Page 59 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

He laughed and headed directly to his locker which was across the room from mine.

Seeing as I was the oldest standing member of the Oklahoma Thundercats, as well as the team captain, I got the center stage spot right in the middle of the room next to the snack table.

I also had the only locker on the wall, away from everyone’s smelly jock straps and three-day-old socks.

It was glorious, and a constant reminder that I didn’t have much longer in the NHL.

If I was lucky, I’d have two years tops. And that was if I didn’t hurt myself, which was a distinct possibility.

I hurt.

I hurt all the fucking time.

There wasn’t a morning that I got up and I didn’t hurt.

I was forty-two years old, and well past my prime.

The next oldest person on the team was Bryson at thirty-nine.

The Thundercats were all I knew.

I was drafted by them at twenty-two, and I’d been with them ever since.

“Come on, Virgin Mary,” Bryson called out. “Get your shower done so we can go!”

If he only had any clue how true that statement was.

I’d never really set out to be the oldest virgin alive, yet, I was accomplishing it nonetheless.

Being the son and grandson of two of the richest people in the world, I’d had my fair share of people that were out to get me for my money alone.

I’d learned that lesson the hard way when I was in high school and my then high school girlfriend, Tiffany, had decided that I was going to be her ticket out of the hellhole town she called home.

When I found her poking holes in the condoms we were about to use, I learned a valuable life lesson. I couldn’t trust women.

At least, most of them, anyway.

Even my own mother admitted that she was only with my father for the money.

And I didn’t want to spend my life learning that the hard way.

In college, I’d tried to do the whole dating thing again, only to almost get baby trapped for a second time.

This would happen three more times before I just gave up completely.

Was I sexually frustrated? Yes.

Was I willing to fuck just anyone without trusting them one hundred percent first? A resounding hell no.

I still hadn’t found that, and at this point, I thought maybe I never would.

Except…there was just something about the girl that drew me to her. Something that pulled at my soul from the moment that I’d spotted her trying—and failing—to skate down the hallway.

Which was the sole reason that I’d wanted to go to the practice and watch.

Maybe it was only a fascination that would pass. Whatever it was, I intended to find out.

“Ruh-roh,” I heard called.

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