Page 85 of Body Checked By the Defenseman

We dig into the food. “This is gourmet,” I remark of the chicken in a mushroom sauce and the mashed sweet potatoes. He also has a tray of some kind of beef, and everything tastes amazing.

“I’ve got an assistant; she cooks for me and does the cleaning. She’s great in the kitchen.” He waggles his brows. “Perks of the job. We’re on the road so much there’s barely time to do my own shopping and it’s important to eat well.”

“Sounds like the life. Did I tell you I signed with Tampa?”

“Bruh.” He smacks my chest. “I knew you would land in a good spot.”

“Thanks. It’s cool. I was just down in Florida before the holiday with the team,” I tell him.

“So, you know what it’s like in the clubs for us?” he quizzes.

“Not really, there were games and practices. Everyone was super focused. What should I expect?”

“You’ll see,” he says conspiratorially.

He shows me to the spare room, and gives me a minute to change. I put on a pair of black chinos I packed, and I match it with a dark gray dress shirt.

When I walk out to the main part of the condo, Shane is ready.

“Now we’re talking. We’re going to have some fun tonight,” he hoots.

Shane had always been a ladies’ man and the life of a party, but he was a serious player too, and there was no nonsense when the season was running.

He calls an Uber, and we head out. We arrive to some street where there are a row of bars, clubs, and restaurants. It’s a cold night but we didn’t bring jackets. There are all kinds of fancy cars parked on the street too.

“What is this place?” I ask, looking around because there are literally Ferraris and Lamborghinis parked on the street.

“It’s called Yorkville,” he replies, and I follow him past a bouncer who nods to him. We enter the club and head to the VIP section, which is off to the right and up a few steps. He introduces to me to his teammates. There are also a bunch of girls around. All of them are wearing short little dresses that barely cover their behinds.

When a waitress comes up to me, Shane says, “Give my friend anything he wants on me.”

“Thanks, bro,” I say.

Some of his teammates are doing shots. Shane sticks with Perrier, which he says is sparkling water.

I order a tequila because that is what everyone is drinking. The guys on his team are cool and they ask me about Riverside.We throw back shot after shot and I am feeling good. It seems like the tipsier I am the closer the girls get. When some of the guys go to dance, I figure it’s a good idea to burn some of the alcohol out of my system. One of the girls who was flirting with me comes to dance. She is all over me on the dance floor. As drunk as I am, I start to think of my life. I felt shitty about hooking up with Vicky again in Mario’s house. Shittier still that I also hooked up with her friend, Summer, at the same time. Luc had gone with Jocelyn and Summer too. Everything was such a big mess that night, but that’s what I liked, situations that wouldn’t lead to anything serious because if I was anything like my dad, I wasn’t cut out for a family.

I dance until I am parched and then I head up to the VIP section. Shane is completely sober and talking with some of his friends.

The waitress comes up to me and I say, “Some sparkling water.” That shit sounds fancy.

“You’re learning quick, home slice.” Shane laughs. “Enjoying the girls?” He winks.

“Why are there so many of them all over us?” I ask through my drunken haze. At Riverside I am not lacking attention from females, but here they almost feel like magnets.

“They’re hoping one of us falls in love with them. They know who we are.” He grins. “Enjoy the ride.”

His words don’t sit well with me.

There are a bunch of appetizer dishes on the table, and I begin to eat a little, which helps with my state of drunkenness. I also drink the sparkling water, which isn’t that fancy because it tastes like crap. By the time we get back to Shane’s I am barely standing, and he helps me to bed.

I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache. I open my eyes to too much sunlight and I realize I never closed the blinds. I take a pillow and bury my head under it.

“Hayden, I made breakfast,” Shane calls from somewhere in the apartment.

I groan. “I can’t move,” I call out. “Shut off the sun.”

A couple minutes later, Shane enters the room looking too cheery and refreshed. He hands me a tall glass of orange juice and some acetaminophen.

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