Erik

by Sawyer Bennett

  “I’m sorry—”

  She holds a palm out to me and shakes her head. “Don’t apologize again. I accept. I just wanted you to know why it pissed me off. And then running into you again on the plane, and you called me a “party girl,” which just dredged up all that old crap. I was a party girl and I’m not proud of it. But I’m not that person anymore. So I took it out on you. I wanted to make it clear I’m a different person these days.”

  “I’d like to think I’m different too,” I point out. “People can grow up and change a lot in five years.”

  She cocks an eyebrow at me, lips quirking.

  It makes me laugh. “All right…maybe I’m still a bit of a player these days.”

  “You’ve been sued in that sexual harassment lawsuit,” she points out.

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you read,” I admonish her. I had indeed been named in a lawsuit by Brooke’s crazy ex-friend but I didn’t expect anything to come out of it. I never touched the woman.

  “You’re right,” she replies quickly. “You’ve made a good point. Five years is a long time and your apology was sincere. How about we just let bygones be bygones?”

  She sticks her hand out for me to shake. She’d be horrified to know I’d rather pull her into my arms and kiss her, because nothing about this conversation has turned me off from her in the slightest. If anything, I want her more.

  But I place my hand in hers and she gives me a hearty pump. “Friends?”

  Not really what I want, but I’ll fucking take it. “Friends.”

  Chapter 5

  Blue

  The Carolina Cold Fury are the reigning league champions.

  Two years in a row, to be exact, which is why this game has everyone totally jazzed. The Vengeance has been a well-oiled machine the last few weeks and come into tonight’s matchup with a 10–3 record, which is the best in the entire league.

  So when you have the reigning champions and the brand-new leading expansion team playing for the first time, the atmosphere turns quite electric.

  The Cold Fury’s arena is super loud as the teams take their warm-up skate. Rock music is blaring while strobe and laser lights cut through the air around us. It compounds the exhilaration running through me because I have grown to love this sport in the short few weeks I’ve been working for the Vengeance. I had been to hockey games before when I lived out in Los Angeles because the two teams there—the LA Demons and the LA Dragons—were a big deal. I was an LA Demons fan and that had nothing to do with the fact that Erik Dalhbeck played for them during the time I lived there. It’s purely because their arena was closer to where I lived and nothing more.

  One of the perks of working on the team plane is that we get tickets to every single away game. Valerie, Sadie, Lyla, and I are all wearing Vengeance jerseys that the team’s owner, Dominik Carlson, provided for us. I’m wearing Tacker Hall’s jersey. Valerie, Lyla, and Sadie all chose to wear Bishop Scott’s jersey. They’re the two best players on the team and are natural leaders, which I guess is why they are captain and assistant captain, respectively.

  The teams finish their skate and head back to the locker room. People scurry out to the concessions to fill up with food and drink before the game starts. We had hit up the vendors before we found our seats so we stay put. I’m nibbling on some candied nuts and drinking a beer. Valerie and Lyla have wine and popcorn—weird combo—and Sadie went with a big hot dog, despite the fact we had an early dinner a few hours ago.

  I’m sitting in between Sadie and Valerie and Lyla is on the other side of Valerie.

  “God, I hope we win tonight,” Lyla says, her voice pitched a little high in her excitement. She’s the petite one in our group.

  “Tell me about it,” I reply, my nerves buzzing with pent up energy. “The game in Florida was exciting for sure, but this feels totally different, right?”

  “Right,” the women agree with me.

  The first game of this four-game road trip was in Miami against the Florida Spartans. Despite my years living in L.A., it’s still a bit weird to me that a state known for warmth and perpetual sunshine has a hockey team, but what do I know. We now have a team in sunny Phoenix.

  The Spartans game was good because Legend’s trade to the Vengeance was controversial. He had been the number one goalie for the first two years he played for them, but eventually started losing ice time to a hot new rookie. They gave him up in the expansion draft, which I suppose has to sting a little.

  Joke’s on them, though. Legend has been playing the best hockey of his life since coming to the Vengeance and leads the league with a 2.24 goals against average. Just as I’ve seen so clearly with the other players on this team, they all seem to want to prove to their former mates that they are doing just fine in Phoenix.

  Legend shut the Spartans out and their fans were very quiet by the end of the game. It was a repeat performance against the Atlanta Sting which was the next stop on our trip. Legend shut them out as well.

  But tonight is definitely different because we’re playing the Cold Fury, and they’re going to be one of our toughest opponents this year.

  Sadie leans forward to look past me to Valerie, and says in a voice that should be a little bit lower, “So how was your hookup with Legend last night?”

  I choke on my nuts and give Sadie a sharp nudge in her ribs. “Lower your voice.”

  Sadie shrugs. “Valerie doesn’t care who knows that she’s banging the Legend Bay. Particularly the way he’s played the last two games.”

  Valerie’s eyes sparkle devilishly and she shoots us a wicked smile. “It’s true. I don’t mind if anyone knows that. And to answer your question, last night was unbelievable. That man has stamina.”

  That starts a flurry of questions from Sadie and the two women talk about the nitty-gritty details of what went down last night between Legend and Valerie, which, apparently, included a naughty use of his neckties and bedposts.

  I wonder if stamina is something that is common among all hockey players. Erik is the only one I’ve ever been with but I remember I could barely walk the next morning when I left his hotel room. We went at it all night and it was like we couldn’t get enough of each other.

  Honestly, it’s why I thought we had a connection. It’s what made me so excited he wanted to see me the next night. Because I had never been with a man before who was so attentive and so focused on me. I clearly thought it meant more than it did.

  I can’t help but smile to myself as I think about the last few days and how radically things have changed between Erik and me.

  I’m actually a little embarrassed and ashamed with how much I had let Erik affect me in a negative way. I had by no means been holding an obsessive grudge over the last five years, and the truth is, before moving back to Phoenix, I rarely thought about him. But damn if he didn’t rile me up that first meeting on the plane when he called me a “party girl.” I let my anger overtake my common sense as distasteful memories rushed me, reminding me what an idiot I had been back then. Not that I wasn’t allowed to be mad, because I totally was. Erik even validated that I had a right to be angry.

  But in hindsight I feel a bit foolish because Erik isn’t quite what I thought him to be.

  He has clearly changed over the years. Matured. Gained a better perspective on life.

  His apology to me was filled with absolute regret and remorse and I had no choice but to truly accept it.

  So things are good between us and we are friends as we said we would be. That’s all it will ever be because while Erik may have matured over the years, he is still an absolute player, and my days of one-night stands and looking for love in all the wrong places are over.

  Over the last five days, between the games, Legend and Erik have invited me, Sadie, Valerie, and Lyla to eat dinner with them. We were also joined by Bishop and Dax. Each time has been a
little awkward, but not because of the past between Erik and me. It’s because Legend and Valerie shamelessly flirt with each other and neither one of them holds back with the sexual innuendo. They’re both having fun, though, and they know it’s nothing more than that. I realize that had I taken more of that attitude five years ago, I would have saved myself a lot of frustration these last few weeks.

  The most refreshing aspect of Erik’s apology and our commitment to be friends is that I find it actually fun to hang around with the guys, Erik included. They are all in the same age range, cocky as hell, but also roguishly charming, which makes you forgive their arrogance. They’re all funny too—except for Tacker, who ate with us one night and barely said a word—and my ribs usually hurt by the end of the night from all the laughter.

  True to his word, Erik hasn’t tried to flirt with me or come on to me once. He gives me the same attention that he gives Sadie and Lyla when we are all out to dinner. He gives no attention to Valerie since Legend is sleeping with her.

  Sadie stops talking to Valerie as the players come onto the ice and since we’re the visiting team, the Vengeance is first. Given that we are the away team, I’m surprised by the rowdy roar from our fans, despite the fact we’re probably outnumbered seven to one. The girls and I stand in our seats stomping our feet on the concrete floor and clapping our hands enthusiastically. Sadie gives several wolf whistles and Valerie screams out, “Kick ass tonight, Legend.”

  My eyes tend to stay on Erik when he’s out on the ice. I’m sure it means nothing more than I have a bit of a closer connection to him than the other guys who I’ve recently been hanging out with. It absolutely has nothing to do with the fact that I find him a million times more attractive than any man standing in this arena tonight. It’s certainly not a factor that my one night with Erik was the absolute best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life. In fact, I am sure it’s nothing more than an affection for him for the way he took responsibility for his bad actions and the sincere apology he gave me.

  Yeah…that’s why I watch him.

  We stay standing for the national anthem and for a good two minutes after the game starts. The Cold Fury fans are a dedicated group and they have every reason to be coming off back-to-back Cup championships. If they pull off a third this year it will be quite a feat.

  The reason we continue to stand is because the Cold Fury fans don’t sit down after the game starts. They remain standing and cheering, and in order for us to see what’s going on past the people in front of us, we’re forced to stand as well. It takes a few minutes into the game before everyone settles into their seat.

  We easily stay immersed in the game and it’s a nail-biter. The Cold Fury come out swinging hard but why wouldn’t they? They have some of the most notable veteran players in the league. Men like Alex Crossman and Garrett Samuelson. Their goalie, Max Fournier, is probably the best in the league and I doubt Legend would mind me saying that.

  And let’s not forget they have one seriously badass woman who is their general manager. Gray Brannon—who is married to the goalie coach and former Cold Fury goalie himself, Ryker Evans—has literally turned the hockey world upside down by making controversial acquisitions based on statistical models. I don’t understand the ins and outs of it but I remember after she won their first championship, the sporting world was never quite the same again.

  Sadie leans toward me and bumps her left shoulder to my right one. She doesn’t take her eyes off the action on the ice but asks from the side of her mouth, “So what’s the real deal with you and Erik?”

  While Sadie and I are close, I have not told her about my history with Erik. That’s purely because it embarrasses me that I was stood up in such a crass fashion after jumping right into his bed while hardly knowing him. It sort of feels like I asked for it. At any rate, she only thinks that my annoyance with him had to do with the way he had come on to me in the early days. I merely told her that Erik has made a sincere apology and we have agreed to be friends.

  “What do you mean?” I ask her.

  She turns to look at me and the expression on her face says she can’t believe I’m so stupid. “Oh, come on, Blue. Surely you can tell how into you he is. Everyone can see it.”

  I shake my head in denial. “No way. He’s as friendly with everyone as he is with me.”

  Sadie snorts. “You are refusing to really see what’s going on. But if you really pay attention when Erik is around you, he’s not seeing anything but you.”

  I truly have a hard time believing this. Erik has been friendly, casual, and laid back around me. And that’s all.

  Which is why I don’t understand why the thought of him being truly interested in me causes a warm flush through me and an increase to my pulse. I follow him out on the ice, watch him crush an opponent against the boards, and the aggressiveness he displays on the ice hits me between my legs.

  I sigh with frustration.

  I don’t like how my brain is telling me to just be friends with him while my body is telling a completely different story.

  I force my attention to the game itself and not Erik. I let the excitement of battling against the current Cup champions fill me, and I join the other Vengeance fans in screaming and cheering as loud as I can to give them support.

  For the next few hours, I manage to keep most of my thoughts on the game and not on how great Erik looks out there. And when it’s all said and done, Legend does it for a third game in a row.

  He gives us another shutout and we win 2–0.

  I might even rethink my position that Max Fournier is the best goalie in the league right now.

  Chapter 6

  Erik

  I’m dismayed when I pull my car up to the visitors’ parking lot for the Cresson. I’m not sure what I was expecting of the group home that Billy Gardner lives in, but it definitely wasn’t this drab institutional-looking three-story building. I guess because when I had first met Billy he seemed like such a cheerful guy and was having fun at the festival with Blue. Perhaps I subconsciously expected him to live in something that resembled Disney World, where he could be happy and have fun all day.

  Instead, the lusterless, water-stained stucco and gray concrete exterior looks more like a prison than an adult-care facility. The only thing missing to make it so would be barbed wire around the perimeter.

  I turn off the engine and pull myself out of the low-slung Corvette I bought a couple of weeks ago. The electric-blue color stands out almost gaudily against the dreary-looking building where Billy lives.

  Pocketing my keys, I head to the entrance. The lobby area is huge and the first thing I notice when I enter is that it’s as dull as the outside: light gray walls with peeling paint and white tiling that’s yellowed over time like coffee-stained teeth. At least an effort has been made to brighten up the place with colorful prints and vases of silk flowers dotting the lobby. There’s an abundance of furniture for people to sit and visit in but it’s cheap and mismatched. The reception desk has seen better days and has scarring around the bottom which I bet comes from wheelchairs bumping up against it. There’s an old piano in one corner and a middle-aged man sits at it tapping on the keys.

  Several residents and their family members are hanging out in the lobby. Some are in motorized wheelchairs, others are being pushed. Some residents use braces, and others walk just fine on their own. Most of them look incredibly content but then again, they are with their family members for a visit.

  A kind-looking older woman sits behind the reception desk, her hair a cap of tight gray curls pinned close to her head.

  “Can I help you?” she asks with a bright smile.

  “Yeah…I’m here for the art auction.”

  Rather than direct me to where I need to go, the woman’s eyes flare and then round into big orbs of pure shock. “Oh my God. You’re Erik Dalhbeck.”

  My lips start to curve up
into a charming smile that I would bestow upon any fan but I nearly jump out of my skin when she shrieks, pointing a finger at me. “Oh. My. God. You’re Erik Dalhbeck.”

  All the people in the lobby—patients, family members, and nursing aides alike—stop what they’re doing and turn to stare, not at the woman who just shrieked, but at me.

  The limelight is nothing I’ve ever shied away from. Being a professional hockey player obviously brings about a certain level of notoriety and fame. Living out in Los Angeles when I played for the Demons, that was multiplied by a hundred. I partied with rock stars and actresses and had a few flings with them in between. Paparazzi always had cameras in my face. I was often on either an entertainment channel or sports show, usually with a beautiful actress or socialite draped along my side.

  But something about standing in this dingy group home with a woman old enough to be my grandmother, shrieking with excitement over me, causes my cheeks to burn hot. Thankfully, she realizes the ruckus she’s made and drops her voice about forty decibels. “Oh my God. You’re Erik Dalhbeck,” she whispers.

  Yeah…got that the first two times.

  “That I am,” I tell her in a low voice, hoping it encourages her to keep hers down.

  I consider extending my hand to her to shake but before I know it she is up and around the reception desk, practically throwing herself into my arms. She squeezes me hard around the waist, the top of her head barely coming to my collarbone, and exclaims, “You’re my favorite player on the Vengeance.”

  Chuckling, my arms reactively come around the woman’s back and I give her a light squeeze. When she pulls back, I look down at her to see perhaps the brightest smile I’ve ever been bestowed in my entire life. I have met all kinds of fans from all walks of life and from all age ranges, and yet the look on this old woman’s face is actually a little humbling.