“Wanda, what a treat to see you today,” Eduardo, the owner of Noodles and Donuts, greets me with a giant grin on his face. “And Little Miss Shea, looking beautiful as ever.”
“Thank you kind sir.” Shea curtseys then does a spin in her tutu. Kind sir . . . I shake my head, she must have picked that up from my brother.
“Would you like your usual table?”
“And two pink donuts,” Shea adds, holding up two fingers.
Eduardo tips her chin. “Coming right up, sweetheart.” He nods to the back of the restaurant. “You can go and take a seat. Coffee?”
“Please, and a Thai peanut chicken bowl for me, extra veggies.”
“Coming right up.”
We walk to the back of the restaurant and to the table that sits under the window, overlooking a tiny garden. Shea takes no time in hopping up on her seat and placing her elbows on the windowsill, looking out over the vegetation.
“One, two, three, four, six.”
“Five sweetie, don’t forget five, remember, that’s how old you are, you don’t want to skip it.”
“Daddy,” she gives me a “look.” “I said five in my head.”
“Ohh, okay, but when you’re counting let’s refrain from saying numbers in your head.”
“But it’s not fun like that, daaaaad,” she drawls out.
“My mistake,” I mumble.
Glancing around the restaurant, I’m surprised to see there aren’t a lot of diners today. Noodles and Donuts is a popular little hole in the wall in Philadelphia. It’s the perfect spot for something sweet and savory. What else do you really need besides noodles and donuts?
Well, plenty of things, but Shea loves it here, so it’s our special place.
“Eleven tomatoes, can you believe it dad? Eleven!”
“Wow, eleven, that’s crazy.”
“I KNOW!” She giggles and shakes her head. “Eleven tomatoes is definitely crazy.”
“The craziest.” My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. Most likely it’s either my coach or my agent, and I’m less than interested in talking to both of them right now, especially since it’s my day off from an arduous road trip and we are coming down to the end of the season with playoffs looming over us. I just want to focus on my girl.
“Two pink donuts for the prettiest girl I know,” Eduardo says, holding out a plate.
Shea goes to reach for her donuts but I snag the plate away before she can shove the whole thing in her mouth. She has a goal in life, a ridiculous goal mind you, to shove an entire donut in her mouth. She watched my brother do it once and now any chance she gets, she tries. Thanks, Chuck.
My leg bouncing, I really have to go to the bathroom, I point my finger at Shea and say, “Listen here you fairy princess, we are not shoving the entire donut in your mouth, and you will have a bowl of my veggies as well before you can even think about that second donut, got it?”
“But daddy, how am I going to fit a donut in my mouth if I don’t practice?”
Sighing, I eye Eduardo, who’s chuckling to himself. “Can you watch her for a second while I go to the bathroom?”
“No problem, man. But if she shoves a donut in her mouth, that’s her business.”
I stand, my height five inches taller than Eduardo. “Don’t let her shove the damn thing in her mouth, break her off a piece. Come on, be the adult.”
“But she’s so cute.”
Yeah, she’s cute, which makes it so much more difficult. I make my way to the bathroom while I pull my phone from my pocket.
Voicemail from Greg, yup, my agent wants something and I’m not in the mood to find out what it is. I love my job, being able to play hockey for a living, feeling the scrape of the ice beneath my blades and making money doing it, there is nothing greater than that, but I’m more of a homebody when it comes to the outside responsibilities that come along with the job. I just want to skate around, play the game, slam some guys into a wall, and collect my paycheck. The promotions, and marketing, and appearances, yeah I could do without those. Don’t get me wrong, six years ago during my rookie season when I was maybe a little too wild, hence the child I have, I had a damn good time, but now I’m a little older, a little wiser, and a little more banged up. Maybe a little boring.
When I reach the bathroom, I quickly take care of business, wash my hands, and take a look at myself in the mirror.
Fuck am I a pretty little lady.
Wanda, sparkling from glitter, pretty in pink, and shiny jewels for days. Even though I wouldn’t trade this life for anything, I kind of feel like I’m in a rut. Like I should go put on some nineties mom jeans, perm my hair, and start jogging around with a fanny pack.
I can’t remember the last time I went on a date, or even had a woman around. I don’t fuck around on road trips, and I don’t bring girls home because of Shea. So to say it’s been a while is an understatement. Maybe that’s the reason why I’ve been extra aggressive on the ice recently.
Sighing, I take one last look at myself, and exit the bathroom, just as my phone rings in my pocket again. Jesus, Greg.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the phone and see Chuck’s idiotic face displayed on the screen.
What does he want?
I’m about to answer the phone when I’m bumped to the side by a slim shoulder. I really must be off my game, because I lose my balance and fall into the wall, knocking down a picture frame. Before it can hit the ground, I spin to catch it just in time as I hear someone from behind grunt.
When I turn to see who so easily pushed my six-foot-three stature to the side, I’m greeted by a woman maybe five inches shorter than me, her blonde hair curled and bouncing at her shoulders while her bangs pull my attention to her deep blue eyes. Her hand is cupping her cheek as she looks me up and down, humor lighting up in her features.
“Oh shit, are you okay?” I ask, even though I was the one who flew into the wall.
“I think so.” She pulls her hand away and checks her palm then pats her face again. “This is the first time I’ve been bitch slapped by a fairy wing before, so I’m trying to see if you left any of your pretty fairy dust on me. I’ve never been tested to see if I’m allergic.”
A slow, lazy smile spreads across my face. “I heard getting tested is an intense process where they dangle fairy wings over your face and every thirty seconds they lower the wings and give you butterfly kisses.”
She tilts her head to the side, studying me intently. “From your knowledge of butterfly kisses, your obvious dress-up game, and the tiara that seems to fit you perfectly, I’m going to guess you either have a daughter, or are the best, most invested uncle or big brother on this planet.”
“Daughter,” I laugh. “She’s five and I don’t get to spend a lot of time with her, so when I do, I go all out.”
“I can see that.” The twinkle in her eyes that sparkles when she looks at me does something funny to my stomach, something I haven’t felt in a while. “If it matters, I have to say, you’re quite fetching in a tiara. It’s very becoming of you.”
“Do you really think so?” I pretend to primp my buzzed hair.
“Oh it’s so you.”
“Thank you.” I rearrange the picture back on the wall and then hold out my hand. “Calder, also known as Wanda, the fairy princess.”
Chuckling, she takes my hand in hers and says, “Rachel, also known as . . .hell, I don’t have a fairy name, and now feel like I’m missing out.”
“All the cool kids have fairy names.”
“Apparently.” She crosses her arms over her chest and looks me up and down. “You know, it takes a very confident man to strut around in your outfit.”
“Confident or desperate to put a smile on his daughter’s face.”
“I think both.” She eyes my hand and says, “From the lack of ring, I’m going to say there is no wife?”
“You’re assuming right.” Is she about to . . . ask me out? I don’t think I’ve ever had a girl ask me out before. I�
�ve had women throw themselves at me because I’m a professional hockey player, but from what I can detect from Rachel, she for one doesn’t recognize me and two, doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who just throws herself at men.
“And there is no husband in the picture either?”
Laughing out loud, I shake my head. “Definitely no husband. Straight and single.”
“Hmm.” Her hand plays at the base of her neck as I await her next move. “Well, Calder, it was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t forget to polish your tiara, a foggy headpiece is an ugly headpiece.” She taps me on the shoulder and starts to walk away, leaving me in a wave of what the fuck.
“Hey, hold up.” I jog after her and when she turns toward me, I’m hit with an unsettling yearning. For the first time in a long time, I actually want to spend some time with a woman, with her wit, with those beautiful eyes. Clearing my throat, I ask, “By any chance, would you be willing to go out on a date with Wanda?”
Shit, why did I say Wanda? The guys would just about roast me right now if they were hearing this conversation.
“Wanda?” She raises a questioning brow in my direction. Yeah, she doesn’t want to go out with Wanda. I don’t blame her.
Shucking the tiara and undoing my nipple covering, I tuck them in my back pocket and try to look like the masculine defender I am on the ice. Speaking in a deeper voice than normal, I repeat, “Would you like to go on a date with me? You know, since you asked about my relationship status and all.”
Eyeing me up and down, the wheels spinning in her head, she says, “You know, I’ve never picked up a fairy princess outside of the men’s bathroom before . . .”
Why do I feel like this is a moment that will forever be engrained in my memory, the day I tried to ask a girl out wearing a tiara and fucking fairy wings?
“Is that a bad thing?” I stick my hands in my front pockets and try to flex my arms at the same time, showing off my triceps. Yes, I’ve sunken to that level. I have to display any ounce of my masculinity I have.
Her lips twist to the side, it’s evident she’s trying to hold back a smile. “I think for a lot of women it is, but for me, I find it intriguing.”
“Sooo . . . is that a yes?” I wait on bated breath for her answer.
“You know, Calder, I think it is.”
A large smile spreads across my lips as I pull my phone out of my pocket, unlock it, and hand it to her. “Put your phone number in there and I’ll call you tonight, how does that sound?”
“Call, huh? That’s very old fashioned of you. I’m so used to a text, a call might be a little intimidating.”
I shrug. “Old fashioned isn’t a bad thing, just means under all this glittery dust and pink bedazzles, there’s a real gentleman waiting to take you out.”
She finishes typing her information into my phone. “A real charmer. My, my, my, I might just have scored myself a real winner outside the bathrooms of a donut and noodle joint. No one will ever believe me.”
“Especially if you tell them the man you scored got your attention by bitch slapping you with his fairy wings.”
She chuckles and shakes her head in disbelief. “You are so incredibly right. I might just have to make up a story. Maybe something like I met you outside the library, where I tripped and fell and you caught me and my books before we wound up diving head first into oncoming traffic. A hero, that’s how I could describe you. A true, spur-of-the-moment, meant-to-be-there kind of hero.”
I pull on the elastic of my fairy wings and snap it against my chest. “That’s what I am, a true hero.”
“I believe it.” Her eyes soften. “You probably are to that little girl of yours.” Patting my arm, she says, “I look forward to your call tonight. Until then, have fun with your daughter and don’t eat too many donuts. I love a good set of abs.”
Leaving with a brush to my arm from her fingertips, I call out, “A donut isn’t going to change these abs, I can promise you that.”
Walking backwards, she says, “We’ll just have to see.”
Well damn.
Commence countdown until Shea goes to sleep.
Chapter 2
CALDER
“Do I wear something nice?”
“What? Why would you wear something nice?” Hayden, my best friend and teammate asks. He’s a rookie this season and even though I’m older than him and have more experience, we’ve quickly bonded through the season and now he’s the guy I go to for everything.
“I don’t know. It just seems like something I should do. I took a shower, so I smell good.”
“Dude,” Hayden deadpans on the phone. “It’s a phone call. It’s not an actual date, you’re just going to be talking to her, it’s not like you’re going to be dry humping on your kitchen counter while she licks your Adam’s apple.”
“Have you had someone lick your Adam’s apple lately? Why is that something you would say?”
Frustration comes through the line as he sighs. “I’m trying to help you here, man. There is no need to get dressed in anything nice, just make sure your dick isn’t hanging out, because to me that seems a little inappropriate.”
“Why is that inappropriate?”
“I don’t know, you just met girl, talking on the phone with your dick out almost seems like something a pervert would do. Like she’s telling you about her day and you’re over there on the other end, legs spread on the couch, your nuts snuggling against the fabric, and your cock bobbing up and down, just doesn’t seem right man.”
Naked phone talk with someone I barely know does seem odd, not that I planned on being naked for the conversation, but from the “pretty” picture Hayden just painted for me, I’m one hundred percent sure I won’t be dangling my balls against the couch while talking to her.
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to just put some sweats on.” I sigh and run a hand over my face. “Why am I so goddamn nervous? It’s a phone call. It’s not like I’m going on an actual date with her tonight.”
“Maybe it’s because you haven’t been interested in anyone for a really long time, someone you actually want to take out on a date.”
“For good reason,” I answer, thinking about Shea and all of my reasoning for putting my personal life on hold.
“She is old enough to understand that you’re going to go on dates, that shouldn’t be an issue anymore.”
“I don’t want her to become attached. Her mom has already made things tough on me, bringing a possible date into the mix will make it that much harder. Plus, our schedule is fucking insane, how am I really going to date someone when I’m barely home? And who the hell knows if this girl wants to be in the spotlight? Because you know the minute the media catches wind that I’m taking someone out, they’re going to be all over her. I signed up for that kind of life but she didn’t. I should really just call her and tell her never mind, or hell, maybe I just don’t call her at all. Not get her hopes up, because you and I both know this is going to be a very bad idea.”
I take a deep breath just as Hayden says, “Are you done?”
“This is a bad idea.” I continue. “Besides the fact that I have no idea what to wear for a phone call anymore, I don’t know what I was thinking trying to pick someone up while I was wearing a bedazzled tiara.” I slouch on my couch and cover my eyes with my hand, trying to relieve the tension I can feel forming in my head. “What if she just felt pity for me? You know, look at the poor man dressed up like a lady, calling himself Wanda and flapping his fairy wings for attention. Maybe she was throwing me a bone.”
“Dude—”
“And Hayden, she was hot. No not just hot, but beautiful. So fucking beautiful and she had a quick tongue on her, good sense of humor. And her body, tits for days man.”
“Calder—”
“And who wants someone with a daughter? We’re young, she probably has better things to do than be some pseudo-mom for my daughter, especially when I’m out of town all the time. And who’s to say they’ll get along? They might hate each
other, and then what? I like this girl but can’t go out with her because what happens if Rachel says she likes Paw Patrol more than Sophia the First? That’s just asking for a living nightmare.”
“Will you shut the fuck up,” Hayden yells into the phone. “Fuck, man.” His tone and agitation are evident from the huff of breath he takes before saying, “It’s a phone call, that’s it. You’re not marrying this girl, she’s not moving in with you, and she doesn’t have to meet Shea any time soon. If you liked this girl, just take it one step at a time. I know you’re a planner and you have a daughter to think about, but there is no need to do any worrying when you’re just going to make a phone call. Take the first step man and worry about the rest later.”
“I don’t know.” I drag my hand down my face. “Am I ready for this? Rachel, she’s not a girl you take home for a night, you know? She’s more than that. I haven’t really dated since Shea was born, I haven’t had time between her and hockey.”
“And you’re a lonely mother fucker who watches 90 Day Fiancé at night once his daughter is asleep. It’s time, man.”
He’s right, I’m too invested in Antonio and Nikki’s lives.
“You know I’m right, I can tell by the silence that you know I’m right, don’t be shy, just come out and say it. Say Hayden, even though you’re younger than me and are a rookie with one hell of a slap shot, you know more about life than I do.”
Now he’s stretching it.
“Pushing it with that slap shot stuff. I’ve seen better.”
“Ha, okay man. Seriously though, stop coming up with excuses and just call her, alright? I can help you sort out the bullshit later, just go on the date and see where it goes.”
Team Player: A Sports Romance Anthology Page 27