When I walk into the front of the house I share with a few of my friends and teammates, my best friend, Dylan, is on the couch heavily making out with his girlfriend, Ruby. At the sound of the door closing, they separate and Dylan isn't phased by the fact that I caught them.
"Get a room guys."
Dylan snorts, "Shut up, this is a room. Where have you been?"
I set my backpack down and flop into one of the armchairs, my brain swimming from all the information it tried to absorb during my study session with Alondra. Ruby sighs, realizing that I'm here to stay and moves off of Dylan's lap and into the spot next to him, her cheeks flushed. "It's Thursday, I had a tutoring session with Alondra."
His mouth quirks up into a smirk, "Right. Coach's daughter."
"Jack is that really a good idea?" Ruby asks, pulling her hair back into a ponytail at the same time.
"I don't know. Is it a good idea to dry hump your boyfriend in our living room when his bedroom is right upstairs?" I say, my voice thick with sarcasm. She rolls her eyes in response and I grin. "Exactly. She might be Coach's daughter, but she's smart as a whip. I'd be dumber than I already am to not have Al tutor me."
She's also hot as fuck and I have a hard time focusing on what she's saying because I keep getting distracted by her full lips and remembering what it felt like kissing them.
"I think you're a fucking idiot for having Coach's daughter tutor you; I'm not wrong when I say you can't keep your dick in your pants." Dylan muses and Ruby hits his chest.
"Do you have to say it like that?"
He laughs and gives me a pointed look before refocusing his attention on Ruby. "Jack is literally asking for trouble and I have to try to get through to him. He might have taken too many blows to the head though."
"Screw you, they'd have to be fast enough to catch me," I snort, running a hand through my hair. "There's nothing to get through my head. Al has zero interest in anything more than a tutor and a...tutoree relationship. Fuck. Whatever you want to call it. She wants nothing to do with me."
Ruby looks at me skeptically, "And what do you want to do with her?"
Well for one I'd love to find out how she is in bed. But I also know I can't go there. "I want to pass this stupid class." I do. I really do. This class is potentially going to stand in the way of me and the draft if I can't play this season; I can't let it get to that point. Hence the early intervention by asking for Al's help a month into classes starting. Last year I struggled more than I'd like to admit and I don't want to let anyone down.
Tonight was our second tutoring session and I don't think I've ever had to work this hard to get someone to like me. I'd gotten Pritchett's number after the first one and she told me how Al likes her coffee so I brought it to class today. Barely got a smile.
I can't figure her out.
It's frustrating but also intriguing.
A part of me enjoys the fact that she isn't fawning over me like most of the girls I meet. It's refreshing. I just have to find some way to push our kiss to the back of my mind. She's stubborn insisting that it was only a three, even though she told me it was better than that. Alondra refuses to admit what she actually rated it. She might be able to keep her face neutral, but the way her breathing hitches whenever I lean over to look at her text book tells me that I wasn't imagining the spark between us at the bar. It felt the same way for her as it did for me.
And how did it make me feel?
No fucking idea which is confusing the hell out of me.
I was going to leave Alondra alone after I found out who she really was, but then I walked into class and saw her sitting with her friend. Before I knew what I was doing, I was sitting next to her.
I did want an explanation for why she lied, but I also know I can't fault her for not telling me exactly who her father is. It's not as if I openly share that information myself.
I don't know what's gotten into me? First I asked for her number at the bar which I never do. Second, I practically had to hound this girl to spend time with me. Usually they're throwing themselves at me, not the other way around.
What I really don't understand is why Alondra thinks she would be in trouble if Coach finds out about the kiss. My ass would be the one on the line. I almost shit my pants with the way Coach was looking at me when I caught her in the doorway.
However, my fear of failing that class again trumps the fear of Coach for the time being.
A pillow hits me in the face and I'm momentarily stunned. "What the hell was that for?" I ask Dylan as Ruby tries to hide her giggles from me.
"Because I was trying to talk to you but you were off in la la land. Were you thinking about your little freshie?" He taunts and I flip him off.
"No, I was thinking about your mom."
Our other roommate walks in the front door, dropping her heels next to the shoe rack instead of putting them on it. Peyton's mini skirt is so short I'm surprised it's even covering anything. "Who's mom are we talking about?"
I look at my watch, surprised to see that it's only ten. Usually when she goes out she isn't getting back in until at least midnight regardless of if it's a weeknight or a weekend. "Dylan's."
Her face scrunches up, "Why are we talking about his mom? Yours is hotter."
I shake my head, chuckling softly. "Gross Peyton. That's my mom."
My momma is younger than Dylan's. She had me right after her eighteenth birthday.
"He's a little testy because we were discussing his tutoring relationship with Coach's daughter," Dylan points out, shooting me a knowing look that he doesn't buy it.
Peyton plops down on top of me, catching me by surprise and I grunt as she gets herself into a comfortable position. "Oh the freshman?"
I roll my eyes, "She has a name."
"Yeah, one she didn't tell you," Ruby snorts and I glare at Dylan because he wasn't supposed to tell her that. He puts his hands up in defense as Peyton rests her head on my shoulder. I catch a whiff of weed and alcohol that she clearly tried to hide with her perfume.
When she moved in with us last year, I confided in her about why I don't do any of the shit normal college kids like to do. Peyton then decided she wouldn't drink or do drugs in front of me; not that I really care. Just because I don't do that shit doesn't mean she can't. It's a personal preference, but it's her way of showing she cares and respects my decision not to.
"You guys are insufferable."
"Find new friends then, I think I'm pretty awesome," Peyton says. I notice her skirt has ridden up and I tug it down into place, not that it makes much of a difference.
Ruby smiles, "I don't think he'd have a problem with that. Everyone wants to be Jack's friend."
Dylan gives her a weird look, "Depends what your definition of friend is. Girls want Jack to be their boyfriend or fuck buddy, not their friend."
He's not lying. It should be flattering but sometimes I really hate it. Probably doesn't help that I play into it when I'm out with the team and my friends.
"I'm Jack's friend," Peyton says and my mouth quirks up into a smile. She's an exception.
"You're also gay so I don't think it counts the same way as a straight girl being friends with him."
"Ruby's my friend and she's straight," I retort quickly and she laughs.
"Definitely straight but I'm kinda forced to be your friend because Dylan's your best friend. Technically, yes Jack, I am your friend."
I stick my tongue out at Dylan, "Suck it."
This is like deja vu of the conversation Al and I had Tuesday night. She seemed so sure that I didn't have any girl friends.
The conversation continues in an easy banter, hockey slowly taking over the conversation. At some point Peyton drifts off to sleep on my shoulder and Ruby is heading in that direction herself. Our other roommate Coop is probably hanging out at the frat he belongs to, sometimes he just crashes there so it's not unusual for him to not come home.
I'm about to call it a night so I can put Peyton into her room before crashing in my own when Dylan clears his throat, catching my attention. "Do you think tutoring is actually going to help?"
"It can't hurt. I have a test in two weeks so we'll see how that goes and then I'll have an answer for you."
He still looks a little skeptical. "Just be careful Jack."
I grin confidently at me so he can't see the turmoil in my head. "When am I not careful?"
The answer to that is never.
*********
I get to morning skate earlier than I was supposed to. Dylan was still sleeping when I left at four thirty. I couldn't sleep last night after going to bed. Being on the ice should help. Out here I feel like I'm flying and like anything is possible.
It gives me a chance to forget how chaotic my life is off the ice. It feels like the only place I can breathe. All the shit just turns to background fuzziness the second my skates hit the smooth surface, reflecting like the overhead lights like glass. After a few laps, the only thing I'm aware of is the sound of the sharp blades gliding.
If they let me live here, I don't think I'd ever leave the ice. It's my safe place and always has been.
There's something intoxicating about hockey. Once I started, I never wanted to do anything else. Texas is football country and I didn't care for it. I played because it made my momma happy, but my heart was in hockey and she knew that.
Coach recruited me my junior year and I almost turned down the offer because I didn't want to leave Momma by herself. I wanted to stay close to home and while Minnesota's program is one of the best in the country, it's just so far away from home.
She called Coach and told him I was taking the scholarship and position he offered me after I told her the real reason why I didn't want to accept. Mom was insistent that I wasn't going to lose this opportunity because of her. I still had to take out some loans, but once I sign to a team I'll have no problem paying those off.
I'm a momma's boy. No point in denying it. We've always been close.
I haven't talked to her in a few days so I'll probably call her after class today.
I focus on the goal and practice my slap shots before switching to work on my wrist shots. Practice makes perfect and I need to prove that the team did the right thing putting their faith in me as team captain. Last year we made it to the Frozen Four before losing to Michigan in the semi-finals.
The team lost a couple of great players last year, some to the draft and some to graduation, but we have a freshman that has potential to be good. Thankfully we still have Coop who was going to enter the draft last year, but decided he wanted his degree like me. With him in the goal, we should be set. Dylan has been working with one of the sophomore defenders to help strengthen their line. Everyone wants to win this year. Preseason exhibition games don't start for another month and a half. For now it's just been morning skate three days a week for an hour and a half, weights the other two mornings of the week, and then practice in the afternoon every day.
It's intense, but everyone is throwing themselves headfirst into it.
None more than me.
Alondra as anything more than a friend is a distraction I don't need or want. And I do want her to be my friend. She's kinda funny and sassy. I like that she doesn't beat around the bush, getting straight to the point. I'm too stubborn to let her go now.
Don't even get me started on when we were sitting in Calc together yesterday and she leans forward to take notes and I caught a glimpse down her shirt. That's all I could think about during our tutor session last night. You'd think that I'd never seen a pair of boobs before. I wish someone could tell my dick who is constantly sporting a semi every time I think about her to chill the fuck out. It's making it a little harder than normal to focus on the numbers and graphs I'm supposed to be learning about.
This is why I don't have girls who are friends.
I just need to get her out of my head. It's not going to happen between us. She has made it crystal clear she isn't interested, regardless of her physical reactions to being around me. I could be reading into it too much. Besides, Alondra seems like the kind of girl who needs a relationship, not a hookup. Hooking up is all I can promise. Kind of hard to consider more when you don't believe in love. I don't make promises I can't keep because I've had too many promises broken.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts, taking my frustration out on the puck, sending it flying into the back corner of the net.
Again.
And again.
And again.