Page 38 of Icing the Enemy

Sonny boots one to the right field, fifteen feet or so over my head. Oakley’s cheering him on, jumping up and down, and her boobs are so damn perky, all I can do is watch. She’s uptwo kickers later and kicks a bouncy one to third base. Our player misses it, so Sonny rounds second, then third, and Oakley becomes monkey in the middle between second and third. Our player, I think his name is Martin or Marvin, throws a zinger and hits Oakley in the face. She collapses on the grass.

Fuck. I run to her, and blood is rushing from her nose.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, shouting. “You aimed for her fucking face.” I push him, and he pushes back. Then he swings and staggers when he misses. I pull Martin, or whatever his name is, by his t-shirt.

“She’s tough. She can handle it,” he grimaces.

Blood covers Oakley’s tank. “Let’s go have this looked at. It might be broken.” I try to lift her up, and she shirks away from me. WTF? I didn’t throw it.

“Stop. You’re embarrassing me,” she strains through gritted teeth.

Letting go of her arm, I take a step back as she pushes off one hand to stand.

“At least, apply pressure. I’ve had my nose bloodied more than the average guy,” I say, attempting to cool her off. For whatever reason, she’s upset with me.

Sonny asks her, “Do you want me to take you home?”

“We came together. I’ll take her.” The words come out possessive like I’m beating my chest like a gorilla. Mine. Mine. Mine.

I wait for her to agree with me and when she doesn’t, I lift her off her feet and carry her to my truck, honeymoon style. Fuck Sonny and Marvin Martin.

“Let me take you to the ER to get an x-ray.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “No. Just take me home.”

As I stand on her doorstep, I know that what I am about to say may not be well received. But I can't help it, I have to try.I softly speak up, my voice conveying my concern, "A girlfriend would want her boyfriend to take care of her." I gently touch her cheek with my thumb, and she leans into my touch. For a moment, I see her defenses crumble, and I feel a sense of hope. But then, she pulls away, and tears well up in her eyes.

She asks me, her voice trembling with emotion, “Why do you have to be so nice?”

“You have my mom to thank for that.” Instantly, I realize that my words have triggered something deeper within her.

“Just go.”

I stand there, silently wondering what’s going on inside her head.

“Okay but keep applying pressure to your nose and keep an ice pack on it.”

She nods and when I walk away and get into my truck, I see Sonny knocking on her front door, ready to pounce on his wounded prey. Part of me wants to jump out and claim her. But the other part knows she’d get pissed off.

All the way to my house, I mumble, “This is an arrangement. Not real. Not real. It’s fake.”

So why do I feel so much anger and jealousy?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

oakley

What doesit mean when you ask your friends not to tell a soul about your relationship, and yet, the next morning Corbin and I are plastered all over social media? Photos of him trying to help me up, my nose bleeding, and him carrying me off the kickball field.

Corbin Shearer, Notes hockey star, caught playing kickball with the woman who stole his car.

Can the golden boy of hockey change

her thieving ways?

My first thought is that Corbin will be furious if he’s not already. He hasn’t called me this morning, so I’m unsure of what we’re doing today. I should have called him and apologized to him, but just one time, I wanted to show him something I love. Then Martin had to throw a speedball right at my face. At least, Luna posted a photo of him watching me play Pacman, standing close and looking over my shoulder. You couldn’t see our faces, but she captioned it, “My favorite hockey player on a date.” AndCorbin retweeted it, subtly, putting it out there that he’s off the market.

As I take a closer look at my bruised and swollen face, I have mixed emotions. Embarrassed over the way I look—the inside corners of my eyes are blue and purple, but it’s nothing makeup can’t cover. And I’m hurt that Marvin would take winning so seriously that he would throw the ball at my face. Confused that Sonny came to check on me after Corbin left.

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