Miles Dempsey
"Ah, fuckkkk. That feels so fucking good."
My heavy eyes open and I turn my head over to glance at my teammate. His arms hang over the rim of the metal bathtub he's in, his body dipped into the colder than Antarctica water. I can't even feel any of my limbs from how long I've been in here. I look over at the small stopwatch that sits atop a white bucket.
1:37 left to go.
"Hey, you coming out with us tonight?" he asks, catching my attention. A small wince leaves his lips as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can't," I reply, tapping my fingers against the outside of the tub. My fingers slipping because of the condensation. "Why?" JT frowns. "I guess I can't go either." He frowns even harder.
I roll my eyes slightly. "You're going. I need the house tonight," I tell him. He turns to look at me for a long moment, but realization strikes him. A goofy smirk tugs onto his lips. "Oooooh. You're having Allie over, eh?" I try not to amuse my roommate even more by smiling, though it's hard not to around him.
Jason Tayler or JT has been my roommate for about four months now. The Kings drafted him from his pro team up in Vancouver. He didn't have anywhere to live down here in LA, so I offered to house the eighteen year old for as long as he needed. Our captain, Drew Anderson, did the same for me six years ago when I first came down to the States. I thought I'd take the kid in this time. After all, I was his biggest inspiration.
Those were his first words to me when we met. He was a fanboy.
I don't mind having him around, really. We get along great and I kind of missed having a roommate which I hadn't had since college. It only gets tough in times when I want to have a girl over. I would have gone out with guys tonight if Allie hadn't been so adamant about seeing me. It's been a while and since the kids going to be out anyway, I thought why not?
"I'll have Tate pick you up," is all I say. JT doesn't have a car yet and as much as I love him, I would never lend him any of mine. The timer interrupts him and I lean over to switch it off. I rise from the tub, my legs and torso red from the cold water. "He won't mind?" JT questions. I shake my head and grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist. "No. You're just gonna third wheel a bit." I grin.
JT groans. At the water or at my comment, I don't know. "They won't be like that all night, right?" he asks. I laugh. "You'll be with the other guys at the bar, I'm sure you'll get rid of Tate and Kaitlyn then." Tate is my best friend. Not only did we play hockey together at Harvard, but he was also my roommate. We both got drafted by the Kings after only a year in college. I never thought he'd settle down before me but I want to slap him across the face every time I see how smitten he is with his girlfriend.
Kaitlyn has always been Tate's girl but she didn't actually become his girl until a couple of months ago. It's a complicated one.
"Hopefully. I can't stand people being in love, bleh." He fakes a gag and I smile. "Once you fall in love, you won't be talking that smack, kid," I say like I've actually ever been in love. I haven't. JT makes a face. "That'll never happen. You know I've never met a girl my whole life that I've been genuinely interested in?" he tells me. I tuck my lips between my mouth to hold back a laugh.
"You might have to start considering another option then," I say, grabbing my junk over my towel. His forest green eyes widen like saucers. "Fuck no! I'm not gay! I worded that wrong." He frowns. I laugh, shaking my head. I'm just teasing him. I know he likes women, he's just not a man yet. He gets shy around pretty girls and can't flirt with one to save his life. I've seen it firsthand. "These girls just want one thing so I give it to them and then they scurry. I'm fine with that. I'm too busy for a relationship anyway."
Me and him both. Not that I want one anyway. I don't even remember the last time I had a girlfriend. I think it might have been Priscilla Monroe back in junior year of high school. She was fun. For a short time anyway.
"You focus on school and hockey, kid. Women are complicated, trust." JT shoots me a look like I know. "I'll catch you later and I'll make sure to let Tate know about tonight," I tell him. He gives me a short thumbs up, holding his body up with his forearms on the tub. I exit the room and make my way back to the locker room.
Just when I finish changing into comfortable clothes, my phone rings in my locker. I pick it up seeing the text from Allie.
Allie: don't ditch me, asshole.
I smile.
Miles: I wouldn't dream of it, gorgeous.
Allie: that's what i thought.
I let out a low chuckle and shove my phone into my pocket. Having a no-strings attached relationship is fun. Especially with a girl like Allie. She gets me. I get her. We both only want and expect one thing from our nights together. She's never pushed me for anything more and vice versa. It's hard to find that nowadays so I'd say I scored. It doesn't hurt that she's my type to a T either. Curvy, brunette, dark eyes. She's unreal.
When I finish gathering my things, I walk over to Tate's locker. He sits down inside of it, only wearing black boxers as he types away on his phone. "Hey, man," I say, getting his attention. His blue eyes shoot up at me. "Yeah?" He doesn't keep his gaze on me too long. "Can you pick up JT tonight? He needs a ride to Dez's tonight." He furrows his dark brows and looks up at me again. "You can't take him?"
"I'm skipping. Allie's coming over tonight." I won't lie to him about that. He smiles slightly. "Yeah. Okay. I got the kid," he says, slapping my leg lightly. "See you tomorrow." I return the greeting and say goodbyes to the rest of my teammates before leaving the facility. It's inching four in the afternoon but my eyes already feel heavy. I've been up since four thirty in the morning. There was no reason for me to be up that early but I've gotten so used to doing it that it's just a routine now.
I might have to pick up the house a bit once I get home so I don't think I'll be able to get a nap in before Allie comes over later on.
JT got home about an hour after I did since he had to stay back for a meeting with Coach Thomas and the rest of the first year guys. He took a nap while I did the cleaning. I don't mind it, I'm used to it. I feel like the kid's dad even though I'm only six years older than him. He could be a lot messier. Thank God he's not.
The doorbell rings around eight and JT answers it since he's closer in the living room. "Hi, Jason," Allie says. I roll my eyes as I step into the large open floor living room. A light blush creeps onto my roommate's cheeks. "Come in, Allie," he stutters, stepping back for her to come in. Her dark brown eyes never leave him as she walks in until she notices me and her smile drops. You would think she hated me with that look.
Allie looks me up and down. "You're wearing that?" She makes a face. I look down at my gray sweats and vintage t-shirt. The fuck is wrong with it? I look back up at her, realizing she's dressed up head to toe. Her hair is pinned up pretty, she has on a good amount of makeup, a brown two-piece hugs her curves, and matching brown heels sit under her feet. A phone rings, distracting all of us. "Oh, that's me. See you guys, later," JT says, not even answering the call and slipping out the front door.
The brunette quirks a brow at me. "We're going out?" I question. "No shit. I'm not staying home again. Your bed will still be there when we get home," she says. I wasn't planning on going out tonight. I didn't want to go out. Not with her. I make a face, showing just that, but she doesn't flinch. She doesn't care, I realize. I internally groan. "Give me a minute," I tell her. She shoos me upstairs and walks over to my kitchen.
I can't fucking believe I'm going out with her. I try to avoid it as much as possible because of all the rumors that start floating around. There's always a camera around if any of us go out. Especially with a woman. It's why I like to keep my private life low-key. With the media being the way it is these days, it's hard to keep things a secret. I like keeping things to myself. Taking Allie out will always have people thinking she's my girlfriend when she's not.
It's not the first time I've taken her out but other times it was a group setting. No one really assumes anything when we're together with other people but this is the first time it'll be only the both of us. I will have people by the neck if they even decide to get in my face with a camera tonight.
I pick out a reasonable outfit, throwing on a Los Angeles Dodgers cap over my messy hair. It only takes us about twenty minutes to make it to the bar Allie wanted to go to tonight. I hadn't seen anyone recording us yet which was the only good thing so far. I order a Budweiser and Allie gets herself BudLight.
I look around the bar we're at shortly. Multiple flat-screen TVs sit above tables and booths playing the most recent NFL, NHL, NBA, and MLB games. The bar towards the front is almost packed. . . with college kids. There's a small part of the floor that's empty for people to dance and a small stage in the corner, currently empty. We're at a college bar, I presume.
"Place is full of college kids," I say, sipping my beer as Allie's more entertained on her phone. She looks up at me, setting the thing down. "You were a college kid once," she says condescendingly. I roll my eyes. "Like three fucking years ago. Five if you want to count the last time I was on a college campus around college students," I retort. After I got drafted, I finished my degree online. I graduated about three years ago with a bachelor's in kinesiology.
"Stop being a baby, Miles. This place is great," Allie says, taking a long sip from her beer. Nothing here is great. I'm glad I haven't been recognized yet, that's the only great thing about this place. I ignore her again, sighing as my eyes flit around the bar.
I do a double take to the far end of the bar, damn near giving me whiplash. Medium-length blonde hair cascades down her back. A white tube top and jeans cover her body, heels on her feet. She doubles over in laughter at something the person next to her says, taking a long sip of her red drink afterward. I guess I was wrong. Something here is great.
My tongue wets my lips which are dry all of a sudden. I glance back at the girl in front of me. "I'm gonna use the restroom," I tell Allie. She glances up at me from her phone and nods. I don't waste another second, walking with my head down towards the bar - more specifically, the girl.
As I go unnoticed, I flag down a bartender and order another beer even if I have a full one back at the table. Luckily, the guy who sits next to the blonde leaves. I steal his spot quickly but she doesn't notice me immediately, still in conversation with her friend. She whips her hair behind her shoulder, the smell of strawberry hitting my nostrils. I don't want to like her, but I can't help the instant attraction and pull I felt toward the girl.
It was unearthly. Like something I never fucking experienced. I hated it.
"Here's your beer." The redhead behind the counter slides the mug close to me with a wink before she leaves. As if the bartender was talking to her, the cute blonde next to me slowly turns on her barstool. Her deep blues hit mine in an instant and her face drops. I almost laugh. So she remembers me.
"Not you," she almost growls. I can't help the way my lips quirk up. "Me," I say amused. "Are you stalking me?" she questions, most likely serious. I snort, looking her up and down. "You're not that interesting to look at for more than a couple of seconds, no. I didn't even know you were you until you looked at me just now," I lie. All of that was a big lie. She actually laughs, but I know it's fake. "Saw your game Sunday. How'd it feel to win?" she bites back.
My jaw tightens with her remark. I should have seen that one coming. The first time I met this little blonde, she made it apparent that Anaheim was her hockey team, not the Kings. We lost that game against the Ducks. The one she said we'd lose last Sunday. I didn't think I'd see her ever again so I wasn't really worried about her throwing it in my face.
A smirk tugs on her glossed lips. I hide all expressions from my face quickly, shrugging. "It's one game." She looks at me like I'm stupid. I feel it. "It's okay, Miles. Not everyone's good at the sport they play," she says. She remembered my name. "Right. Wait, catch me up? You're only on a local figure skating team, right? Not a professional one?" I lift an eyebrow up at her. Her cheeks flush a light pink and I don't miss the tiny flair of her nostrils.
"I must have also forgotten I play for the NHL," I add. "Anyone can play hockey," she says quickly. "Like you said." I fake laugh. I did say that, but I didn't mean it in that way. "Anyone can figure skate," I retort. She laughs this time. "I'd love to see you try, dude." Her dark blue eyes size me up. At 6'3 and two hundred thirty pounds, I might be a little too big to be a figure skater.
"Let's do it," I challenge. "Me and you one and one in a hockey match and I'll try your little twirls and shit." Her eyes narrow at my words but she pushes her shoulders back and nods. "Just don't cry when I beat you at your own sport." It's my turn to size her up, but not in the way I was earlier. She can't be any taller than 5'5 and she's definitely not over 150 pounds. I'm sure we both know we can't play each other's sports.
Yet, I don't think she'll back down. And neither will I.
"Blazing Ice. Sunday?" I ask. She smiles sweetly but I can tell it's fake. "I'll see you there."
This is going to be fun. For me, at least.