Wingmen are a Girl's Best Friend: Laketown Hockey

by A. J. Wynter

  Amber tilted her head. “He said his friend comes by what, once a week?”

  “Yeah.” I reversed the car out of the parking lot.

  “And it’s been two or three days?”

  I nodded.

  “If you don’t hear from him by the end of the weekend, I’ll go with you. We’ll find this random stranger in Corstead. You’re not going alone.”

  “Thanks, Amber.” I appreciated the offer but knew that if anyone was going to Corstead to find Slim, it was going to be Leo.

  The patio at the brewpub was packed, but Amber and I were able to find a seat under a red and white striped umbrella. By the time the plate of fries and glasses of Chardonnay arrived, there weren’t any empty seats left in the place.

  “Did you message Gunnar back?” Amber took a bite of a fry and chased it with her wine, the sun glinting off her aviator sunglasses.

  “No. I meant to, but the day got away from me. Why?”

  We had both worked through lunch and I was starving. I stabbed a couple of fries with my fork and crammed them in my mouth.

  “Because he’s over there.” Amber jutted her chin at the entrance to the patio.

  “What the hell?” I looked over my shoulder and there he was, scanning the crowd, holding a bouquet of pink roses.

  “Do you think he’s got another date?” Amber whispered. Then her eyes went wide. “He’s coming over here. He’s coming over—”

  “Hi.” Gunnar’s deep voice reverberated behind me.

  I turned and pretended to be surprised. “Hi, Gunnar.”

  “I hope you don’t mind; I saw your car in the parking lot.” He looked nervous and handed the bouquet to me.

  I didn’t want to take them, but I did. “Thanks.” I set them on the table. “You saw my car here, and happened to have a dozen long-stemmed roses in the back seat?”

  “Gunnar.” Amber’s voice interrupted. “Would you like to join us?”

  If I’d been facing her, Amber would’ve gotten a death stare.

  “I don’t want to interrupt,” he said as he pulled out one of the free chairs. “Nice to see you, Miss Amber.”

  “Same, Gunnar. I hear that you’re having a great season.”

  Did Amber feel sorry for this guy? Was she taking pity on him?

  “It’s going pretty well.” He grinned and ordered a beer from the waitress. “The skills competition is coming up on the weekend, as I’m sure you know.”

  Amber sipped her wine. “I’ve heard all about it.”

  “You’ll be there?” Gunnar asked, but he was looking at me.

  “Everyone in town will be there, Gunnar, including us.”

  Gunnar smiled at Amber and then turned to me. “I was hoping that I’d run into you.”

  “As evidenced by the flowers.” I nudged the paper-wrapped bouquet on the table.

  Gunnar rubbed the back of his neck and a coy smile spread across his face. “I might have a picnic in the back of the car, too. Would you like to join me?”

  I looked at Amber, whose eyes were the size of saucers. No, I didn’t want to go on a romantic picnic with Gunnar, but I did want that shoe back. Even though Leo and I had agreed to be friends, going with Gunnar would feel like cheating.

  “Gunnar—”

  Amber stood. “You’ll have to excuse me.” She dabbed her mouth with the paper napkin. “I’ll be back in a minute – little girls' room,” she added as if she needed to explain. I knew that she was giving me some space to let Gunnar down without an audience.

  All of a sudden, Gunnar was holding my hand. “You look beautiful in this light.” He stared at me with intensity.

  I gently pulled my hand from his and pretended to fix my hair. “Thank you, Gunnar – for the compliment and the flowers – but Amber and I already have dinner plans.”

  “But I texted you this morning.”

  Oh, my God. Gunnar Lockwood was not used to being ignored. If I had wanted a relationship with the guy, I’d played it perfectly – but I didn’t. Even if Leo was out of the picture, Gunnar was pretty to look at, but that’s about it.

  “I must have missed it.”

  He reached for my hand again, but I pretended to be extremely interested in the pink roses. I picked off a petal and rubbed it between my fingers.

  “How about a drink later? Picnic blankets work for nightcaps too.”

  Nightcaps. Was he a fifty-year-old man stuck in a twenty-something body?

  “Gunnar…” He was a boring guy, but he was also a nice guy. I couldn’t string him along. There was someone out there for this perfect man, it just wasn’t me. “I’m going to pass on the picnic. I appreciate the offer, but I’m just…” I almost said, not into you, but that seemed too harsh. “Not in a place for dating right now.”

  He leaned back in the chair and took a sip of his beer. I couldn’t tell if he was hurt, or in shock that he, the star of the Otters, had just been rejected. “Okay.” He finished his beer. “There’s no one else is there?”

  “I’m not dating anyone else.” It wasn’t a lie. Leo and I weren’t dating, we were friends. Friends that had benefits one time.

  “Alright then.” Gunnar stood and adjusted the hem of his t-shirt. A few hushed whispers and giggles came from the table of girls behind us. Gunnar Lockwood was going to be just fine.

  Amber returned to the table. “Are you leaving, Gunnar?” she asked.

  “I am, Miss. I hope you two have a lovely evening.” He tipped his baseball cap.

  But before he left, he leaned and whispered in my ear. “We don’t have to date. You can call me anytime.”

  “What did he say?” Amber whispered after Gunnar strode away from the table.

  “That’s he’s available for booty calls.” I sipped my wine and slid the flowers across the table. “Here, you keep these.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Amber took the bouquet and smelled the flowers. She finished the last french fry and pouted. “I’m still hungry.”

  “Me too,” I laughed. “Maybe we should roll Gunnar for his picnic basket.”

  I thought Amber would laugh, but she didn’t. She leaned onto the wooden table. “Faith. Are you sure you don’t want to give him a chance?”

  Her eyes were serious.

  “Who? Gunnar?”

  Amber pursed her lips. “The extremely handsome and talented man who just brought you flowers and invited you on a romantic picnic. Yes, of course, I’m talking about Gunnar.”

  I tapped the base of my wineglass with my fingers. “I just… it feels like I’d be cheating on Leo.”

  “You aren’t with Leo,” Amber said. “And…” she looked down at the table and her voice trailed off.

  “What?”

  “Leo’s a nice guy. But he’s hurt you in the past—”

  “That was a big misunderstanding.” I felt the need to interrupt with the correction.

  “I know, I know.” Amber held up her hand. “But Gunnar is obviously enthralled with you and Leo keeps pushing you away.”

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. “We value our friendship, and he’s probably leaving town.”

  Amber obviously was on team Gunnar. “Which one is it?”

  “What do you mean?” I could feel my defenses rising. Why was Amber being so critical about Leo?

  “You two are protecting your friendship by ignoring your true feelings. How does that make any sense?”

  “Well.” I was about to school Amber. “We don’t want to lose our friendship if the relationship goes wrong. And if he leaves to play in the National League, we can’t be together.”

  “Why?” Amber crossed her arms. “Listen, Faith. I hear things. Things that I shouldn’t.”

  “Oh?”

  “Leo’s a player.”

  She was wrong. “He was a player. He’s not like that anymore.”

  “Faith.” Amber reached out to touch my hand. “I’m not trying to make you upset; I just don’t know if you’re thinking straight.”

  I took a de
ep breath. She was my friend, and she was trying to help me. The worst part was that she was starting to make sense. “I love him,” I whispered.

  “I know you do, honey. And love makes us women do stupid things sometimes. But think about it. He MIGHT get drafted, he MIGHT leave, you guys MIGHT try, and fail.”

  “He’ll make it.” I shifted into defend-Leo mode again.

  “Fine. He’s got the skills. Let’s say he makes it. Would that be this season? Next season?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The waitress arrived at the table and we ordered a plate of bacon-wrapped scallops and two more glasses of wine.

  “Faith.” Amber’s eyes shone with kindness and she gave me a hopeful smile. “He’s scared of commitment. That’s all. And maybe you are too.”

  I wondered if she was right. “Maybe,” I whispered.

  “Look. You two love each other. Who knows when and if he’s leaving town. As far as I’m concerned, you two are idiots if you don’t try.” She slapped her hands on the table. “There. I said it.”

  “Whoa.” My head jerked back with the intensity of her words. My stomach fluttered and I realized that she was right. We could deal with the National League stuff when it came. Hell, it might not even be this season – maybe we could have a full year together here in Laketown.

  “Sorry about that.” Amber tucked her hair behind her ear. “I got a little worked up there.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “We need to try.”

  “You do.”

  The waitress returned with our wine and we tapped our glasses together before taking a sip. “Faith.” Amber’s voice was serious.

  “Yeah?” I was beginning to worry about what was going to come out of her mouth next.

  “You need to be prepared if he says no.”

  It felt like a punch to the gut. I had already imagined skinny dipping, campfires, walks in the fallen leaves, and winter snowball fights. I hadn’t imagined what would happen if Leo… I couldn’t bring myself to think about it. What if the friend thing was a ruse – what if he just didn’t want to be with me?

  After dropping Amber off at her house, I washed my face and flopped into bed. It had been a long and exhausting day. I checked my phone and my heart leaped into my throat when I saw Leo’s name. I clicked open the text message: Call me tomorrow. I have something important to show you.

  Cryptic. But that was Leo. I bit my lip and wondered if it was something to do with my dad. No, if it was that big, he would’ve called me.

  As long as it’s not a dick pic. I texted back.

  My phone pinged almost immediately. Leo had sent a picture.

  His dick was the best I’d ever seen, but I still didn’t want a close-up of his anatomy on my phone screen. I put my hand over my eyes and peeked through my fingers at the photo. I tilted my head and then tilted my phone screen to try and decipher what I was looking at. Oh, Leo. I literally laughed out loud. It was a picture of a dog’s belly, close up. The inappropriate photo was immediately followed by another. This one wasn’t obscene, it was adorable. Leo was snuggled up behind Moofie. I zoomed into the photo and recognized the poster on his bedroom wall, one that he’d had since he was fifteen years old. Had the commitment-phobe just adopted a dog?

  So adorable, I texted. And the dog’s cute too.

  If we were still just friends, I’d definitely crossed the line. I waited for a response and after twenty minutes, I realized it wasn’t coming. Leo had either fallen asleep or didn’t know how to reply to my flirty text. I knew better, but I sent one more. It read: We need to talk.

  Nineteen

  Leo

  My phone alarm went off and I wondered why I’d set it for such an early time. I pushed snooze and tried to roll over and ran into a wall of brown fur. “Moofie.”

  His ears flicked as he heard his name, and he opened his eyes to look at me. I rubbed his face and heard his tail thwack against the duvet. “Ready for a walk, big guy?” I asked. I sat and stretched my arms over my head. Moofie also stretched, smacked his lips a couple of times, and then snuggled into the covers.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I promised Mom that I’d turn you into the best-behaved dog in the world – and that means getting up and going walking every day. Even in the winter.” I clapped my hands and he reluctantly stepped out of bed. I knew he didn’t know what the hell I was saying, but I kept talking to him and he kept looking at me like he was listening.

  I checked my phone and realized that Faith had messaged me after I fell asleep last night. Scanning the texts, I realized that she’d made some comments about the dog being adorable, but I didn’t pay much attention to that one. The last text she sent was the four words no guy wants to hear. We need to talk.

  It was barely dawn, there was no way she was going to be up this early. I tucked my phone into the pocket of my sweatpants, threw on a sweatshirt, and Moofie and I were out the door. He pulled for the first half of the walk, but on the way home, he seemed to figure out that walking beside me made his life a lot easier. I needed to make sure my mom was going to be able to control this gentle giant. If he decided he wanted to chase a squirrel into the bush, he’d pull my tiny mom right along with him.

  Blaming my upset stomach on hunger pangs was easier than admitting I was worried about Faith’s text. When we got home, Moofie’s tongue was hanging out, and after his breakfast, he looked at me and then disappeared up the stairs. I followed and saw that he’d gone back to bed.

  “I’d do that too if I could, buddy.” I got dressed and patted my new roomie on the shoulder. “Be good today.” He lifted his head and then dropped it back onto the sheets. “Better not be drool city in here when I come home.”

  He was already snoring.

  Practice was excruciating and I almost threw up the breakfast sandwich I’d bought from the canteen.

  “Nice hustle out there today, Leo.” Coach pointed at me with his Sharpie before he went over the notes from practice. The entire practice had been in preparation for the exhibition game on Saturday – only two nights away.

  Coach pointed at Dylan Moss. “You’re going to lead practice tomorrow.”

  I was a little disappointed. Coach chose the best player from each practice and let them lead the warm-up drills at the next one. I’d really thought that it was going to be me. Dylan nodded. I couldn’t be jealous, he was on top of his game too – the only one who seemed off today, surprisingly, was Gunnar.

  “Boys, I’ve canceled Friday’s practice.” Coach shouted over the noise in the dressing room.

  That wasn’t a surprise, he liked to give us the night off to rest before a big game.

  “That means rest and relaxation, visualization... Not partying.”

  A couple of the guys laughed.

  Coach slapped his hand on his clipboard. “I’m not fucking joking, boys.”

  That shut them up.

  “We still need to do some work, so I’ve secured us ice time tonight.”

  I wanted to groan. Two practices in one day. Instead, I gave Coach a thumbs up. It was time to turn things around.

  “Five o’clock,” Coach shouted and slapped the wall as he left the dressing room.

  “Oh, come on,” Gunnar whispered. It was the first time I’d seen him react negatively to any of Coach’s calls.

  “You alright, Lockwood?” I whispered.

  He gave his head a shake. “Yeah, man. I’m good.” He stood and walked out of the room first – something he never did.

  “What’s up with Mister Perfect?” Dylan zipped his hockey bag.

  “I dunno.” I put on my team jacket and stepped into my flip-flops as Dylan’s words registered in my early morning brain. “Mister Perfect. That’s it!” I smiled. “It’s the perfect nickname.” I gave the word perfect an English accent and it suited Gunnar even more.

  “Mr. Perfect.” Dylan high-fived me.

  “I don’t think he’s going to like it,” I said.

  “Meh, who cares?” Dylan laughed as
he walked out of the room.

  I checked my watch. I had six hours to go home, walk Moofie, mow the lawn and weed mom’s basil patch, and find out what Faith wanted to ‘we have to talk’ about before I had to be back at the rink.

  Twenty

  Faith

  The office smelled like freshly baked muffins and percolating coffee. I set down my bag and followed my nose to my mom’s office. “Blueberry or bran?” She pointed to the box on her credenza. I picked out a blueberry muffin, separated the top from the bottom, and tried to stop my eyes from rolling into the back of my head as I took a bite.

  “Maven’s?” I flipped the box closed to confirm the source of the heavenly muffin.

  “Where else?” Mom laughed. She didn’t take her eyes from her computer screen. “There’s a cappuccino for you there too.”

  I took the paper cup from the cardboard holder. “I’m going to need this.”

  Mom laughed. “I’ve already had two.”

  “What time did you get here?” I asked.

  Mom looked at her watch. “Just over an hour ago. Amber was already here.”

  I thought that my seven a.m. arrival time was early, but my colleagues were putting me to shame.

  “I saw your proposal for the Yates’ Bunkie.” She finally took her eyes from the screen.

  “And?” I blew on my coffee, which was unnecessary – it was almost cold – and took a sip.

  “I love it.”

  “It’s perfect,” a voice said from behind me. I turned to see Amber leaning against the doorframe.

  “Thanks, you two.” I hadn’t seen their concepts, so I didn’t have anything to compare, but I was super proud of what I’d come up with. “When do we expect to hear back from… will it be Monica or Bronwyn?”

  “I feel like Bronwyn is going to be more hands-on than her parents and grandparents. She confirmed receipt of the email and I expect to hear from her, not Monica, sometime soon.”

  Amber cleared her throat. “I usually don’t like working directly with the client, especially when it’s an emotional design like this one, but I’d rather deal with a hormonal pregnant woman than a stuck up…” Amber was too classy to swear, but we all knew what she meant, and it rhymed with witch.