Page 40 of Fall Wherever They May

After finally making it inside my house, I lean my back against the front door. My eyes close as an ache builds inside my chest. I press my fist to it, trying to alleviate the pain, but it’s no use. No matter what I do, there will always be a dull ache there. My thoughts begin to circle around my day with Aspen. She brings so much light into the darkness that has become my life. Every day, I live just a little bit more, but with that also comes guilt. Even as the guilt eats at me, when my head hits the pillow, it’s Aspen’s face I fall asleep to.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cal

As days turn into weeks, my feelings for Aspen grow deeper, and I don’t know what to do with that. I should stay away from her, but I can’t. An array of emotions swirls through me, ranging from lust, guilt, happiness, sadness, confusion, and anger—a daily battle between my mind and my heart. I know I shouldn’t, but still, I can’t help but find reasons to touch her in subtle ways. Even if it is just a graze, a little hit to get me by for a little while. She lives rent-free in my head, and many nights she takes residence in my dreams. Several times a week, we take walks together in the cool night air. Sometimes we sneak over to each other’s houses late at night and sit in the backyard wrapped in a blanket and talk about everything or nothing at all. It’s when I return home that I always feel conflicted.

I try to shake her from my thoughts as I skate around the ice, warming up for my game. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I’m nervous—I feel off. Something just doesn’t sit right. This isn’t normal for me. My eyes continue to find their way to the owner’s box, looking for Aspen. Why do I keep looking up there, and why does it feel like I miss her? I shouldn’t be feeling this way. My hands shake. My mind doesn’t want to cooperatewith my body—I’m sweating, even though I haven’t worked up a sweat. I don’t understand why.

I’m scowling when Aiden yells out, “Yo, Smiley! What’s wrong, man?”

I shake my head, conveying I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t tell anyone anything, but even if I did, it isn’t like I would talk my shit out on the ice in front of everyone and especially right before a game. I don’t even fully understand what I’m feeling myself, so I’m sure as hell not going to gain clarity from a teammate.

Trying to clear my head and my nerves, I take one last lap around the ice.. When it’s time to face off, and the puck is dropped, I’m quick to pass the puck back to Jerome. He skates up the right, fighting for the puck against the boards with Toronto. Jerome passes to Trevor but Trevor misses the pass, sending the puck into Toronto’s possession. Toronto passes back and forth, dodging our guys, before their player rounds the crease to shoot for a goal. Ivan makes the block.

I’m not in the game; I don’t know what is wrong with me, but my head isn’t clear, and I just let these assholes by me. I take a deep breath and trying to center myself between the plays.

The puck is passed to me. I pass to Trevor; he passes to Drew, then it comes back to me. I skate up the left side, over the red line to circle the crease, then I’m slammed into the boards. Before I know what’s happening, Carter slams into someone beside me and begins throwing punches. He’s booted from the ice, mouthing off while skating to the sin bin.

We alternate taking possession of the puck. Our opponent is playing to win. Aiden has the puck; he makes it over the blue line and passes to me. I cut, skate up the left, deke around Toronto, cut to the right, wind up for a wrist shot, sending the puck to the goal—it hits the post and bounces off.Fuck!

We recover the puck; Jerome passes to Trevor, he winds up, takes the shot, the red light spins, and the siren blares. Fuck yes! We’re in the lead, zero to one.

We end up winning four to three, but Toronto handed us our asses for a minute. Everyone jumps around, shouting. There are rounds of backslaps, hugs, and fist bumping. The locker room is loud in celebration with Humankind’s “Big Dawgs” blaring through the speakers. I hit the showers, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles as I wash away my sweat. That uneasy feeling still doesn’t settle, but after our win I’m in a much better mood. While I dress in the black Armani suit I arrived in, the guys are talking shit and popping each other with towels.

I’m standing at my locker, spraying cologne on my neck, when Carter sidles up next to me. “You want to go out with us to The Sapphire Lounge?”

The Sapphire Lounge is an exclusive club for the elite down in the lower east side of New York City.

“No, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

It’s an instinctive habit to say no right away. I’ve never wanted to do anything with them outside of hockey, and he knows what my response will be, but to be polite, he continues to ask me anyway. I just wonder when the invitations will stop completely because it’s expected of me to decline them. Do I want to go to the club with everyone and celebrate? Thinking of how much fun I’ve been having lately by spending time with Aspen has me second-guessing my original response. I don’t know if it’s just her or the fact that I don’t want to be trapped in my lonely ass house anymore. Life is becoming just a little bit easier to manage and I do have fun when I’m out.

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind.” I wrap Carter in a headlock. “Let’s do this!” I give a broad smile.

“No shit?” He asks, with a beaming smile.

Jerome, Carter, Drew, and I bypass the long line for the club and head straight in. We ascend up the stairs to the VIP section reserved for us. Standing at our private bar are Aspen, Hannah, and River, along with a few other teammates who just arrived. I walk toward the bar to greet the girls, but Aspen must sense me approaching because she spins around to face me.

“God!” She groans, tilts her head back, and puffs out an exhale. She tips her martini glass at me. “You are such a damn creeper!”

“Oh, I’ll just . . .” I throw my thumb over my shoulder and turn around like I’m going to leave.

She quickly grabs my hand, and a current of energy runs through my entire body. Every time she touches me, my stomach flips. I’ve never felt that before her.

“No. No. No. No. Don’t you dare,” she says, turning us and pulling me toward the bar. “I’m glad you’re here. By the way, good game tonight. I’m proud of you guys!”

I don’t know when Aspen had time to change after the game, but she has on a tight red mini dress that hugs her round ass. Her perfect tits are not completely on display, but her dress is tight across her chest, and even with the modest neckline, I have to avert my eyes. Don’t look at her tits. Don’t look at her tits. Don’t look at her fucking tits. I repeat the mantra in my head. She looks hot as fuck. My hands are clammy. My heart beats a little faster, and all of the blood rushes south to my cock, where it begins to strain against my pants.

A busty blonde bartender is working behind the sleek black bar. Underneath the bar, glows a cool blue light, showing off the upscale vibe. There are a few stools, but all of us are standing at the bar. The bartender sports a tight, haltered, tuxedo top, cut low enough to show off her tits. She’s paired it with a black miniskirt. Her name tag reads,Gina. Gina leans on the bar, and her boobs squeeze together. “What can I getcha, Hotshot?”

Aspen’s head rears back like she’s been backhanded, and she frowns. Even though I’m pretty sure it’s a common nickname, I can see the annoyance on Aspen’s face. Gina’s friendliness is obviously saturated in motivation. I could be mistaken, but I’m almost certain I see a little jealousy in Aspen’s eyes as she glares at the bartender. The left side of my mouth lifts into a knowing smirk. I place my hand on Aspen’s lower back. Her lips part with a gasp.

“Macallan, neat.” I say and toss a twenty into Gina’s tip jar. “And here’s another twenty if you call me by my name all night; it’s Callan. Hotshot is off-limits.” I look to the side and throw a wink at Aspen.

River leans over to whisper in Aspen’s ear. Aspen shakes her head no in response, and River quirks an eyebrow. I hear Aspen murmur to River to “leave it,” over the loud music as Carter finds us at the bar. He coasts his way over to River like a sly fox. “Look who it is! How are you, gorgeous?” His eyes roam over her face.

“Thirsty,” she retorts.

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