by Smith, Mary
“Look,” he said, exhaling deeply, and raking his hands through his hair, “I told you how I feel, so let’s just go and have sex, okay?”
My blood began to boil. Who did he think he was? “Wes, let me explain something about me: I don’t just fall into some guy's bed because he used the ‘L’ word. Now, I like you, and I think we have a great time together, but I’m not going to fuck you because you said you love me. Sorry.” I grabbed my purse and quickly left before he could say anything else.
Where the hell did that come from? As I drove to Andrew’s house, I thought about the past week that we had spent together. We had made out a lot, but I had always stopped it before it went too far. I wasn’t ready to sleep with him, and I certainly wasn’t going to sleep with him because he said he loved me. That line never worked on me. And that’s what it felt like—a line.
I needed Lindsay and a lot of alcohol. I had to park down the street because everyone was parked all around Andrew’s place. The bass of the music began to beat in my chest as soon as I got out of the car. I walked up to the house and pushed through the crowd, trying to find Lindsay.
I finally found her, with Franks, who was laughing with Andrew. I had never noticed how Andrew’s face lit up when he laughed. That was probably because when he was around me, I was making him work harder than his hockey coach, and there wasn't much time to joke around.
“Katie!” Lindsay yelled and waved at me. Andrew turned and looked at me, his smile still on his face. When I looked into his eyes, I almost forgot the reason I was.
“Hey.” I hugged Lindsay when I reached her.
“Where is Wes?” she asked, looking behind me.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t ask, let’s just drink.”
“Oh no. Tell me later?”
“Yep.”
“Here,” Andrew said, handing me a cup. I looked at it questioningly, not sure if I should take it. “I promise, I just made it, and there is nothing in it but a lot of alcohol.”
“Perfect.” I took it from him and chugged it. He wasn't kidding about the alcohol. It burned my throat, and down my chest, but I didn’t care.
“Katie, are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice full of concern.
I nodded, and went to the bar to make another drink. Wes’ “I love you” kept replaying my head, and I didn’t want it to. I saw a bottle of unopened tequila. I silently said thank you to the God of Alcohol for having that waiting for me, and popped the seal. I filled my glass with a double shot and chugged it.
Andrew came up behind me, and whispered in my ear. “Katie, come with me.” I held onto the bottle tightly and followed him up the stairs.
He always kept his bedroom door locked during parties, because he didn’t want anyone up there. He unlocked it and we walked in.
“Okay, tell me, what is going on? Did Wes hurt you?” He crossed his arms. I noticed that his biceps were tight, and about to rip through the shirt he was wearing.
“I’m sure you don’t want to hear this, and besides,” I took another drink, “Wes is your teammate. I don’t think he would appreciate me talking to you about this.”
“Wes is my teammate —I can’t change that—but you are my friend, and if he hurt you, I will kill him.”
“Why is that?” I inquired. “I mean, every time I mention his name, everyone gets this horrid look on their faces.”
Andrew stared at me. For a moment, I thought that he was going to tell me, but instead he shook his head. “I just don’t like him.”
I sighed, “Fine.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He placed his hand on my leg.
“I promise. Let’s go get our drink on.” I winked at him and got up. Even though Wes’ words were still lingering, I needed to drink, dance, and forget about it.
Chapter 8 – Andrew
For the next hour, I watched as Katie and Lindsay danced to every song, and drank heavily. I had never seen her drunk before. At one point, Lindsay was holding her upright because she couldn’t stand.
“Hey, I’m ready for this party to be over,” I told Franks, who nodded back to me. I had to leave early, actually in a few hours, and I wanted some rest. He went over to the deejay and announced that everyone had to go home.
Lindsay was sitting with Katie on the living room couch as the crowd dispersed, and they were talking and giggling. After the deejay left, I shut and locked the door.
Franks went through, room by room, to make sure that there weren’t any stragglers. “House is empty,” Franks announced.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get her home and up the stairs in this condition,” Lindsay said. At this point, Katie was practically snoring on Lindsay shoulder.
“Give her to me,” I reached behind her knees, gripped her waist, and picked her up, fireman style.
“What are you doing with her?” She jumped to her feet, blocking my path.
“I’m going to take her to my room.”
Lindsay looked at me skeptically.
“Hey, you’ll be right across the hall in Franks’ room. I give you my word, she’ll be fine.” I tried to step around her, but she wouldn’t let me past.
“Let me tell you something, Andrew Moore, if anything happens to her while she’s in your bed, I will cut off every appendage that you have, and I’ll start with the one between your legs.” Lindsay’s jaw was set tight, and her eyes narrowed. I knew she meant business.
“I promise nothing will happen to her.” I meant it too. I didn’t want anything to happen to Katie.
“Okay, then.” She stepped aside, and I carried Katie up the stairs to my room. The door was still unlocked from earlier, so I was able back in and push open the door.
I pulled the comforter and sheets back, removed her boots, and set her gently on the bed. I covered her up and then went into my bathroom to change. I put on a pair of flannel pants, and quickly washed my face, before getting into bed.
Katie was lying on her back, her thick, full lips slightly parted. I had an overwhelming urge to kiss her. I brushed a few strands of hair off her forehead and looked down at her beautiful face. Yes, I knew she was attractive, but I hadn't noticed her flawless skin, thick eyelashes, or rosy cheeks.
I rolled away from her and turned off my light. The room was dimly lit from the street lamp outside. I thought about tomorrow, and our first road game. I was looking forward to showing my talent on the road, to more people, but I was sad to be away from fans and friends. Plus, road games were harder to win.
I felt Katie turn and snuggle close to me. She rested her head on my chest, and for the first time, I inhaled her amazing scent. It was like a strawberry patch. I felt like an awkward teenager because I didn’t know where to put my hand. I didn’t want her to wake up and think I was groping her. In the end, I rested it on her hip, and tried to fall asleep.
**
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
What was that noise?
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
“What the hell is that?” I sat up on my elbows as Katie rolled over to her phone.
“It’s my alarm,” she said groggily.
“Birds? You wake up every morning to the sounds of . . . birds?”
“I like nature sounds, so sue me.” She rolled back on her side. I saw through the dim light that her shirt had ridden up, exposing her flat stomach. “Please tell me we didn’t have sex.” She covered her face with her hands.
“Damn, was I that bad, you don’t even remember?” I teased her. She groaned loudly as I chuckled at her. “Katie, we didn’t have sex.” I leaned in closer to her ear. “Trust me, if we did, you’d remember.”
She scoffed as she removed her hands. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, huh?”
“Wow.” I moved back from her. “You know how to give me a vote of confidence.” I rolled over and saw my alarm clock. “What the hell? I don’t have to be up yet.” I could’ve slept another hour.
“My alarm was set to make sure I was here in time to wake y
ou up,” she explained. “Now, why am I in your bed?”
I turned my head to look at her. “You passed out last night, so I brought you up here.”
She was silent for a moment. “Thanks,” she said, giving me a small smile.
We lay there in my bed, not saying anything. I It was nice having someone in my bed that wasn’t just after my trust fund, or my penis. Katie was here for a different reason. Sure, she passed out, but Katie was special to me.
“Andrew, can I ask you a serious question?” Her tone was somber.
“Of course,” I replied honestly.
“Why don’t you like Wes? I can feel that there's something going on that I should know about.” Her voice was almost a whisper, but I could hear the plea in it.
“How about I make a deal with you?” I didn’t want her to hear just my side of the story; I wanted her to learn the truth for herself.
“Okay.”
“When we're gone for the road games, just Google Wes’ name and mine. Everything you need to know is on ESPN and NHL Network.” I stared at the ceiling above me because I didn’t want to see her face.
I reached for her hand, and laced her fingers through mine. I was comfortable with our hands together, just lying there together. “Why are you being so nice, Andrew?” she asked, laying her head on my shoulder.
“I’m always nice,” I told her.
“I guess you’re right.” She squeezed my hand.
“Why are you being so sweet?”
“Hey, jerk.” She moved away from my shoulder, and lightly slapped it. “I’m always sweet.”
I chuckled at her as I got out of the bed and headed to my bathroom. I knew I didn’t have to be up yet, but I couldn't go back to sleep. And, if I lay in that bed with Katie any longer, I didn’t think I could maintain our professional relationship.
I jumped into the shower and quickly got ready. I tried not to think about Katie still lying in my bed, or the fact that she looked sexy with her bed-head and sexy, groggy voice, or how she would react once she found out about Wes. I focused on the game tonight.
If she researched it on her own, then maybe she'd realize what an ass he really was. Why did I care if she stayed with him? I could get any girl I wanted. Of course, that hadn't always worked out for me. I'd never had a girlfriend in the old-fashioned sense. I'd just slept with them, maybe bought them a gift or two, and then hoped they never bothered me again.
Hell, maybe I’m more like Wes than I thought. I shook my head, knowing that wasn’t true. He was a liar and a cheater. I would’ve never done what he had done.
I felt the hot water turning cold, and knew it was time to get out. I toweled off, and slipped into a pair of dress slacks, before going back out to the bedroom.
Katie was sitting on the side of the bed. Her hair was on top of her head in a large puff, her legs were crossed, and she was staring at her phone.
“You’re not Googling, are you?” I questioned her.
“No,” she said, looking up at me. “I’m reading a text from Wes. Ugh, I can feel a headache coming on already. I’m not sure if it’s because of the texts or a hangover.” Katie moaned as she rubbed her temples.
What did the texts say?” Normally, I didn’t pry, much less care about Wes' affairs, but this was Katie he was messing with.
“Just the typical “I’m sorry” texts.” She threw her phone down onto the nightstand. “I’ll worry about that later. I need to get home.”
I walked over to her and took her hand again. “Just stay here. I’m getting ready to leave, so the bed is all yours. Plus, Lindsay is across the hall with Franks.”
“Thanks again, Andrew. I mean it.” She leaned into me a little, and for a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. And I realized I wanted her to.
“Um,” she cleared her throat and took a step back. “You have a bus to catch.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I grabbed my bag and walked out of my bedroom before anything else could be said.
Chapter 9 – Katie
Click. Click. Click.
I stood in the middle of the campus courtyard taking pictures of the almost bare trees. Nature shots were my favorite to take, because they were real. There was no mask of makeup, or clothes to hide behind. It was the truth, plain and clear.
I pulled my thick winter coat and wool scarf tight against me as the wind began to pick up. Even though the sun was shining bright, it almost looked like a ghost town around campus. On Sundays, at this time of the morning, most students were still sleeping. I sat down on an empty bench, just trying to wrap my head around everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.
I almost kissed Andrew. Why? When I put my head on his shoulder, something was different. It felt . . . right. When he was holding my hand, I had never sensed that type of contentment before, with anyone. Then there was Wes, who kept sending text after text about how sorry he was for being a jerk .
The cold wind was too much for me today. I packed my camera back into my bag and walked to the apartment. I couldn’t get Andrew or Wes out of my head. I still hadn’t Googled anything, because I wasn’t sure what I was going to find. Part of me wanted to know, but another part didn’t want to confront whatever demons lay in Wes’ closet.
I strolled into our warm apartment and saw Lindsay lounging on the couch, chomping on an apple.
“Having a good morning?” she asked, smiling brightly at me.
“Don’t ask.” I dropped into the chair.
“Googled anything yet?” she inquired.
I shook my head. When I finally got out of Andrew’s bed on Saturday, Lindsay and Franks were already up. On our way home, I told her all about Andrew, Wes, and everything that had happened that morning.
“Still in love with Andrew?”
“I am not in love with Andrew.”
“Are you sure?” she asked in a singsong voice.
“Shut up.” I yelled at her. I wasn’t in love with Andrew. I sure as hell didn’t love Wes, but something was eating at me, and I couldn’t put a finger on it.
I stared at the gleaming white screen with Google scrolled across the top. I typed Wes’ and Andrew's names into the search bar. I closed my eyes as I hit enter, and took a deep breath. It was now or never.
I opened my eyes to see Wes’ face staring back at me. I clicked on the first article, and read about Wesley Crown, goalie for the Sweden Junior’s league was stripped of his gold medal and title due to trying to intentionally hurt an opposing player.
Wes tried to hurt someone?
I read through the article and saw that it was Andrew that he was trying to hurt. There was a YouTube link and I clicked on it. It was there that I saw the game was tied at zero, and the regular game had ended, and overtime was about to start.
Andrew was skating toward his end, when Wes came up and shoved him. Andrew pushed back, and it looked like they were arguing about something. Then Wes’ face turned bright red, and began whacking Andrew with his goalie stick.
I gasp as I watched Andrew fall to the ground. The bench cleared of the players, and the refs tried to break up the massive fight.
Andrew needed help off the ice, and Wes was kicked out of the game. Their backups finished the game, and Sweden won.
In the YouTube videos, that I saw, Andrew said that Wes shouldn’t be allowed in Junior’s anymore. His face was so covered with rage, it almost scared me.
The next article was Wes standing next to, what I assumed to be, a lawyer. It stated that Wes was no longer allowed to play in Juniors’ or any minor league in Sweden. However, he was allowed to play NCAA hockey, if the school allowed him too.
I continue on to see North Maple had offered Wes a spot as a backup to Andrew, but his pads would have to be measured before, and after every game. The NCAA had strict rules against cheating, but North Maple gave him a second chance. There were several more articles stating that he had loss all chances of being in the NHL, and the Sweden team still held onto their medals, as US
A was still second.
I couldn’t believe it. On top of that, he was playing for Sweden. Why? Maybe that league was different than, for example, the Olympics. No wonder Andrew hated him so much. To face the one person who prevented you from getting attaining a goal that you had worked so hard for, had to be hard on him.
“So, I see you finally looked at it?”
I turned to see Lindsay falling down onto my bed. “Did you know?”
“I couldn’t wait like you did. I Googled it the moment you told me.”
“Of course you did, Ms. Nosy,” I teased her.
“So, what do you think?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, Wes ruined Andrew’s chance at winning the game. Plus, how horrible is it for Andrew for Wes to be his teammate? It’s crazy.”
We both sat there in silence. What I was going to do? My emotions were all over the place. I was hurt because Wes had lied to me, and I was mad at Andrew because he hadn't told me. Although maybe Andrew just didn’t want to talk about it.
I heard Lindsay’s phone alert her of a message. “Franks says that Andrew just got back.” I leapt out of my chair, grabbed my bag, and bolted out the door as if my legs had a mind of their own.
“Wait for me!” Lindsay yelled, as I raced to the BMW.
I started the car and bit down hard on my lip. I wanted to see Andrew. Why hadn’t he told me the truth about Wes himself? Lindsay jumped into the car, and I drove us over there.
I parked the car, cut off the engine, and sprinted to the door, as if zombies were chasing me. I burst through the door and heard the guys in the kitchen talking. When I rounded the corner, I saw Andrew standing by the counter, eating spaghetti.
“Hey, Katie,” he said, smiling at me. I jerked the fork and plate out of his hand and tossed them on the counter and yanked him by the arm, out of the kitchen.
“Have we not had this conversation before about manhandling?” Andrew asked as I hauled him up the stairs.
I didn't answer him. I pushed him into his bedroom and shut the door. I didn't know what to say now. A moment ago, I was going to yell at him for not telling me about Wes. Now, as I looked into his stunning blue eyes, I forgot what the hell I was going to say.