Page 8 of Anti Player

“I don’t have a side piece. I’ve just been chilling since the win,” I admit.

“I’ve been chilling too,” Aaron admits. “My body has been killing me.” He’s one of our goalies.

“I’ve also been exhausted,” I relay. “Playoffs were hard on my body.”

“I’m older than all you fuckers. You don’t hear me complaining,” Brett says.

“You aren’t complaining but it doesn’t mean you aren’t hurting. We all took some rough hits,” I remind him.

“True dat,” Matt says. “We earned that Cup. I’ve never played so hard in my life.”

“Tell me about it,” Brad agrees.

The server brings my large Cobb salad and my draft beer. Hanging with the guys and having time to chill feels great, only my mind keeps pulling me back to Maddie and her pretty blue eyes. She still has those soft freckles on her cheeks too. I blinkthe thought away, knowing how murderous Brett would be if he had access to my thoughts. We leave lunch and I head back home and watch some movies. Offseason is usually boring. I pick up my phone and text Taylor. She says she’s free tonight, so I ask her out for a cup of coffee. She may have different expectations, but I’m not up for clubbing or a wild night.

I head to my kitchen and open my fridge. I have an assistant who does my shopping and cooks my meals. I scratch the back of my head because my fridge is practically empty. How did I not notice this? I send my assistant a message and ask her if she was at my place earlier.

Sandra:Sorry, got food poisoning. Supposed to restock you today but couldn’t make it and was too sick to message you.

Me:No worries. Feel better.

I’m hungry and tired when I slip on my slides and walk over to Brett’s apartment. He must have some food. I go to open his door with my key because I usually just walk into his place when I need something, but I forgot I gave it to Maddie. Damn. I’m about to knock when the door swings open and Asher is standing there looking at me with a smile.

“Asher, get back in here and close the door,” Maddie says, running up to the door. She makes a full stop when she sees me, and I remember I am wearing a white wifebeater and basketball shorts.

“Kaleb?” she asks. I realize I’m staring because she is also in her comfortable clothes. Her hair is wet and falls in strands over her shoulders and she’s wearing a cropped gray T-shirt and shorts that look like they were once jogging pants that have been cut off—short.

I blink and get a grip before Brett catches me gawking at her. “Yeah, hi,” I mumble. “I didn’t have food in my fridge. Came to see what Brett has for dinner.”

“He had all kinds of meals prepped for him, but I cooked. Come in, there’s plenty of extras,” Maddie says, inviting me in. The smell of her cooking brings back one of the few good childhood memories I have. Maddie would love to prepare food and treats with her mom growing up and when I came over, I was her favorite taste tester. Probably how I came to love dessert so much, because she would spoil me with all the treats she made.

Brett comes to the door. “What up, bro?”

“Got no food in my fridge,” I say to my friend, trying to get my feelings in check. Brett’s radar is on point when it comes to his sister. I don’t want to be giving off weird vibes.

“Good timing. Maddie’s been cooking up a storm,” Brett states.

“Thanks, bro,” I say.

I walk in and Asher is kicking around a soccer ball. “Do you play soccer?” I ask.

“I was playing on a team but we left Jersey so I can’t play anymore,” he says with a frown.

“Asher, you’ll make new friends in New York and they have soccer teams here too,” Maddie assures him.

“I can play soccer with you,” I say to him.

“But you’re a hockey player,” he says.

“So, I’m good at soccer too. So is your uncle, Brett,” I say.

“Leave me out of it. I’m hungry and the food smells too good,” Brett replies.

“Nice,” Maddie chides her brother.

Brett shrugs. “My stomach is grumbling.”

“Dinner will be up in five,” Maddie announces.

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