Page 14 of The Love Penalty

I mentally file away every bit of information she gives me. I find her fascinating and beautiful. And I need to slow it down, because I just became her friend and the last thing I want is for her to run away if I tell her all my crazy thoughts about her. Like how I want to run my fingers through her long wavy hair and pull her in my lap. How I want to push her up against the wall and see how incredible she tastes. How I want to tell her all my secrets and life stories.

We stayed at the restaurant until it closed around 1 AM, and then we walked together to the hotel we were both staying at. We shared an elevator and exchanged phone numbers—I had to write hers down on a scrap of paper from the front desk—and said goodnight. I fell asleep thinking about the slant of her lips and the waves of her hair.

I’m not blind and neither is she. There’s clearly some chemistry here, but I’m not about to mess it up by making a move and acting on my feelings. The last thing I would want is to make her uncomfortable. And besides, I want to continue talking to her, getting to know her.

Bang Bang.BANG!

I wake with a start. Someone is pounding at my door. I’m tired and bleary eyed as I make my way to the door and open it with a frustrated, “What?” before taking in the sight in front of me. Ash is sporting the world’s blackest eye and his whole demeanor is different than his usual cocky one. He’s looking at the floor as he says, “Hey Cap, can we talk?”

I gently grab his shoulder and pull him into the room. I grab the phone from his hand, since mine is broken, and tell him to take a seat while I use the restroom. I text Elias and Jordan to come over to my room if they’re awake.

I go out and pull a chair so I can face Ashton where he’s sat on the bed. “Ash, what happened?” I ask.

His shoulders are slumped and he’s looking down at his lap, hands fidgeting. He shrugs. I swear to God, he’s a child sometimes. But instead of chastising him, I tap his foot with mine. “Did you come here to brood or talk?”

“I don’t know. What am I doing wrong, man?” he replies quietly.

“Who says you’re doing anything wrong?”

“You, the guys, everyone,” he sighs and I frown.

“Is this about your partying and us joking about keeping you in check? You know we’re not serious about that crap, right? We see your crazy potential and we would never judge you for living your life how you want. We’d never turn our backs on you,” I say.

“It might be said as a joke, but you’re not wrong. It’s just—I don’t know,” he sighs and runs his hands through the longer parts of his fade. “You all have your lives together and you know what you want out of life, and I’m just kind of aimlessly drifting.”

He stands up then sits back down. “My only goal in life was to make it into the NHL, and what am I doing? I’m known as the guy with the most penalties and fights. A hothead. No one takes me seriously.”

There’s a knock at the door and I tell Ashton to hang on to his thoughts. I open the door to let Eli and Jordan in. They take one look at Ash’s face and they immediately respond and fuss over him.

“What the hell happened to your face, man?” Jordan asks while taking the chair I was just sitting in.

Elias’ face is stony and he stares hard at Ash. He approaches him, tilts his head back with more gentleness than I've ever seen him show, and grunts out, “Who did this to you?”

Ash is quiet for a moment but eventually relents and says, “Mitchell.”

We all explode at once.

“What?”

“The fuck??”

“When?”

He pulls out of Elias’ grip and lays back on the bed as he says, “Last night. A couple of old friends and I had plans to meet up for a drink after the game. I wasn’t planning on having more than one beer, by the way. I already felt like shit after the last fight at the end of the game, so I was hoping to call it a night early. But then, more Vortices players showed up, including Mitchell. I was doing my best avoiding him, but then he started talking shit about you, Cap. He also said some nasty things about Eli. So,” he shrugs, “I couldn’t let that stand. I told him he’s a piece of shit and all he knows to do is fight. He’s not even that good of a hockey player. So then he punched me. I didn’t expect it so I went down. Hard. I think I might also have a bruised rib from knocking into the bar.”

“What happened next?” I ask. I am fucking furious. What the hell was Mitchell thinking, punching another player off the ice?

“The cops showed up and we all got thrown out of the bar and taken down to the station. I called Coach and he came down, listened to the statement I made.”

“Did you press charges?” I ask.

He shakes his head, “No, Coach said to leave it at that. I think he plans to bench me for a few games though. I just can’t help but feel like I majorly screwed up, when I didn’t even touch the other guy.”

“What did the police report say? Did any of the witnesses lie and take Mitchell’s side?” Jordan asks. Good point, what if they plan to turn this into a vendetta to get Ash suspended?

“No, two of the guys that gave statements were my friends. I was there, they didn’t lie.”

“Okay. Good,” I say, pacing the room. “I’ll talk to Coach, make sure you’re not benched for too long.” He starts to protest but I stop him, “Just enough so that you’re back to feeling one hundred percent. I won’t have you play with a black eye and bruised rib, alright?”

---