Page 75 of From Fling to Ring

He’s got me there.

I shrug. “Don’t know what this is, Coach. But I feel like crap.”

He looks at me for a moment, then pats me on the back. “Okay. Go shower up. But stick around. We have a few more videos to watch.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

I don’t remember ever wanting to leave the ice as fast as I do right now. Half-guilty, half-relieved, I skate off. Once in the locker room, I shed my practice clothes like they’re strangling me and head straight for the shower.

The hot water stings as I stand under its punishing stream, and I’m grateful for some time to myself. I lean onto the tile wall and let the jets pound my back as if they’ll bring about some sort of atonement, although I know I’m not the only one who’s fucked up here. I clench my fists until they hurt, and the hurt feels good.

I can’t lie. I’m blown away.

I was dating an awesome woman who was using me. Using me.

It’s not like I haven’t been used before. When you’re a pro athlete and making shit tons of money, the users come out of the woodwork, whether they’re women, distant relatives, neighbors, or people looking for investors for their ‘next big thing’. Hell, even my building’s janitor hit me up for cash once.

But Lucy. I didn’t see it coming. Not for one second.

I thought she was so different.

And I was so wrong.

Not that I’m any better. No, I am certainly not. In fact, maybe I’m even worse. Lucy’s doing what she has to in order to earn a living.

I’ve been playing my game out of not much more than pig-headed entertainment.

There’s something redeemable in Lucy’s approach. Not so much for mine.

That’s doubly torturous, because that means I’m as big a bastard as anyone else out there.

And to think I was falling for her.

I was. I really was. Fuck, I was even trying to figure out a conversation about ‘taking it to the next level.’ Whatever that means.

I pound my fist on the tile wall, which is fucking stupid because my hand will break before the tile does, but I think what’s really breaking is my heart, as cheesy and embarrassing as it is to say it.

Things are over with Lucy before they even really got started.

I was going to blow off the stupid ninety-day bet. Tell the guys they could go suck it. Although I will miss them skating around the rink in tutus.

I really saw a future with Lucy. A happy future. My family loves her. My friends love her.

I love her.

And she couldn’t give a shit about me.

She’s texted me about ten times since I left her place with my fake headache. I haven’t responded once.

“Yo, Ty, you spanking the monkey over there?” Rake yells as he joins me in the shower.

“Oh hi,” I say, turning the water off. “I was just hoping… that the hot water would make me feel better.”

“You ate some bad sushi, huh? Coach told us. Man, that sucks, sick from bad seafood. Happens more than people know?—”

I wrap my towel around my waist and walk out of the showers while he continues talking. Dick move, I know, but I have to get the hell out of there.

I pull my clothes on while I’m still dripping wet, the other guys staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. Still, none of them says anything because it’s clear as day I’m fucked up. I leave my practice clothes on the floor where I undressed and drop my wet towel in the pile. Without even combing my hair, I grab my backpack and split.

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