by Grey, S. R.
He’d broken me again, this time with his words. The first had been him not wanting to acknowledge his daughter.
Overwhelmed and feeling small, I started to cry. This prick had me by the ovaries.
I wanted to reach through the phone and punch him in the head.
I wanted to scream and rant.
But the only thing I could do was call him the hell out.
Summoning strength for Ava’s sake, I hissed, “How dare you threaten to take Ava away from me. You never wanted her, you’ve said so yourself again and again. You never even call to ask about her. Never, Drew. Not once have you contacted me about her. It’s always all about you. You don’t care about her at all. Yet you dare to threaten m—”
“Settle down, Eliza. I’m not going to do anything if we can work this out. I’m simply reminding you of what’s at stake. I consistently pay what we agreed upon. And I leave you two alone. So now I’m only asking for you to keep that baby away from the game. And for you to continue to keep the fact that I’m her father a secret. If you can do those two simple things, I won’t come after you.”
“You make me sick,” I murmured.
I’d never planned to take Ava to the game he was referring to, but this threw a wrench in my plans to tell Benny about her. He’d surely ask who the dad was, right? Maybe he wouldn’t, but if he did, what would I say?
“So we have an agreement?” he prompted when I remained quiet.
Before I agreed to anything he was going to hear about his daughter, whether he wanted to or not. It was the least he could do.
“Ava’s doing great, by the way,” I began, still choked up but determined. “She rolls over on her own now. And she smiles so much, especially when she hears music. She’s a happy little baby. She’s bright and alert and just the sweetest—”
He cut me off. Cut me off so he didn’t have to hear about the child he’d help create. I didn’t listen to half of what he said next, but the bits and pieces that came through sounded like more bullshit about him and his career milestones.
Blah, blah, blah…
I finally agreed to his stupid terms, and he let me go. But I couldn’t stop shaking. Drew had rattled me. Just knowing what he could do to me and Ava, like split us apart, scared the living crap out of me.
I’d never needed a friend to talk to more than I did in that moment.
So I called Lainey.
I didn’t know what I was going to say, but with the way I was feeling I probably would’ve confessed the whole sordid tale to her, Drew be damned.
Good thing I got her voice mail. I remembered then that she was out of town for an interview.
“Shit,” I murmured as I disconnected.
If I’d gotten to Benny before Drew had called, he’d already know about Ava. Then I could’ve called him and told him what had just happened. He’d probably volunteer to kick the shit out of Drew.
That made me smile, especially since Benny would have the perfect opportunity to kick his ass legitimately—on the ice at the upcoming Wolves-Stars game.
I couldn’t involve him, though. Not now. I sincerely feared what Drew would do if I told his secret to, of all people, a fellow professional hockey player. If Dickhead found out, he’d wreak all sorts of havoc in my and Ava’s lives, just like he promised.
I certainly didn’t want him cutting off payments or, God forbid, fighting for custody. He obviously had no interest in his daughter, and I knew in my heart that if he ever had her full time, he’d just pass her off to a nanny. It scared me to think of how horrible Ava’s life would become if that jackass ever got custody of her.
One thing was made abundantly clear that day—I was pretty much fucked.
I feared sharing Ava’s existence with Benny.
And I feared not sharing it with him.
There was no good outcome to any of this.
Suddenly needing to see my baby more than anything else in the universe, I went into her nursery and picked her up.
“I love you so much,” I whispered to her as I held her close to my heart.
It was up to me and me alone to make sure Ava grew up feeling loved and treasured. Her father wasn’t going to provide any of that.
I had a sense that someone else might, though. Despite his past faults, I knew in my heart that Benny would make a great stepfather. He carried a lot of genuine goodness in his heart.
Too bad it was a silly fantasy to even entertain that he’d have a chance to be a father to Ava. That could never happen now. Drew had made sure of it.
I rocked Ava in my arms and began to cry.
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I told her about the call. I apologized over and over for Drew being her father.
She, of course, had no idea what I was going on about. She just looked up at me and cooed.
And that just made me cry even harder.
Samson Has Nothing on Me
Graham called early the next week to see if I wanted to grab lunch.
“Friday good for you?” he asked.
“Yep,” I replied.
I hadn’t attended a meeting in a couple of weeks. I presumed this was his roundabout way of checking in on me.
Good thing I was doing great.
There was no drinking, no illegal substances, and certainly no random women. I couldn’t wait to tell him how only life itself had me flying high these days, thanks to Eliza.
I was just so damn into that girl.
I also planned to share with him my new status as a guy in a committed relationship. Graham was sure to be happy I’d found such an amazing woman, one who was fine with knowing every detail of my sordid past and still willing to accept me for, well, me.
How amazing was that?
I was so up and ready for Friday’s lunch that I arrived way too early. With an hour to spare, I sat in my parked car and opened an app to see what was of interest in the area.
What intrigued me immediately was seeing there was a barbershop only a block away.
That’s where I need to go.
The recent positive changes in my life called for something monumental. I’d already been itching to do something to commemorate how far I’d come. I was considering a new tattoo, but something seemed more fitting now—I’d shed my wild past by shedding my wild hair.
I hopped out of my car and practically ran down to the barbershop. I was that excited and ready to have my long blond locks lopped off.
“Give me a buzz cut,” I told the kindly old barber the second I was seated in his chair.
“You sure you want to do that, young man?” he asked, peering at me uneasily from the reflection in the mirror on the wall.
Ah, crap, he knew who I was. That explained his reticence.
There were fans, and quite a few of them at that, who believed my strength on the ice came from my long hair. Not unlike Samson in that old biblical tale.
“Dude…” My eyes met his as I shook my head and laughed. “It’s all good, I promise.”
“I don’t know,” he hedged. “I don’t want to be the reason why the Wolves’s season tanks.”
I assured him nothing like that would happen.
“We have a good team, man. And I’m having a great season. Shorter hair won’t affect my play. If anything, it’ll make me more aerodynamic.”
That last was bullshit, but he seemed to buy it.
“Okay, if you’re absolutely certain, I’ll do it.”
I handed him the scissors. “Go for it,” I urged.
There was no backing out now.
Over the next thirty minutes, I chilled in the barbershop chair, watching swaths of blond hair rain down onto the floor. When the old barber finished cutting, he brought out an electric shaver and buzzed down what little bit was left close to my head.
When it was all over, I felt cool and bare. And I liked it.
Peering at my reflection, I ran a hand over my stubbly scalp. There was some scruff on my face that matched, and I thought it went well with the cl
osely shorn look.
“I like it,” I told the barber, nodding approvingly.
He blew out a breath, relieved.
“Good luck the rest of the season,” he said as I stood.
“Thanks, man.”
I tried to pay for the cut, but he was having none of it. “This one’s on the house,” he said.
I was sure to give him a huge tip to make up for the free cut.
As I was leaving, I told him my next goal would be for him.
“There’ll be no team slump just because you cut my hair.”
“I hope not,” he said.
“There won’t be,” I murmured before I left the barbershop.
As I started down to the restaurant, I felt the need to assure myself, “Superstitions are silly.”
I didn’t really believe that, not after what had happened when I’d joked about touching Brent’s sticks.
“Yeah, we lost the game that night. Shit.”
I hoped like hell my strength didn’t really lie in my hair, or we were all fucked.
To appease all the gods—hockey or otherwise—when I came upon a ladder where workers were changing a lightbulb at a strorefront, I made sure not to walk under it.
It couldn’t hurt, right?
I was really starting to stress, so when I stepped into the restaurant and saw Graham was already there, I let out a giant relieved breath. I was ready to talk about anything to get my mind off jinxes and superstitions.
It took a minute for Graham to recognize me.
Finally, wide-eyed, he said, “Whoa, what the hell happened to your hair, Perry?”
With a huge grin on my face—I’d managed to shock the usually unflappable Graham—I replied, “It’s gone, man.”
“I can see that. But what prompted such a major change?”
The hostess arrived then, so my explanation had to wait. But once we were seated, I tried to provide Graham with a solid reason.
“About this change…” I gestured to my head. “A lot has happened lately. I felt like it was time to let go of the past in some symbolic way.”
“So there went the hair, huh?” Graham replied.
“Yep.”
Looking suddenly concerned, he asked, “Everything’s okay, though, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, yeah, things are better than ever.”
I filled him in then, getting him up to speed on all things Eliza. I’d gotten to the part that she was different from any other woman I’d known when our lunch entrees arrived.
“Bottom line is that I really care about her,” I stated proudly as I picked up my burger.
He leaned back. “Wow, I can tell.”
“She’s just so genuine,” I continued after taking a bite. “She’s simple, but in a totally good way.”
“Tell me more,” he said.
“Well, Eliza is cute…and sexy…and crazy fun. But the best part is she’s got to be the most honest, down-to-earth person I’ve ever met.”
Softly, he said, “This Eliza sounds like someone really special.”
“She is, man. She’s the kind of woman you hold onto, that’s for sure. You’re going to like her, Graham. She makes me want to keep moving forward in really positive ways.”
He canted his head to the left, a signature Graham move. “How so, Benny?”
“For one thing—and you’re gonna love this one—she got me to get rid of my directory.”
He dropped his fork into the giant salad he was eating. “No way.”
“See,” I laughed. “I knew I’d get you with that one. But, yeah, we actually burned it together. It’s nothing but a pile of ash out in the fire pit at the back of my house.”
Graham shook his head. “It’s hard to believe, Benny.”
“Believe it, man. My days of nailing puck bunnies are finished.”
“Shit. This girl really is something special,” Graham marveled.
“She’s the kind of girl you fall in love with,” I murmured, not even thinking when I said it.
That was okay. Maybe it was how I needed to recognize the truth. What I’d blurted out was me being honest—I could really see myself falling in love with Eliza.
In fact, I was pretty much already there.
Graham saw the look on my face, and smiling, he held up his water glass and said, “Congratulations, Benny.”
I had only two words to say back to him, “Thanks, man.”
Secrets Deepen
Benny and I started spending a ton of time together. And every minute of it was nothing short of spectacular. Well, mostly every minute of it was good. The first few days after he’d gotten his hair cut were a little rocky.
That was all my fault. Still reeling from my phone conversation with Drew, I was freaked out by Benny’s haircut. It made me question why he’d done such a thing out of the blue.
Was it for some negative reason I’d yet to discover?
Damn Drew. He’s making me paranoid.
The night after Benny did the deed, we met out for a late-night dinner date. I didn’t know yet what he’d done.
Needless to say, when he walked into the diner, I sat there in the booth I’d procured for us earlier, staring at him in shock.
“Oh my God,” I blurted out when he sat down across from me. “You chopped off all your beautiful hair!”
“Aw, crap.” He ran his hand over his nearly bald head. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t,” I admitted, composing myself.
Grudgingly, I admitted, “It actually suits you really well, gives you a sexy kind of vibe.”
It was true, and he said, “Thanks, babe.”
The closely cropped hair combined with the tiny bit of stubble he was sporting made him look rugged and just so freaking male. Several women had turned around to look at him, all with appreciation in their eyes. Not because he was Benjamin Perry, hockey player extraordinaire, but because this new version of him was positively scorching.
Even much younger women were enamored, as evidenced when a girl of about sixteen approached our booth and asked if she could take a quick selfie with Benny.
“You’re really rocking your new look, Mr. Perry,” she said.
“Thanks. But could a picture wait till after dinner?” Benny gestured to the menus we’d not yet looked at. “If you don’t mind holding off for about an hour, I’ll let you take as many pics as you want.”
Looking dejected, she replied, “I would wait, but I’m here with my parents. We already ate and they’re gonna want to leave any minute.”
She peered down at the #29 Wolves jersey she was wearing. It was Benny’s number.
“Maybe I’ll just run into you some other time,” she mumbled.
Benny glanced over at me. “Would you mind?” he mouthed.
I didn’t mind. The girl was sweet, young, and unthreatening, so I whispered, “Of course not.”
The girl heard my assent and started bouncing up and down on her Chuck-clad toes. “Oh my God, you guys are so nice. Thank you so much!”
Benny slid out of the booth to stand next to the girl for the photo. She leaned in to him, smiling, her smartphone held high in the air.
It was cute. She was so tiny that Benny had to scrunch down to fit in the frame.
The girl snapped her pic, and then motioned for me to join them for the next one.
“You should be in this one,” she said. “You’re Mr. Perry’s girlfriend, right?”
Though we’d never officially declared our status, mostly because we were still keeping the fact that we were even dating under wraps, I assumed we were indeed a couple.
Nonetheless, it was wonderful to hear Benny reply, “She sure is.”
Feeling giddy, I slid out of the booth and stepped over to be in the picture with him and the girl.
I spared not a second thought about it. I don’t think he did either. The pic was snapped, and the girl thanked us, and then she left.
The dinner seemed to go by quickly after that, too fast
to really “talk.”
By the time Benny and I returned to his house for some Netflix and chill, I was back to ruminating on the motivation for his haircut.
I decided right away that the “chill” part was going to have to wait. I needed to know if his action had been a response to something bad before any sexing got started.
“Let’s watch something first,” I said as he hovered over me, ready to kiss me, on the sofa.
He pulled back. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“No.” I was unsure how to jump into what was worrying me, so I added, “I just feel like relaxing for a bit.”
“Okay, babe.”
He sat back and turned on the TV, and I snuggled into the corner of the sofa. I tried to get into the movie he selected, but just couldn’t.
“You want to pick something else?” he said ten minutes in.
He must’ve noticed my lack of laughter, even at the funny parts.
“No,” I replied.
Benny stretched out on the sofa and rested his head in my lap. “You sure?”
“Yes.” I placed my hand on his buzzed hair. “It just feels so different now,” I murmured.
He glanced up at me. “I know, right? It really does.”
“Do you like it?”
“I do. It’s way cooler.”
“I bet.”
We resumed watching the movie. Well, Benny did. I was busy gearing up to get to the bottom of this big change he’d made.
“You know,” I began, clearing my throat, “it’s kind of a major thing when someone has hair as long as yours…and they get it all chopped off on a whim.”
Benny hit Pause and rolled onto his back. Peering up at me, he frowned. I could tell he was worried.
“You really don’t like it, do you?” He smiled sadly. “You were just saying nice things at the restaurant to make me feel good.”
“No, no, that’s not true. I do like it, Benny. You look super-hot. I’m just worried about the motivation behind the cut.”
He sat up. “Ah, you want to know why I did it, eh?”
“Yeah, Benny, I kind of do.”
“Well, first you need to believe there was nothing negative behind it. I promise you that. In fact, I got it all chopped off for a really good reason.”