Page 10 of Sin Bin Bully

I stand in the shower for what feels like forever, even after I’ve long been clean. My skin is bright red by the time I get out.

It’s probably a good thing I don’t have practice today. I can’t concentrate in that place- the place where I know I’ll see her. Where I’ve watched her for weeks now, barely able to peel my eyes away.

She knows I’m watching. I catch her watching me too. Yet, neither of us have said a word.

I smile to myself. It’s fun, this little game we’re playing. But it has to end soon.

I need her. I need her more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life. More than I needed to make my first NHL team. More than I needed to win my first Stanley Cup.

The difference is that with those, there was a clear path to success. A straight line, for the most part. Practice, get better, do your best. Play every game like it’s the most important one.

But with this, I don’t see a clear path. I don’t even seeapath. Because this isn’t just need, it’s obsession.

And the way I need her, I know it’s not normal. I want her as mine, but it’s more than that. I want to own her. I want her every second to be dedicated to me. Her every breath. I don’t want her to eat or sleep without thinking about me.

My breath comes faster just thinking about that. I envision her sitting on the ground in front of me, waiting patiently on her knees for my command.

No amount of hired lookalikes can satiate this hunger. I need the real thing.

“Sam?”

I freeze as I pull a shirt over my head.Fuck, I know that voice.

“Sam, are you home? I saw your car outside!”

I groan, flinging open my bedroom door and walking out into the hall. Her heels click on the marble floors as she saunters up to me.

“Mom, what are you doing here? I don’t remember inviting you.”

Her jaw drops, and she looks deeply offended.

“Is that any way to talk to your mother? I went through two whole days of labor for you. Everything you have is because of me. Do you think you’d even be where you are without my legacy?”

I roll my eyes. My mother thinks that because she was a silver screen actress back in the day, none of my success is my own. As if hockey fans give a fuck who my mother is.

I win games, and that’s all that matters. But trying to explain that to Emilia is pointless.

“I repeat, what are you doing here?”

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. A classic sign of her annoyance.

“You didn’t show up to your brother’s birthday party the other day, and you’ve been ignoring everyone’s phone calls. I haven’t heard from you in days, and your house staff says you’ve barely left your room all week. What’s going on, Sam? Are you getting burnt out?”

“Well, it looks like the house staff is getting fired.”

“Come on now, what kind of people would they be if they didn’t help out your poor mother? It’s not their fault.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine, mother. You really didn’t need to come here.”

“I did need to come here. You never do this. This isn’t like you. I had a perfect date set up for you for your brother’s party and everything. Imagine how embarrassed I was having to explain to her that you weren’t going to show.”

I let out a scoff. Of course she set up a date for me. No doubt, that’s why she’s really here. To yell at me for hurting her reputation.

My mother is always trying to set me up. Each girl is exactly the same. Blonde, beautiful, and utterly boring.

Nothing like Kim.

“You shouldn’t have done that. That isn’t my fault. Now please leave.”

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