CHAPTER 21

HEAD GAMES

LANCE

I get it now. I’ve found someone who consumes my world, so I don’t say anything to Miller about the excessive display of affection he’s engaged in right now. Instead, I grab his bag from his front porch and toss it into the back of my Hummer while he cradles baby Logan in one arm and close-talks Sunny with the other.

I get his bad moods. I get why he’s quiet and anxious these days. This thing with Poppy is new, and Miller and Sunny have been together for a long time now, but the restlessness that’s settled in my chest is directly related to leaving Poppy this morning. And knowing I won’t see her for five days dampens the usual excitement of the games. Miller must feel this times a million.

Randy tosses Miller’s equipment on top of mine, and I use my shoulder to force the door shut.

“Two minutes, Butterson,” I call, and then Randy and I get back in the Hummer and wait.

My phone goes off, so I check it, thinking maybe it’s Poppy messaging me between appointments. It’s not, it’s unknown. “Fuckin’ell.”

Randy looks up from his own phone. “What’s up?”

“Tash.”

“Why don’t you just block her?”

“I did. She got a new phone. Or another one. I don’t fucking know.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. She won’t let up. It’s been pretty constant since all the pictures of me and Poppy showed up.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit is right. She wants to meet up and talk when we’re in LA, which is Tash-speak for fucking with my head. I told her no, but she always does what she wants.”

“You think she’ll show up anyway?”

“I don’t know. Probably. She’ll want to see the team, right? It’s like she wants to screw this up for me.”

“I don’t get it. Why is she still all over you like this?”

“That’s a good question, and I don’t have an answer, other than she gets a kick out of messing with me.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah. I just need to avoid her in LA, and then hopefully she’ll let up after that.” I don’t know how else to get rid of her.

“You think you can do that?”

“I’m gonna have to, aren’t I?”

“I guess. How’re things with Poppy anyway?”

I think about how I left her this morning: hair all tangled, lips swollen and cheeks pink from the see-you-soon orgasms I gave her.

“Good. She’s good. Things are good.” For now.

Randy strokes his beard. “Does she know about Tash?”

“That she’s still calling me? No. That she exists. Yeah.”

“Do you think you should tell her?”

“And say what? My ex, or whatever I’m supposed to call her, still fucks with my head? She already knows it was a complicated situation. I don’t plan to see Tash, so it shouldn’t be an issue anyway, right?”

“I guess not, but it’s probably a good idea to be honest with her, especially since you seem to be turning into something serious.”

Miller opens the rear passenger door and drops into the seat behind Randy. “Thanks for waiting, Romance.”

“No problem. I know they’re hard to leave behind.”

He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “I really hope this gets easier.”

I finally understand his worry.

We had it out last week about why he’s been so shitty with me. Poppy was the issue. He thought I was going to treat her like she’s just another bunny.

It turns out when Poppy was performing her dick removal last year, she happened to tell him I was her first kiss. He’d known the entire time and said nothing.

Obviously I was pissed about that in return, because if he’d just said something, we could’ve avoided all the fucking tension in the first place. But she’d asked him not to tell me, and he figured if I couldn’t remember I didn’t deserve to know. He had a point, even though I didn’t like it.

And now that I know the how and the why and the where of our beginning, I’m glad he didn’t tell me, because getting that memory back is probably one of the best things to happen to me in a long time.

I put the Hummer in gear, and we head for the airport.

We win the first two games in the series. It’s a good high we’re riding, especially with the way last season ended. I talk to Poppy every day and avoid the bar scene after the games, having learned from Randy and Miller’s past mistakes.

Before we landed in LA, I blocked Tash’s number again. Not that it stops her from finding other ways to contact me. Today she used someone else’s phone to leave me a message.

Poppy has clients all day, so I don’t get in even a short phone conversation with her before I have to get on the ice. Tomorrow night I’ll be back in Chicago, and she and I have plans. I just have to get through this game and the rest of the night, and everything will be fine.

I’m not on the ball, though. I’m distracted. And having lost the last game they played on home ice, LA is chippy. I end up in the penalty box more than once.

After the game, Randy and Miller decide they want to hit the bar for a beer before calling it a night. I don’t go because I know Tash will show up like she does every time we have a game in LA, and this is the first one this season. The majority of the team still likes her because they have no idea what she’s really about.

It’s pretty late by the time I get to my room. I hope Rookie takes whatever bunny he’s picked up tonight back to her place, or gets his own damn hotel room. I’m tired of having to sleep on Miller and Randy’s couch.

I call Poppy, but I get her voicemail. I assume she’s sleeping since it’s even later in Chicago, and she told me she’s been making up for all the hours she’s missed since we started seeing each other.

I pack my bag so it’s ready for tomorrow morning and in case I have to vacate when Rookie comes back with his hands full of bunny. I can understand now, in a way I never did before, why Miller and Randy used to get pissed off about all the bunny shit when I’d have parties.

At twelve thirty, Rookie still hasn’t come up and I’m bagged. I haven’t heard anything from Tash, which should be a relief. But for some reason it isn’t. I send Poppy one last message about how I can’t wait to see her tomorrow, turn off the lights, and attempt to get some sleep.

I’m woken sometime later by the click of the door. I wish I was a heavier sleeper. Quiet whispers and a few giggles follow, along with some shushing from Rookie, who is clearly not alone. I can’t tell if he’s only got one, or if he’s brought along a pair.

“My roommate’s sleeping. We gotta be quiet,” Rookie whispers, but he’s slurry and louder than he probably intends.

Not that it matters. The sound of a cricket can wake me from a dead sleep.

More chatter follows. “Can’t we turn on a light?”

That voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

He laughs. “Then we’ll wake him up for sure.”

“So? Maybe he’ll want to play, too.”

The rustle of clothing follows, and a second female voice whisper-yells ow!

I should’ve known she’d find a way to fuck with me.

I feel the edge of my mattress dip.

“That’s not my bed,” Rookie says.

I smell Tash before I feel her. The scent of my shampoo and her lotion hits me like a puck to the face. I try to untangle myself from the sheets and get out of bed before she reaches me, but I’m not fast enough.

She straddles me and her palm comes to rest on my throat. The light beside my bed comes on, brightness blinding me. Long, dark hair tickles my chest, and the spiders are back, crawling under my skin. Goose bumps rise across my arms. Not the good kind. She pulls down the covers until they reach my waist, then stretches out on top of me. She’s topless. Braless.

“Get off me.” I reach out to grab her wrists, but she shifts around next to me.

“Whoa, Romance, calm down, bro!” Rookie says. “Hey don’t do that.”

Tash’s cheek presses up against mine. “Smile.” The flash blinds me again.

“Fucking Christ. What’s wrong with you?” I’m faster than she is this time. I grab her waist and flip her so she’s face down on the bed and I’m on top of her.

The other girl is staring at us, slack jawed.

Rookie tries to pull me off Tash, but I’m not seeing anything but red right now, so my first instinct is to punch him in the face. He goes reeling back, and the other girl screams.

“Give me the goddamn phone,” I yell at Tash, who’s laughing underneath me.

I stretch out over her, pushing her down into the mattress. In that moment I recognize how close I am to the edge. I wonder if this is what it was like for my mum, if she was always at this point with my dad, if he did the kinds of things to her Tash does to me.

The thought sends my head to dark places, where all the bad things I’ve done over the years taunt me.

I want to hurt Tash the way she’s hurt me. But she’s fucked up. Worse than I am, maybe. And as much as I hate her, I get that her head isn’t right, just like mine.

“You’ll have to fuck me for it,” she laughs.

“Just give me the phone.” I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and the other girl has her phone out. “Don’t.”

It’s too late, though. I know it by the way her eyes jump from me to Tash and back again.

“Sent,” she tells Tash.

Tash stops fighting and drops her phone on the comforter. I nab it and push off the bed as fast as I can, so I’m not touching her, and she’s not touching me.

“Who did you send it to?” I ask the other girl.

She cradles her phone to her chest, seeming a little scared.

Rookie looks super confused. “What the hell is going on? Do you know her?”

I bark out a bitter laugh. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

A flash of hurt passes over Tash’s face before she gives me one of her sneers. “When did you stop being fun?”

“When you decided to keep bringing me gifts I didn’t want.” I turn back to the girl. “That picture you took, I wanna see it, and I want to know who you sent it to.”

She passes over her phone. “I didn’t post it publicly or anything.”

A sick feeling washes over me as I take in the image. I’m wearing a pair of boxers, and I’m fully lying on top of Tash. Most of my face is in profile, and I look pissed. But it’s her expression that makes the roll in my stomach become a knot. Tash, who is very clearly topless, is smiling directly at the camera. Like she planned this.

“Who did you send it to?”

“Me,” Tash says. She’s sitting on my bed, long hair cascading over her shoulders. She’s still shirtless.

I pick her shirt up off the floor and toss it to her. “For Christ’s sake, put this on and delete the damn picture,” I bark.

She doesn’t catch the shirt, letting it fall on the bed. “And Poppy, of course.”

“Bullshit.”

“She has all sorts of social media accounts. Posts all kinds of pictures of the flowers someone keeps sending her.”

“You’re stalking her? Jesus, Tash, what the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask again.

Her face falls, the anger I’ve witnessed before pushing to the surface. “Just interested in finding out what gossip is true and what isn’t.”

I laugh. She’s said that to me before—when I said I wanted just her, when I tried to make it work. She would hit me with words, and then she’d take them all back with apologies and promises, only to slice me apart again when she brought me another present in the form of someone she could fuck.

“You don’t even want me. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

She gets up on her knees like she’s thinking about touching me, so I take another step back. “What if I do want you?”

I have no idea how much of this is a show for our audience and how much is her manipulating as she does.

“You don’t. And I don’t want you. Not anymore. Not for a long time, Tash, and especially not after this.” I motion between her, the random girl she’s using, and Rookie.

Her smirk fades, like maybe she realizes, finally, that this game she’s playing with me has real consequences. But Tash doesn’t know how to be any other way.

I get that, because before Poppy, I didn’t know I could be another way either.

Tash pulls the shirt over her head and jumps up off the bed. “Whatever. It’s always the same thing with you.” She holds out her hand for her phone.

“Tell me your passcode so I can delete whatever pictures you took first.”

She purses her lips, then smiles, but there’s a waver to it.

“Twenty-one twenty-one.”

“Seriously? Did you change it just for tonight?”

She drops her chin, and for a second I’m sad for her. I understand exactly why I kept going back, over and over again, for the same crap. Because under the psycho bullshit is a broken person. And that was something I could relate to. But I can’t fix her. I don’t know that she wants to be fixed. And I can’t be responsible for changing anyone but myself.

I spend the next few minutes scrolling through her phone, deleting the three blurry pictures she managed to take, and then deleting my contact information. Once I’m done, I go into every single one of her accounts until I find the picture her friend sent and delete that, too. I don’t care that she’s yelling at me, or telling me I’m invading her privacy. I don’t even react when she starts slapping me and Rookie has to pull her off.

I check her browsing history; she’s not lying about stalking Poppy. She has every one of her social media accounts bookmarked. It’s almost creepy. Or rather, it’s super fucking creepy.

“I need a minute,” I say to Rookie. I point to the wide-eyed girl. “You need to take her somewhere.”

“What?” He looks confused.

“I need to talk to Tash without an audience. Go hang out on the balcony or something.”

“Can I have my phone back?” the girl asks.

“Not until I erase all the pictures.”

“I only took one.”

“You know we can have you sign an NDA right now, and if you post anything—any little fucking thing about me or Rookie—you’ll have a lawsuit so fucking fast your head will pop off.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “I-I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t listen to his bullshit. He’s pissed off that we came up here with his friend.”

I spin to face Tash. “Don’t you ever get tired of the head games?”

That shuts her up, at least for now.

I delete the image from the girl’s phone before I pass it back to her. Rookie takes her by the elbow and heads for the door, which I sincerely appreciate.

“I’ll message when Tash is on her way down.”

He gives me a long, worried look. “If you’re longer than twenty I’m bringing her back up.”

As soon as the door closes, Tash takes a step toward me. I hold out my palm. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

She raises her hands in the air and backs up a step.

I grab my shirt from the end of the bed and pull it on, along with a pair of track pants, because there’s no way I’m having any kind of conversation with Tash until I’m fully clothed.

“Seriously, Tash, why are you here?”

She just kind of wilts. “To see you.”

“This thing you think is between us? That’s done. It’s been done for a long time.”

“Are you still mad about last time?”

I run a palm down my face, trying to contain my frustration, but I can’t. How did I ever think this was worth something?

I wish Poppy was here. She keeps me level. She makes me feel like there’s something good in me that I can actually hold on to. I wish I had her to keep me from exploding like this, but Tash always knows how to push me to the edge, light a match, and set me on fire.

“Yes! Yes, I’m still mad about last time, and the time before that, and the one before that, and every single fucking time you brought me someone else after I kept telling you not to. I don’t know why this is such a goddamn surprise for you.”

“Then why didn’t you say no?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. Because I thought maybe at some point you’d actually hear me and listen. Because I didn’t think I deserved anything better at the time. Look, it doesn’t matter, because you’re not gonna do this again. I meant what I said. I’m done. And you need to be done too. Stop whatever this shit is.” I hold up her phone and scroll through all of Poppy’s bookmarked pages. “This isn’t normal, Tash.”

“I remember her. She was at your house a year ago. How long have you been screwing her? This whole time?”

“What?”

“Were you fucking her back then?” She vibrates with barely contained rage.

“Jesus Christ. Are you on something?”

“Answer the question!” she screams.

She’s all over the place. I recognize the behavior. And it hits me. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before—the ultra highs, the deep-dark lows, the paranoia, the rage, and the grandeur. She’s manic. Just like my mother is.

“No. I hadn’t seen her in a year. I just met her again. Why is that even relevant?”

“Well, what are you gonna do when she wants to put her hands on you. How are you going to deal with that?”

“I like it when she touches me.” The words are like a backhand for her, so I keep going. “I don’t get anxious. I don’t need distractions. She’s good for me.”

She’s silent for a while before a look of malice appears. “Maybe not any more, though. May not after she sees that picture.”

There’s no point in arguing with her. The conversation isn’t rational. She only wants to cause pain.

I key the code back into her phone and go through the rest of her social media profiles, checking to see where the image was sent. I find it in a group message that included Poppy. She hasn’t seen it yet. But she will.

I hold up the phone. “This was your plan?”

“You spend all this time with her, send her flowers like she’s all yours, but what if she doesn’t want you after this?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

Confusion mars her face. I used to think she was attractive, but now I know what’s inside her.

“I’m helping you,” she says.

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Sure it does. Is she worth it if she can’t get over this? I mean, does she even know the rumors about you are true? I bet she doesn’t.”

“You should go get your friend.” I toss the phone to her.

“That’s it?”

I give her a blank look.

“Okay, fine. Suit yourself. I’ll be in Chicago in a few weeks.”

“You’re not getting me, Tash. This is it. There’s no more. We’re toxic for each other, and you need…something I can’t give you. I won’t do this with you any more. I don’t want to.”

“Because of this girl?”

“Yes. And because I can finally see what I was doing to myself, and letting you do to me. I don’t want to be this way, and I don’t have to.”

“I could try—”

“I don’t want you to. I don’t want to try with you. Look what you just did to me. I can’t trust you. I need you to stop. Leave Poppy alone. Whatever happens between her and me after this, I can’t have you messing with her life the way you did mine.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

I give her a look. “It would only take a phone call. You know that. It’s not something I want to do, but I will if you force me.”

Tash laughs, but it’s a flat sound. “So that’s it?”

“Aye. You need to go.” When she takes a step toward me, I put a hand up and ward her off.

Her head drops. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“And I mean it when I say no contact. Especially with Poppy.”

Her expression is broken as she regards me. “Fine.”

As soon as the door clicks behind her, I drop to the couch. I’m shaky and on edge, as is typical after altercations with Tash. But there’s a tiny little seed of relief within me too. Tash may not have gotten my message, but I think I did. I’m ready to move forward. Be different. Even if it’s a hard road ahead.

I need something to replace all this unease, so I send a message to Poppy. She’s been so trusting, and now Tash has to come in and try to fuck it all up. What a fantastic legacy that will be if I’ve managed to get rid of her, only just a little too late.

It’s the middle of the night, so I don’t expect a reply. All I can do is hope I’m the first person she calls when she gets up in the morning. If I’m not, things are going to be that much worse.