished. I blinked, the memories gone.
Every morning was like that. I wanted her and those thoughts wouldn't leave, but it wasn't right.
Just thinking about why those thoughts weren't right, well, that led to me wanting to find the guy and beat the shit out of him because I couldn't have this perfect girl...because of him. I wanted to give the guy everything she went through.
The part that got me was her seeming so unfazed by it all, as though it didn't really happen. To be fair, in her mind it didn't happen. She remembered nothing.
Then I would get ahead of myself and think if she didn't remember, well then it would be okay to fall for her, right?
After practice Thursday morning, Leo and I were packing our skates and sticks. Without looking up, I turned slightly toward him. "Someone got pretty rough with Callie the other night," I told him, my voice barely above a whisper.
I hadn't told anyone, but Callie had come over to my place with a swollen right eye the other night when we got back from New York. She wanted to watch a movie. She never did say what happened, but after Ami, it didn't sit well with me.
Leo stopped for a moment, and without looking, he nodded and then we went back to what we were doing.
Though we knew Callie got around, there was an agreement between us: we looked out for her. Leo, Remy, and I, even Travis, we protected that girl and didn't appreciate someone getting rough when she didn't ask for it.
I knew Callie could take care of herself, too, but I felt Leo needed to know. He would never admit it, but Callie was the one girl he couldn't get his mind off of lately. They'd had a drunk encounter, maybe more than one, and she moved on. I think if Leo had his way, she'd still be in his bed.
I flew home to Pittsburgh that afternoon to see Ami with plans of bringing her back to Chicago.
Flying into the city, the skyline caught my eye. When I thought about Pittsburgh, I thought about my childhood, and when I thought about my childhood, street hockey, frozen hands, and red cheeks came to mind.
I thought about how I fell in love with the sport.