Most people know me as the cocky motherfucker that can hit hard, on and off the ice. I take my position as a defenseman for the Indianapolis Eagles seriously. Playing in the NHL has been my dream since I was about five years old. It’s the only thing I excel at – unless you count the number of women I’ve conquered.

Some call me a manwhore.

Player.

Cocky.

Womanizer.

Others bow down to my ability to bed the beautiful line of women knocking down my door.

Don’t get me wrong, the endless string of free pussy is any man’s dream and I’m the lucky son of a bitch living the life. Up until recently, I’ve had no desire to change my lifestyle. Except for having to deal with the nagging from my mother, wondering when I’ll settle down and give her a daughter-in-law and some grandkids, I’ve been happy with the status quo. But lately, it’s becoming old and as much as I hate to admit it, the stability of a long-term relationship is beginning to look more enticing. The number of women coming on to me since we won the Stanley Cup a few weeks ago has been crazy, and, unbelievably, I’m over it. I can’t even go to the grocery store without being swarmed by women.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as my phone starts ringing on the counter.

“Hey, Mom,” I greet as I answer my cell.

“Hi, Brian. Are you ready for your trip to Alaska?”

“As ready as I can be. I just need to finish packing my suitcase.”

Tomorrow, I fly up to Alaska to join my teammates, Scott Taylor and Richard “Murph” Murphy, for Scott’s community event and day with the Stanley Cup. I’m looking forward to leaving town for the rest of the summer, and hopefully get out of the spotlight.

As our team captain, Scott gets the cup first this summer. I still don’t know what I’ll do once it’s my turn, but that can wait to be decided another day. Once his event is over, we’re headed out to his cabin for a week and after I leave Alaska, I’m headed back home to Minneapolis to see my family. My sister, Jennifer, and her husband, Andrew, are expecting my first nephew this summer, and I’m excited for them. My mom is ecstatic to finally be getting a grandchild, and I can’t wait to finally be an uncle. But ever since my sister got married a couple of years ago, the pressure has been on me to settle down and get married as well. I know she just wants me to be happy, but fuck, if it isn’t a ton of pressure.

“Well, I hope you have a good time!”

“I’m sure I will, Mom. How’s Jenn doing?”

“She’s good, she had a check-up the other day and the baby is looking good. I think she’s hitting the point where she’s ready to be done with pregnancy and just wants to have that little man in her arms.”

“She sounded pretty tired when I talked to her last,” I agree.

“Well, it shouldn’t be long after you get here that he’ll arrive, so the end is in sight. Then the real work begins,” my mom says, chuckling into the phone.

“If you say so, Mom.” I hear my phone ding with an incoming text, and pull the phone away from my ear to quickly glance at it. “Hey, Mom,” I say, “I’m sorry to cut our call short, but Murph just texted that he’ll be here in a couple minutes. We’re headed out to dinner tonight.”

“Sounds good. Make sure to let me know you made it up to Alaska, okay, and have a great time. I can’t wait to see you when you get home. Love you, son.”

“Love you, too, Mom. See you soon. Tell Jenn I love her when you talk to her next.” I hang up with my mom just as Murph knocks on my condo door.

“Hey, man,” I say as I open the door, motioning for him to come in.

“Hey, ready to go?” Murph asks.

“Yep, let me just grab my keys and wallet and we can head out. I just got my mom off the phone.”

“She giving you shit again about settling down?”

“Not this time. I think my sister is keeping her occupied with the baby coming soon,” I tell him, as I grab my keys and wallet and we head out the door, stopping quickly so I can lock up.

“The sports bar okay with you?” Murph asks, as we climb into his truck.

“That’s fine with me,” I tell him, as he pulls out of the parking lot of my condo building.

Thankfully, the sports bar isn’t all that busy when we arrive, and they’re able to give us a booth that is tucked away in the back.

Murph and I shoot the shit while we're at the restaurant, but call it a night early since we’re leaving early the next morning. Murph drops me off at home, with plans to meet at the airport in the morning before our flight.

Not ready to head for bed after Murph drops me off, I grab a beer when I get home. Sinking down on the couch, I take a minute to just think about my life, and where I’ve come over the last few years. Being a professional athlete comes with perks. I get paid more money than I know what to do with, all to play the sport I love. Thanks to the front office looking out for their players, I was set up with a financial planner right after I was signed as a rookie, to manage my money correctly. There are so many guys whose careers end suddenly, and they’re quickly fucked because they blew all the money they made, or were forced to retire earlier than they planned due to injury, and didn’t have enough time to make enough to save for after their hockey careers were over. I didn’t want to be that guy, so I listened and invested my money early. I also made sure to take care of my mom and sister. My mom raised us by herself after my dad died, when I was only three and my sister was five. She didn’t meet her current husband until I was nineteen and already on my way to a promising career in hockey. So, for many years, it was just the three of us.

One of the downsides of being a professional athlete, though, is figuring out when people are only after your money. One of the biggest reasons I’ve never settled down is because I don’t know if these women are only after my bank account. I have no problem spoiling the fuck out of the woman who can finally wrangle me, but hell if I know when I’ll ever meet her. Puck bunnies are constantly throwing themselves at me, and being the manwhore I am, I admit to fucking a lot of them. I’m not disrespectful – they know the score going into it, and after a great night of sex, we part ways, never to see each other again.

Pushing all thoughts aside of my life and the craziness of the past few years, I toss my beer bottle in the trash and head for bed. My five AM wake-up is going to come early tomorrow.

* * *

The day after we arrived in Anchorage, Scott took us out to dinner and then we hit up one of the night clubs. When we first arrived at the club, I was in the mood to find some pussy, and thought I’d found just the fiery redhead that would scratch that itch. I first noticed her across the dance floor, as she pretty much was undressing me with her eyes. We spent the evening on the dance floor, grinding against one another, until she was pulled away by her girlfriends when they were ready to go. Once she left, I called it a night and took an Uber back to Scott’s house.

Today is his public event with the Stanley Cup and then tomorrow, we head to his cabin a few hours away. Murph and I took his extra truck down to the event to help him with any last-minute setup details, and to be on hand for the meet and greet.

The crowds were constant, and I was ready to be done by the time the event was over. Don’t get me wrong, I love interacting with the fans, and Scott’s event was well-planned and went off without any issues. It never gets old, seeing the look in kids’ eyes when they meet one of us. It was just a long time to be constantly camera-ready for pictures with fans, and signing memorabilia.

Just as we’re ready to leave, Scott notices someone through the lingering crowds, and takes off from where we were talking.

“Becca! Hey, Becca!” I hear him call in the direction of a woman standing around the food trucks parked on the edge of the park strip we have been at all day.

“Damn, she does exist,” Murph murmurs next to me.

“Who?”

“You know, Becca…the woman he’s always talking about. His one that got away,” Murph replies.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” I say, as we walk toward Scott and the woman he’s talking to.

“Well, hello there, sweetheart,” I say, as we approach.

“Back. The. Fuck. Off. Brian!” Scott tells me as he punches me in the chest, over-enunciating each word and giving me a stern look. “Becca, this is Brian Kelly,” Scott says, while pointing at me, “and this is Richard Murphy.” He points at Murph. “Both of these guys are my teammates. Guys, this is Becca Phillips.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Becca says to us, reaching out to shake our hands.

“Nice to meet you, Becca,” Murph replies. “You can call me Murph.”

“So, the infamous Becca does actually exist,” I muse, as I punch Scott back and graze my eyes up and down her body, riling Scott up.

“Shut it,” Scott growls.

“Come on, Brian, let’s give them some space.” Murph grabs me by the arm and starts to pull me away. “We’re going to head back to your house, unless you need us to do anything else here,” Murph says to Scott as we walk away, leaving them to their conversation.

“It was nice to meet you, Becca. Maybe we’ll see you again before we leave town,” Murph calls over his shoulder before we’re too far away from them.

“Nice to meet you as well.” She waves.

“Sounds good. Thanks for your help today, guys. I’ll meet you at my house in just a bit,” Scott tells us and then turns back toward Becca. I smirk at him, and how evident his feelings for her are. My gut twists, though, a little envious to know what it feels like to want someone that much, even years later.