Two

Max

The sound of the alarm beeping has me leaning over and groaning. Eight a.m. It almost feels like noon to me since I spent the summer up at my house in Canada training every day at five a.m. A log cabin hidden in the woods where the town has a population of one hundred and twenty-five. It was the first thing I bought when I signed my big contract at the age of twenty. It’s a place that no one but my sister, Denise, knows about. Four years apart, Denise and I haven’t had the easiest life. Our father was in and out of our lives, just as the seasons come and go. Our mother was a mean ass drunk, and let’s not forget our verbally abusive stepfather. Think Married With Children but on meth.

I turn myself in bed and press the button for the shades to open. I lie back in my big king-sized bed as light fills the room. I live in a loft in Soho. One whole floor to myself. I fell in love with this space as soon as I visited. It was an old dusty factory when I first stepped in it. The only thing I kept was the four brick walls. I had a designer come in and she made a miracle happen. Gone were the dusty floors and in their place were all dark wood oak floors all over the house. They match the wooden beams she brought in. She kept the open-floor concept, except when it came to the bedroom. All the way at the other side of the floor it’s blocked off by a full wall that hides my bedroom, master bath, and walk-in closet.

The sun is out, with not a cloud in sight. I’m about to get up when my cat shows up. Yeah, I have a cat, but it’s a manly cat, a white Persian. Okay, maybe not manly, and it is a girl, but her name is Stanley. “Hey, princess,” I say as she lies on my chest and purrs while I rub her ears. She quickly gets tired of me and goes off on her own. It’s then I toss my white cover off of me and head to my bathroom. I approach the toilet that is in a separate room and come out to wash my face in the sink. The white and gray marble counter stretches along a big wall with two sinks separated by the ‘makeup’ part. Something I never approved, but somewhere the designer thought she would be putting her stuff. I walk to the shower, opening the glass door and stepping inside. The inside walls have the same marble as the counter, the white tiles on the floor blending perfectly. Opening the shower, two waterfalls start over me. Leaning my hands out onto the wall, I let the water wash over my back. This summer I added twenty pounds of muscle. Seven days a week, eight hours a day, I pushed my body to where I thought it would snap. I’m coming back bigger and better, especially since this is my last year with New York. My contract is up after this season and I know they can’t wait to toss me out on my ass.

Fuck, they would have tossed me out six years ago when Matthew fucking Grant came waltzing in and stealing my thunder. I was a dumb kid back then. The king of the fucking world, at least in my world. I was the golden kid on the team, the one who led everyone till I was the one who almost brought the team down, with just a stupid game.

Not only did Matthew take my place on the team, he turned the team against me. Okay, I did have a hand in that, but I fucking hated it.

One night, drinking by myself in a bar, this hot blonde walked up to me. Puck Bunny, I knew it a mile away. Fuck, just thinking about it I get sick to my stomach. She brought me back to her room, then latched on to my dick like a jellyfish in the ocean. I gave her Matthew’s name. Fuck, what a fucking mistake. We spent the night banging each other, only for her to wake up and expect a fucking ring. She genuinely looked shocked when I said I don’t do relationships. Her vow to make me regret it should have been my first clue. But how the fuck was I supposed to know she would beat herself up and tell everyone that I raped her? Well, not me but Matthew. The minute the cops came into the locker room, I knew. I had a sick feeling in my gut. I still remember faking sick. I rushed back to my room, got in touch with my lawyer, and together we went down to the police station. Of course by that time, the detectives already knew that Matthew wasn’t the one who was with her. Now it fell on me. They charged me with aggravated assault, rape, and impersonation. It was the single worst mistake of my life. After the dust settled and we found out that she pulled this stunt with at least ten other people, I was dismissed, but my reputation was tarnished and destroyed. I tried to apologize, but no one wanted to hear it. So I did what I do best, I went out there and played my heart out. We won the cup that year. I want to say I helped, but my head wasn’t in there. I hoisted the cup, but Matthew was the one who led the team. I spent the summer with my tail between my legs, licking my wounds and being like woe me.

Until my sister showed up with a black eye.

“What the fuck happened to you?” I asked, my blood boiling, my hands clenching into fists as my body became a stone in front of her.

“He came to my room tonight,” she started talking; she also didn’t need to tell me who he was, as I held up my hand, bile rising up my throat.

“Did he touch you?” I prayed that she said no, prayed to anyone that would have listened to me.

“I fought him,” she whispered as the sob she kept back ripped from her and her knees finally gave out. I ran to her just before she hit the floor.

I laid her down on my couch and I spent another night in jail that time, but it was worth the look of shock when I showed up at my mother’s house and knocked the shit out of my stepfather. While I sat on his dirty, high body as my fists plumaged into his face.

One week later, I was summoned to New York. So I made peace with the fact that my career was over. I told my agent to go through my contract, making sure I wouldn’t end up broke also.

When I walked into the office and Doug was the only one there, I didn’t know what to think.

“Sit down.” He pointed to the couch and not to the chair in front of him. “Give me one reason to keep you?” it should have been a simple question, but it wasn’t. It was a loaded question.

“When my head isn’t up my ass, I’m actually a good hockey player.” I looked at him square in the eye, man to man.

“No, that is where you’re wrong,” he said and the confidence I had left my body like a swoosh, “you’re a fucking great hockey player. But then off the ice, you’re a loose cannon.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” I started, “but this time it really wasn’t my fault.” He looked over, waiting so I did what I didn’t want, I spilled my guts, “My stepfather tried to rape my sister. I couldn’t let him get away with it.” I shook my head as the thoughts came rushing to my head, and then everything else came out.

The little Canadian boy who had nothing but a teacher and an old hockey coach looking out for him.

Then when I thought that he would give me my walking papers, he did the opposite. He made sure that Denise was taken care of and since she graduated a year ahead of schedule, she got accepted at the top medical college. He vowed that no one would know and he kept his word.

She lived with me while she finished high school and then I paid her way to med school. Now she is the best pediatric doctor out there. The only thing is she never leaves her heart at home, so when she loses a patient, her heart goes with them.

Turning off the water, I snap back into the present. One year, I tell myself. One year to play my ass off and secure another contract. It’s a piece of cake. Or is it?

I make myself breakfast while I sit at the island and go through the emails from the team. There is a new PR person who is taking Mindy’s place. I scan the email to see if I need to know this and delete it, not caring who the fuck is taking her place. Maybe this will be good. Mindy fucking hated me. She barely used me and all my photo shoots were on my own.

I read the sports section in the paper and then get myself ready. I make plans with my trainer to meet him after the photo shoot. Getting my black suit out, I shrug my shoulders into it as I put on my black Patek Philippe. I walk out to my SUV downstairs. Getting into my black BMW, I make my way to the arena. The streets aren’t too crowed today and I make it there in record time. Getting out, I see that I missed a call from Denise, but she sent me a text.

You think you can get a couple of your hockey players to come visit the hospital? I keep trying to get in touch with the girl Mindy and she never gets back to me.

I’m texting her back, not looking where I’m going, when I crash into someone. The person’s pink phone lands right in front of my feet. I don’t have time to bend down and grab it for her. Looking up, I see I’ve come face to face with an angel. A cliché, I know, but her face is stunning. She’s a fucking beauty. I take in her long neck because her hair is piled on top of her head. I know with one pull her hair would fall down over her shoulders. Her eyes are covered with her black glasses. I take in her outfit and know within a second she is all class. Which means this one is untouchable, or better yet, not in my league.

I’m about to grab her phone when she snaps at me and walks away. I don’t even know what I did. “Bitch,” I say under my breath and shake my head. Walking in, I shake coaches’ hands and say hi to some of the guys while I try to find out who the new PR girl is so I can ask her about doing a hospital visit. I turn the corner and see Matthew Grant laugh with the girl I met outside and it all clicks into place. She’s fucking Allison Grant, Matthew Grant’s sister and Cooper Stone’s stepdaughter. Not only is she out of my league, she is in the biggest no fly zone if there ever was one. “Hey,” I say, coming face to face with them.

Matthew nods, civil, which is the way we both like it. It’s not a secret we don’t like each other, but I’m not going to waste my energy on him. “Did you meet my sister Allison? She is the new PR girl hired to take Mindy’s place,” he says proudly.

The only thing I can think to say is, “Good to know.” Before I walk away and send Denise a text.

Yeah, looks like the new PR girl isn’t going to do the whole hospital thing.

I put the phone in my pocket, make my way to the locker room, and get into the uniform for the team photo. “One year,” I whisper to myself.