Six

Max

The minute I walked out of the house, I thought I was going to punch the side of her fucking house. I knew the minute I sat down in the car and Doug said we were going to Allison’s it would lead to this, to her expecting me to be the fuck-up. And, well, she didn’t disappoint. I would have let her go on and on, but Doug didn’t let her.

I get to the car that Steve, who is Denise’s co-worker at the hospital, is driving. As soon as I saw the car coming down Allison’s street, I bailed out the door and made it down the steps and to the car. Steve stops the car and Denise jumps out, running to me with tears down her face.

“I’m so sorry, Max.” She sobs out in my chest while I hold her head and kiss her forehead. “I didn’t even think.”

“It’s fine. Let’s get in the car so we can get the fuck out of here.” I walk to the car, getting in the back with her, where she curls at my side as she silently cries. “Hey, Steve, thanks for picking her up.”

“Yeah,” he says, pulling away from the curb and making his way to my apartment. “Figured you could use the ride.”

Denise slowly peels her head from my shoulder. “What happened in there?”

“Nothing. They asked me questions about what happened. Luckily, Charlotte told her brother that the guy has been in there all day drinking and leaving to go smoke or whatever. So they gave me a warning to stay out of trouble. It’ll blow over,” I say.

“I called Doug as soon as they took you away,” Denise says. “I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“It’s fine. Doug was okay about it. My PR girl not so much,” I say, looking at the entrance to my loft and seeing that there aren’t any news vans there waiting, which is a good sign. “No news vans. Maybe she actually did her job instead of bitching,” I say to myself as I get out of the car. Steve parks in the visitor parking spot and they follow me inside.

“What do you mean?” Denise asks me.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say when I walk into the kitchen and grab a water bottle out of the fridge.

“It matters to me.” She gets on the stool in the kitchen.

“She started throwing my rap sheet in my face.” I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.” I lean back on my counter, crossing my feet.

“You’ve never brushed it off before.” She points at me. “You usually rant and rave about it.”

I take off my cap, running my hands through my hair. “Maybe I’m maturing,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Maybe.” Denise eyes me and then turns to Steve. “You think you could drop me off at home?”

Steve just nods.

“I think I need to sleep for a week and then I might feel human again.” She gets off her stool and comes over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “You’re the good guy.” She leans up and kisses my cheek. “Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, well, once you fuck up, it’s hard for people to see that good in you.”

“Hmm.” She grabs her bag and Steve guides her out.

I finish my bottle of water and grab my phone to see what mess I got myself into. When I see Twitter the hashtag throws me off #mykindaguy.

The team made an official statement, which I know is one that Allison had to type up. It is basically me as a knight in shining amour. It’s been retweeted over a thousand times, and the hashtag is now trending. I shake my head and check my email, seeing one from Allison. I scoff while reading it. Sorry my fucking ass. Only reason she’s sorry is that she isn’t right. I throw my phone down before I send her a simple fuck you email.

I’ve never cared if someone liked me, spoke about me, or thought I was a thug. I didn’t give a shit, but when she looked at me and threw my rap sheet at me without knowing, it burned all the way to my soul. I stood, ignoring her eyes or the look of disgust. The minute I saw Steve, I bounced. I didn’t give a shit. It’s been two days and she’s already getting on my last fucking nerve.

I peel off my shirt and toss it in the basket. I’m probably holding all this pent-up frustrations because I haven’t fucked in such a long time. That is what I need, to fuck. I grab my phone, knowing I can have someone here in ten minutes, but the sane part of my brain tells me to put the phone down and fuck it. I toss my phone, closing off my alarm for the next day. No way am I going to work out tomorrow, at least not at the rink. Then I think about it. Fuck her, fuck them, and their condescending shit. I’ve paid for my mistakes tenfold and I refuse to make them run me off. Not this time.

Tossing and turning all night, the only thing I see when I close my eyes are her eyes. I give up finally at four a.m., get up, and go to the gym. Go in early, get home early. Maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to see her. Maybe. I spend three hours on the ice, by myself. In my own zone. I work on my skating, my stick handling, my shooting. By the time I skate off, my body is soaking with sweat.

“You got here early,” Luka, the goalie, says to me, putting his bag down.

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep so thought I’d come in.” I toss my helmet on the top shelf. I peel my jersey off, tossing it into the basket in the middle of the room. I sit down with just my pants on and bend over, taking the tape off.

“Jesus fuck, how much did you grow this summer?” Luca takes in my chest and arms.

“Not that much.” I smile at him and toss my tape at him. “Knew you’d be slacking, so I had to pick up the pace.”

“Slacking my fucking ass.” He gives me the finger and goes out to find the trainer.

I end up in the shower by myself, which suits me just fine. Getting dressed in my workout gear, I throw my hat on and make my way to the kitchen, knowing the food is being cooked by the smell lingering in the halls.

I fill up my plate, a mountain of eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast. I sit down and I’m about to take my first forkful when I hear her voice.

“Hey, I was looking for you.”

I don’t even bother looking up.

“Well, you found me.” I put a forkful of eggs in my mouth.

“I wanted to just say that I’m sorry for jumping the gun yesterday. I should have listened to your side before I said anything.” She trails off because my head snaps up and I’m about to tell her to fuck off, but Denise’s voice is in my head. You’re the good guy. I look at her eyes and see that she isn’t bright-eyed this morning.

“Forget about it,” I finally say. “In the end, you did what you’re paid to do.”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

I laugh at her. Got off on the wrong foot. That’s a fucking joke.

“We aren’t off to anything. How about this? You stay out of my way and make sure we never have to work together.” Much better than telling her to fuck off.

“We work together. We will be traveling together.”

I cross my arms.

“We don’t need to be friends,” I say, taking the last forkful. I ate so fucking fast my stomach is throbbing. “You do your thing. Let me do mine. I won’t assume you’re always a bitch and you can assume I’m not always an asshole. How’s that?” I throw my fork down.

She grinds her teeth together. “Fine.” She storms out.

“She is so hot,” Ryder says, sitting down next to me with his own plate while I pick up my plate and am just about to walk away when he adds, “What I wouldn’t do to get a piece of that.”

My plate slams down hard, making everyone look back at us. I lean in close to his ear. “Have some fucking respect. That’s your captain’s sister.”

His face turns a pale white, his head going up and down nodding. I make my way out of the kitchen, vowing to avoid her like the plague.

And for two weeks, it works out perfectly. I know she’s around, but I go the other way when I see her, till the first preseason game when I have no choice. It’s a home game and we leave tonight right after we face Toronto. I walk into the arena with my bag over my shoulder. I’m texting Denise when I bump into someone. I don’t have to look up to know it’s her. I smell her. Her hands go up against my chest, the heat of her palms soaking through my shirt.

“Sorry,” she says to me and I make the mistake of looking at her. Her tight skirt hugs her like a skin. She pairs it with a see-through white button-up shirt with a silk cami under it. A black tiny belt ties around her waist.

“Yeah, my fault,” I say, going around her and walking away from her. I don’t have time for this shit now. I walk into the room and look around. Half of the regular team isn’t here as they are still lying with the rooster.

Phil and Matthew walk in. They will both be on the ice tonight, but I’m the only one going on the road trip. I dump my bag and get in the zone. We are all dressed and ready to take the ice when Coach Dan comes in with Doug and some of the coaches and my eyes land on Allison. She has put on a jacket now with polka dots. Her blue heels complete the outfit. I shake my head and put my gloves on my stick and listen to them tell us to go out there and have fun, no stupid tricks since it’s not a real game, but let’s face it, no one wants to lose.

We line up as the music starts and we bounce on our skates, waiting to finally take the ice. This is my year, my fucking time. I just need a chance to prove it.