The Hat Trick (ON HOLD AS OF 2/17/16)

Chapter Nineteen: Dill~Part One

OK! So, I suck. I've left you guys hanging for almost an entire month without a word of any kind and I'm sorry. Thus I suck. I'm relly sorry it's taken me so long to update, honestly guys this chapter just caused me immense annoyance and just GAH! I wanted to punch it sometimes, because I know where I want to go with the chapter, but my brain was moving faster than my creativity, if that makes sense? But, here it is. Chapter Nineteen. Yay! PS Think of this as like a two part chapter, this of course being part one. Thank you all again for the votes and reads, even though I kind of fell off the face of the earth, thank you.

After Dom dropped me off at my apartment I immediately went into action getting things ready for my date with Smalls. It didn’t take me long to change into the warmer attire I specifically told Smalls to wear. Every so often as I was gathering the items I needed for this non-traditional date together a twinge of guilt would stop me in my tracks. The thought that I was willing to lie to my best friend was front and center, taking over everything else. Dom had been so adamant about my not getting “serious” with Smalls. There’s nothing to get “serious” over, this entire date could blow up in my face and if it does I won’t feel any need to pursue her anymore and I’ll go back to putting hockey and the Cup before everything else. But that’s a big if, one that I need to see to the end before I just chock it up to wrong time wrong place. So, I pushed my argument with Dom to the farthest corner of my mind, needing to focus on the now and that was Smalls.

Not even fifteen minutes later and I was satisfied with getting everything together for this date. I was out the door bidding a ‘goodbye’ to Stanley, begging him not to get into the trash while I was gone and then promising him in the same breath that I’d take him for a long run tomorrow morning. I should have enough time for a short run before I hopped on a plane with the boys for the start of a three game road trip in five days. The first game was against our rivals the Chicago Chiefs on Tuesday, and then we fly out not hours later to Nashville to go against the Sabertooths on Thursday. Last but not least we head to Texas to play against the Houston Corsairs on Saturday. Then to round everything out we have our first back-to-back game, we fly from Houston to back home here in KC to go against the Minnesota Norsemen. Should be a fun road trip with the boys especially since we had the great start to the season against Detroit, but it’s best to not look to far ahead just focus solely on the next game in hand and go from there.   

I was out of my apartment building and walking through the parking garage looking for my Range Rover Sport glancing at my watch every couple seconds making sure that I was still good on time. I was currently on time which said a lot about me personally. Unless it’s something important like a mandatory practice, a practice skate on game-day or the game itself, I am not on time for anything. I couldn’t be on time to save my life, which is something the guys love to joke about. Unless it was important to me, I’d usually show up whenever I wanted to show up. This date with Smalls it’s extremely important that I be on time.

Tossing some of the key items to this date into the back end of my car I hurried around to the driver’s side already feeling like frostbite was settling into my fingers and nose. Sliding into the driver’s seat I put the key into the ignition and typed in her address right off the bat, blowing into my cupped hands I waited for the Garmin to figure out my location before settling in on the direction I needed to start heading.

“Lost satellite reception,” a woman with a robotic Australian accent replied, I cursed under my breath. I haven’t even pulled out onto the road and I wanted to punch Sheila, yes I did name my Garmin, so what? She gives me someone to yell at whenever I take the wrong exit.

“Alright, alright,” I grumbled putting the luxury SUV into drive and heading for the exit. While Sheila continued to look for her damn satellite I popped in Jason Aldean’s newest album hopping to drown her out as she continued to tell me that she couldn’t find a satellite if it fell down and landed on top of her. Exiting the parking garage Sheila finally got her bearings back and told me in her very posh like attitude that I needed to turn left on Market St. and take I-29N for fourteen miles. I looked at the dashboard clock and then up at the estimated time of arrival, I saw that as time to beat.