Page 5 of Stick Play

“No, Dad. I know you can do your own driveway. I’m home because I don’t like the heat.”

“That’s the third time you told me that and now I’m wondering who it is you’re trying to convince.” I scoop more snow, scraping my shovel along the cement to clear it all. I don’t want to leave any traces behind. I’m not sure I trust the local meteorologist, but the temperature is supposed to drop tonight, and I don’t want Dad slipping on ice when he goes out for his daily walk. Not even the frigid weather can keep him inside, and honestly, I’m happy that he’s exercising and eating better.

“I don’t need to convince anyone of anything.” Jesus, I sound grumpy.

Dad waves to his neighbor as he drives down the street. “You realize you’ve been in a slump now for about six months.”

“Been playing my ass off, and I’m just tired. You know what the NHL season is like?”

He throws his arms up in the air. “All the more reason you should have gone to the Caribbean with your friends.”

Exasperated with the way he’s pushing my buttons, I drive the shovel into the snow, and lean against the handle. “What’s really on your mind, Dad?” I huff out.

He adjusts his wool hat and shrugs. “Just saying, lots of pretty girls on the beach.”

“You know I’m not into that.”

A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, is there something else you want to tell me?” He puts a gloved hand on my shoulder. “I love you for who you are, son and?—”

I shake my head. I love my father with every fiber of my being. He’s a hard-working handyman, who taught me everything he knows. After Mom left us both, he worked day and night to pay for my hockey, but today, he’s pressing, trying to get me to admit something…

I know what that something is.

“I need to keep a low profile.” I soften my voice. I’m not mad at him. “You know that. We’ve talked about it.” Christ, after my ex-girlfriend, a well-known influencer—correction, she only became well-known after she threw me under the bus—went on social media and accused me of horrible things, like drinking and driving and banging numerous bunnies at the same time, she went viral and I… Well, as the world sympathized with her, I was hauled into Coach Sanders’ office and torn a new one.

Clean up your act, Ash. We don’t need this negative publicity.

He wanted to get me a publicist. I thought that would only draw more attention to a situation that was nothing but lies and embarrassing enough. I assured my teammates it wasn’t true, and they believed me, never bringing it up again. But now I have to keep my head down, my stick on the ice, my focus on hockey. There’s no room for bunnies, drama, or accusations.

Is there room for Gina?

Gina Martin.

I’d fought so damn hard to ignore her over the last couple of years, but when I went to help with her fridge last summer and she had that adorable smudge of grease on her face, it was all I could do not to tear her clothes off and take her right in her café. Then when she came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, not even Portland’s strong defense team could have kept me away.

Afterward, she ignored me.

Completely and utterly pretending I didn’t exist.

Like we didn’t have the best sex of my life on her dining room table.

Even at group events, she acted like nothing happened—like she didn’t come apart with my fingers, my mouth…my cock.

My dick twitches at the memories.

“You’re a man in your prime, Ash.” Dad’s voice pulls me back and I start shoveling again. “You should be in the Caribbean having fun.”

“I don’t want to have fun.” The truth is, I never was much into the bunnies, even though everyone thinks the opposite. I’m kind of a one-woman man, and that one woman I currently can’t stop thinking about is a mother of a small girl, and she wants nothing more to do with me—and the fact that she has a small girl should be enough for me to run the other way.

Having grown up with no mother of my own, with zero female influences in my life, what do I know about girls? If she had a boy, I could at least take him to the rink, teach him to play hockey, but when it comes to sugar and spice, I’d just fuck that up.

What am I even saying?

I’m not going down that winding road with her or anyone. I need to stay on the straight and narrow, head in the game.

“Well, I’m not getting any younger, you know. Maybe you would have found a nice girl in the Caribbean. Someday I’d like grandkids. That would give me something to do with my day.” He snorts. “Maybe I’ll just go back to work full time.”

“Dad, you’re not…I’m not…” Dammit, he loves to hold that over me. Maybe grandkids are exactly what he needs. If only I had a sibling, but I don’t because dear old Mom ran off. “What do I know about raising kids?”

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