Page 13 of The Game Changer

“A lot.” I chuckle, thinking back, probably five or six of them—some longer than others. “I swear, some of them only put the address down as a legal address but hardly ever lived here because they were always staying over with a girlfriend. We were always pretty protective of this place, not really having women over since it’s sometimes hard to determine what ones are just after us because of our job and who’s in it for the person under that public persona.”

“Is that hard to deal with?”

“In my early years, it was every young twenty-something single guy’s dream to have all these women throwing themselves at us every way we turned, but it also got old really quick. It only took me a season or so to pick the puck bunnies out from across the room. I won’t lie and tell you I never took what some were offering, but I quickly learned to be more selective in those I kept company with.”

“I can’t imagine throwing myself at a guy just because of his job,” Jill muses.

“Most of them are out there doing it to either have ‘bragging’ rights amongst their friends, or some do it for the wrong reasons, and that is to try and trap a guy with a kid, thinking that it will be a big payout. I’ve known a handful of guys that that’s happened to and now they’ve got kids in cities they only make it to a handful of nights a year and baby mamas with more drama than a sorority house. It’s sad because it’s the kid that suffers the most.”

“That is really shitty. Those poor kids.”

“Yep.”

“You aren’t one of those guys, are you? With a kid in another city?” she asks, stopping to take a sip of her wine.

“Nope. No kids for me so far,” I tell her, taking a drink of my own glass.

“Do you want kids?” she asks.

“I’m not against having them, I’ve just never found someone I’d want to settle down with and start a family with. Hockey has always been my priority. Now with that coming to an end, I can see it possibly happening. Although, it will probably have to happen in the next couple of years or else, I’ll be the old dad.”

“I think biological clocks only pertain to women,” she teases me.

“In fertility, maybe, but I don’t want to be a new dad at fifty. As it is already, I’ll be closer to forty, most likely.”

“Forty is the new thirty,” Jill retorts.

“Maybe. But I also have to worry about what lasting effects my TBI will have on me. I wouldn’t want to subject my future wife and kids to a life filled with having to take care of me because things go badly.”

“But in reality, that isn’t something that you’ll ever know if it’s going to happen. So, if that’s your logic, you’d never be ready to start a family. You could have a stroke today and be one hundred percent dependent on someone else for the rest of your life, or you could live to be one hundred and still live on your own the entire time. None of us knows what life will bring us, so you can’t live your life in fear of the unknown.”

“I guess you’re right,” I tell her as I push my plate away. I’m very intrigued by the way she makes me think about things. Having someone as intelligent and determined as Jill in my life is something I could definitely get used to.

“This meal was amazing,” Jill tells me as she does the same. “I could have eaten that sauce on just about anything. You’ll have to share your recipe with me.”

“Maybe.” I wink at her. “It might cost you.”

“Is that so?” She bats her eyelashes at me before finishing off her wine. “What’s it going to cost me?”

“I could think of a thing or two.” I flirt with her and realize that it has been a long-ass time since I’ve flirted with someone, and damn does it feel good.

“I’m sure you could,” she drawls.

“Would you like a refill on your wine?” I ask as I stand, taking the plates with me to the kitchen.

“I guess I can have one more glass, any more than that, and I won’t be able to drive home.”

“You can always stay here,” I call out and then realize just how that sounded. “Not that I expect you to do that,” I add, hoping that I’m not making a complete ass of myself.

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