Breakaway: A Hockey Romance

by Christiana Watson

  Nate snapped his fingers by my ear, and I turned toward him with a glare. He sat back and crossed his arms across the hoodie that stretched across his lithe body. “It’s because we both think you’re being ridiculous.”

  “How am I being ridiculous? He pretty much called me a slut! And then he went on to say that Lindsey definitely is a slut!”

  “Well, Lindsey definitely is a slut,” Nate replied. I turned to glance at her, waiting to see how she would react to Nate’s crude words. It annoyed me that she only laughed as she signaled to exit the highway.

  I huffed. “Why are you laughing, Lindsey?”

  She shrugged. “I mean it’s just not that big of a deal, Char. Sure, it isn’t very nice to call a girl a slut, but neither of us can say that I don’t like collecting notches on my bedpost. And besides, Sean wasn’t wrong. I would’ve gladly fucked him that night if I actually made it into the bar.”

  I grunted in reply and turned away from both of them. In the years that I knew the pair, the only thing they ever agreed on was that they mutually disliked each other. For them to agree that I was being irrational was slightly off-putting. But was I being irrational?

  With the exception of the very first night we met, Sean had been pretty great to me. Something changed two weeks ago, and he totally lost his cool in the parking lot of Chili’s. He didn’t actually call me a slut, but I didn’t appreciate being lumped in with the types of girls that typically chased after the hockey crowd. And regardless of how cool she was being about it, it wasn’t okay to go around calling my best friend a slut either.

  Lindsey pulled the car suddenly into a gas station, effectively breaking my train of thought. I turned toward her with a quirked eyebrow when we parked at the front. “What are we doing here?”

  “We have to buy some beer.”

  “Why?”

  “The website says B.Y.O.B.,” she said simply while exiting the car and flouncing toward the entrance. Nate’s puzzled look in the rearview mirror matched what I was feeling myself. I rolled my eyes and got out of the car.

  By the time we found Lindsey, she was struggling to exit the beer cave with three twelve packs of Coors Light in her arms. Nate held the door open for her as he said, “I’m pretty sure that means ‘bring your own bottle,’ Linds.”

  “Thanks for holding the door, pal!” She replied happily as she marched toward the counter. “And B.Y.O.B. definitely means ‘bring your own beer.’ Always has, always will.”

  I rolled my eyes but didn’t offer any other argument as we paid for the beer and got back into the car. Silence settled between us for the remainder of the short ride, no words floating between us until we walked toward the studio, beer in hand. As we got closer, I could see several groups of women walking in the same direction, all touting bottles of wine. “Oh my god, Lindsey, we’re going to look so stupid.”

  “Stop worrying about it. When I talked to Cam, he said plenty of people brought beer the last time the team did this.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. My stomach plummeted as I spotted a “Pinot & Paint with the Valors for MUSC Children’s Hospital” poster hanging in the window of the studio. Those assholes planned a meeting between me and Sean behind my back. Nate and Lindsey were literally hanging out because they thought they knew what I wanted better than I did?

  “I’m not going in there, you jerks!”

  “Stop being so stubborn,” Nate said while walking to the door and holding it open. I dropped the case of beer on the ground between my feet and crossed my arms across my chest. I shivered in the cool night air, frustrated that I didn’t think to bring a jacket. I underestimated the cool bite of the mid-February wind. I could see Nate huff and roll his eyes from where he was standing.

  Lindsey nudged me gently as she stopped next to me. “You do know that you’re not getting out of this, right?”

  “Lindsey, how could you guys do this to me?” I turned toward her with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

  Her response was to yank the hair tie from my hair. As the wavy blonde mess cascaded around my shoulders, she replied, “Because I think you’re scared of what’s happening with Sean. He’s super hot, and you’ve never thought enough about yourself to think that a super hot guy could be into you. Now, stop hiding behind your defenses because perfection is headed our way at two o’ clock.”

  I glanced to the right in time to see Sean, Cam, and Devon walking toward us. Each man wore his respective jersey, and they all looked far more handsome than any man had any right to. Cam’s face brightened when Lindsey waved to him, and Sean offered me a crooked smile. I felt a frown pulling the sides of my mouth down, and his own smile drooped. I swooped down and grabbed my case of beer before rushing into the studio.

  “You’re a fucking asshole,” I hissed at Nate as I passed.

  “You’re welcome!” He called after me with a chuckle. I ignored him as I marched toward the cubbies in the corner to toss my purse in one and grab an apron. I was not going down without a fight and all these motherfuckers would learn that the hard way.

  — D —

  I rolled my eyes when I arrived at the secluded corner table that was reserved for me, my roommates, Charlie, and her friends. The seats were assigned with three people sitting on each side. I wasn’t quite sure how they did it, but between Cam, Lindsey, and Nate, the trio managed to have Charlie placed between Sean and Lindsey with Cam sitting between me and Nate. Based on the argument that I witnessed two weeks prior, and Charlie’s body language now, I was pretty sure the entire evening was going to be an absolute shit storm.

  The defensive movements of Charlie’s body as she spoke to Sean across the studio were a pretty solid indicator of her mood. Her shoulders were hunched, and she glared while waving her arms at several of the paintings on the walls of the studio. Sean’s face pulled tight as she pushed past him, probably with more force than was absolutely necessary. She paused, and her eyes traveled the room before landing on our table. The rise-and-fall of her shoulders was easy to see. She shook her head and started toward our table. Sean followed a few paces behind her, eyes downcast.

  She stopped them at the end of the table, and four pairs of eyes turned to them expectantly. “Cam, can I please switch seats with you?”

  “Uh,” he started slowly, and I noticed his eyes meet Lindsey’s over the top of their canvases.

  Lindsey rolled her eyes but shrugged slightly, leaving the ball in Cam’s court. “Uh… are you sure you don’t wanna stay where you are?”

  She turned her head and glared at Sean who was standing uncharacteristically silent next to her. “I’m pretty fucking positive.”

  Cam’s eyes widened almost comically, and he nodded. Charlie pointedly avoided eye contact with everyone; and by the time we everyone was settled, Lindsey and Cam looked contrite, Sean was hunched over the table refusing to look our way, and Nate was glaring at his supposed best friend. Charlie dropped her twelve pack of beer on the table between us, and I did my best to feign disinterest. The smell of her floral perfume washed over me, and I struggled to not lean closer into her and inhale deeply. Goddamn. She smelled as good as she looked.

  Charlie pulled a beer from her twelve pack, and I forced myself to turn my attention away from her. I could only imagine how uncomfortable it would be for her to tell that I was acutely aware of her every action, so I tried desperately to keep myself distracted. I studied my surroundings for the first time since we arrived. Easels and canvas were set up in front of each person, with even more supplies sitting underneath. My eyes continued to wander the studio as other groups settled in around us.

  Two instructors—one blonde, one brunette—stood at the front of the room wearing headsets and looking way more perky than any person had a right to at 7:30 P.M. The blonde one pointed to the painting on the stage next to the brunette—I later learned their names were Maggie and Sarah—and I rolled my eyes with a groan. A painting of a field of waving wildflowers and floating butterflies assaulted my eyes, an
d I found myself wishing for one of Charlie’s beers—anything to chug that would make this evening less of a pain in the ass. Why the fuck were we painting wildflowers and butterflies? At the very least, we could be painting the Valors emblem.

  Awkward silence filled the space around our table, and I found myself watching Charlie from the corner of my eye. She made herself busy with inspecting the supplies in front of her. I barely refrained from chuckling when she stuck her palm in the blob of blue paint on the plate in front of her and hastily straightened her supplies. She swiped her palm across the front of the apron and gulped from her beer again. She glanced across the table at Sean, a frown pulling slightly at her lips, before turning her attention to me. I made a show of setting my jaw in a hard line and crossing my arms over my chest. The heat of her gaze as she studied me caused my foot to shake against the rung of the stool I sat on. She hadn’t stared at me quite so intently since the night we first met.

  “Hey,” she said, and she leaned closer to me, sending another waft of her floral perfume in my direction. I turned toward her with a cocked eyebrow. She chewed on her lip momentarily as she studied me, and I urged her to say something. There was no way whatever she was thinking could be more awkward than the silent situation we were currently in.

  After a quiet moment, she continued in a whisper, “Lindsey made us bring beer—I’m going to need you to drink at least half of this twelve, so I’m not the only classless looking mother fucker in here.”

  “No.” The word came out without thought. As much as I wanted to drink to drown the awkwardness of the situation, I wanted even less to be part of her passive-aggressive shenanigans.

  She rolled her eyes and huffed. I fought to control a smile. “C’mon, Devon, would it actually kill you to help a friend in need?”

  “Friend?” I shook my head and turned away from her.

  I would give anything to get to know the super-sexy woman sitting next to me, but none of our previous interactions suggested any type of friendship. Maybe a forced acquaintance was a better term for our relationship.

  I was uncomfortably aware of the four pairs of eyes following our forced interaction. I knew that one set of those eyes was turned toward me with a glare. Sean: 0. Devon: 2. She sighed deeply. From the corner of my eye, I watched as she pushed the twelve pack toward me. “Listen,” she started, a little more forcefully than before, “you definitely don’t want me to drink this entire twelve by myself. You haven’t seen me drunk; I’m super duper clumsy. Like me in the floor and you covered in paint clumsy. Do me a favor… as an acquaintance?”

  There was that word again. I sighed but didn’t toward her. I didn’t need to see her face turned up at me with to know I was going to lose this one. I replied, “You’re not going to leave me alone until I agree to this, are you?”

  “Nope!” She responded cheerfully. I was certain she was more than aware of the awkwardness that surrounded our table. As misguided as the attempt was, she was trying to remedy the atmosphere.

  “Yeah, fine—I’ll drink a beer.”

  She smiled brightly, and I felt the slightest clench in my stomach. The smile we shared at Chili’s was a secretive, commiserating type of deal—a smile shared between two people who were tired of dealing with their friend’s shit. This smile was something different entirely. For the first time since we met, it felt like she was genuinely pleased with me.

  I still couldn’t help myself, though. Jabs and smart ass comments were our safety zone. I popped the top to the beer and took a swig before asking, “You couldn’t have brought good beer?”

  “Hey!” She said as she reached over and shoved me slightly. My feet slipped from the rungs of the stool, and I arched an eyebrow at her before righting myself. I fought the grin that was pulling at my lips, and I thought that she might be struggling to repress her natural urge to pick a fight. “That’s the official beer of the NHL, buddy! In the name of Gordie, show some respect!”

  I chose not to respond and began to study our silent companions. Cam and Sean were deep in a conversation that consisted mostly of grunts back and forth about how stupid the event was. Lindsey glanced at Charlie with what might be sympathy in her brown eyes, but Nate cocked his head toward Sean and raised an eyebrow. I turned my eyes and attention away from the woman next to me. My eyes traveled the room taking in the other groups, the stupid ass paintings on the walls, and even our instructors. It might have been my imagination, but I was pretty sure Sarah was making eyes at me over the shoulder of her co-worker.

  Charlie bumped shoulders with me gently, and I turned toward her with a sigh. I wasn’t sure that I would ever find peace with her around—and I wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. “What?”

  “I need your help with something else.”

  I couldn’t stop my own snark when I asked, “What? Do you have another twelve pack hidden beneath the table?”

  “Sure don’t, pal!” I quirked an eyebrow, and she shrugged. “Listen, this might put a bit of a strain on our budding friendship if you’re not completely on board.”

  “Budding friendship?” I asked. Charlie was clearly losing her mind under the pressure of awkwardness pressing in around us. Her response was a hard stare, and I sighed before running a hand over my face. “Fine. Are you going to tell me what it is?”

  “No, I need you to agree first,” she replied simply, and I tried not to roll my eyes. I knew I was going to lose this fight, and I didn’t doubt that whatever it was wasn’t going to end well for me.

  She held her hand out to me, and I seriously considered whether I could just get up, ask Sarah if she wanted to get the hell out of there, and then fuck my frustrations away. Sure, Charlie warmed to me considerably over the past half hour, but there was a nasty voice in the back of my head that reminded me that she was probably just working an angle to make Sean jealous.

  Charlie jabbed her hand at me impatiently after a few seconds, and I felt resignation settle in my stomach like a boulder. It was time to man up. I couldn’t keep up the tense interactions with her every time we were in the same room. It was exhausting, and it wasn't helping to cure my mislaid affection or poorly time boners for her. With a sigh and furrowed eyebrows, I shook her hand.

  My stomach jumped and twisted when she leaned in close, placing a hand on my thigh to maintain balance. We both seemed to simultaneously notice Lindsey quirking an eyebrow at her actions, and Charlie responded by raising a middle finger to her. I fought the urge to smirk and raise my own middle finger at Sean when he sneered at me from across the table. Any resolve I’d maintained up to that point dissolved at Charlie’s next words.

  In a ridiculous stage whisper, she said, “Let’s see how many dicks we can sneak into these paintings.”

  I could feel my stony-faced facade crumble, and a grin tugged at the corner of my lips. A snigger gave way to a laugh; and after a few seconds, I clutched the table as my laughter filled the room. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from her, but it certainly wasn’t that. Goddamn Sean for catching her attention in ways that I couldn’t and goddamn me for pushing them together.

  “Shut up, Devon!” She hissed at me, and I tried my damnedest to stop laughing. Curious eyes tracked our location in the studio, and the instructors turned toward us with disapproving glares. Our companions stared at us, openly gawking, and Charlie shrugged.

  After a few more moments of laughter, I managed to pull myself together and swiped my fingers under my eyes. “What? You can’t be serious.”

  “Au contraire, Mon’Ami. This painting is bullshit. I bet I can sneak way more dicks into mine than you can into yours.”

  — C —

  “No way does your giant dick count!” I exclaimed while examining Devon’s painting a little while later. He was initially reluctant to join me in my mission to make our paintings just a little less fucking miserable; but after a few beers and a few well hidden phallic symbols on my part, he joined in with gusto. I wasn’t sure if the heat I felt in my face was due to the be
ers or the fact that I just yelled about Devon’s gigantic dick in a crowd full of hockey players and slightly buzzed women.

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re just jealous of my cloud’s girth,” he said as our friends gathered behind us to examine our artwork.

  “Bullshit,” I said hoping against all odds that my face didn’t heat any further at the slightly husky tone of his voice. I pointed to my painting with tipsy flourish. “I said we had to sneak them in. Half your sky is a wildly jizzing cloud-dick. Look at mine! Now that’s stealth and phallic beauty if I’ve even seen it!”

  “Seriously?” Lindsey asked while trying to suppress a giggle. I turned toward her, cocking an eyebrow in silent question. “You’ve got a swarm of pretty obvious butterdicks in your painting, and you want to call Devon out on his one, extremely girthy cloud?”

  I turned wildly back toward my painting. My beautiful butterflies weren’t that obvious were they? I mean sure, the bottom half of their wings were definitely balls, and the top half of their wings totally had nipples, and sure the body was obviously a shaft… But they were done tastefully right?

  “Y’know, Lindsey,” Sean chimed in, and I turned toward him. I held his gaze for a moment, and he smiled at me tentatively before continuing his thought, “I think Charlie’s swarm of dickerflies is way better than Devon’s cloud cock.”

  I beamed at Sean before turning to Devon and sticking my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes, and I giggled while standing and stretching. I stumbled into my stool. I bit back a gasp at the electric sensation that raced through my body at the feeling of a strong hand grasping my arm in a steadying gesture. Okay, maybe having seven beers wasn’t one of my brightest ideas.

  “You okay?” Sean asked as our friends began to move away from our table to gather their belongings. Cam, Nate, and Lindsey headed toward the cubbies near the door, and Devon slinked away in the direction of the brunette that was making eyes at him all night.