by Melanie Ting
Josie kissed me. “Oh, definitely. I borrowed your toothbrush.”
“No problem. I’ll get you one of your own for next time.”
She shook her head. “Oh, Eric. Is your middle name Commitment?”
“No, it’s Sky.”
Her eyes widened, and she laughed.
I frowned at her. “What? That’s normal where I come from.”
“Yes, mythical, mystical Nelson, B.C.”
“I want to take you there, you’ll like it. It’s a beautiful place—spiritual and welcoming.”
“One sleepover and I have to meet the parents.” Josie was smiling though, she didn’t seem to mind my scheming.
“My mom will love you,” I said.
“Apparently not your dad,” she observed.
Shit. Nothing escaped her. “Well, my dad wants me to concentrate on hockey all the time. He keeps telling me it’s my last chance to make it. So, he doesn’t approve of any extracurricular activities.”
“Ahh, like me? Awesome, I’m the sexual equivalent of taking jazz band. Let’s see what you got at the bakery.” She moved into the kitchen area, and I followed. I put the kettle on and put the pastries onto a plate. Then I got out the makings of my breakfast bowl.
Josie frowned. “Are you going to eat hamster food while I’m gorging on cinnamon buns? I could feel guilty.”
“Are you kidding me? You have less conscience than a super-villain.”
“Ya, you’re right. But maybe I’ll try a little of your breakfast too. Then I can have dessert. Although, it looks like you stole this stuff from a bird feeder.”
She ate the oatmeal with flax, chia and pumpkin seeds that I made but passed on the boiled eggs and wholegrain toast. She looked far happier when she tore off a piece of cinnamon bun and popped it in her mouth. Then she frowned and returned to the subject of my family.
“I don’t understand what more your dad could ask from you. You work out harder and eat cleaner than anyone I’ve ever met. And I’ve met some extreme people.”
I exhaled. “None of it means anything unless I make the team. There will always be something I didn’t do or should have done.”
Josie nodded and patted my arm.
“Parents are never happy.” She sounded calm, but she began tearing her cinnamon bun into smaller and smaller pieces. “Bike courier isn’t exactly my dad’s career of choice for me.”
That was the first time she’d ever mentioned her family. I waited, but she didn’t continue.
“Besides, Ricky, hockey is the Canadian dream, right? At least you’re getting paid to do it.”
“Yeah, but it’s never enough. Europe isn’t the AHL, and the AHL isn’t the NHL.”
“Seems like he needs to back off. Is he paying for your training stuff?”
“No, I’m using the money I saved up from last season.”
“Then who cares?”
“It’s not that simple, Josie. I love my parents, and I want to succeed for myself and for them too.”
“Okay.” That was something else I’d noticed about Josie. When she gave her opinion, she only said it once and then never argued. It was like she thought you were an idiot if you didn’t agree, but she couldn’t be bothered to convince you. She moved onto my lap. “You want to fool around before I go?”
I grinned. There were some things we could always agree on.
11
Easy Rider
“Bomber, heads up,” I yelled out as this big centre headed towards him behind the net. Some of these guys from junior had size, but no sense of timing, and they made out like wrecking balls out there. Bomber made a neat deke that left the kid slamming himself into the boards. A few strides and Bomber had the puck in the neutral zone.
I mirrored him on the other side of the ice, our skates gliding across the blue line at exactly the same time. Bomber went wide, so I headed straight for the net. I knew Dirk was trailing, so all I needed to do was take one defenceman out of the play, and he’d have a clear shot. I took one look over my shoulder and realized that Reeds was hustling to backcheck, and he was going to take Dirk out of the play. The d-man coming at me was slow though, and maybe I could use his indecisiveness to create a little room. I faked a move to the left and behind the net, and he started to follow me. I cut back sharply. Then, swish. The puck arrived on my stick, and I roofed it.
Cellies during scrimmage were for kids. I pointed at Bomber and he grinned. We skated back to the bench.
Dirk smacked me on the back. “You’re on fiyah, Yogi. What’s your secret?”
“Healthy living. Shit like that.”
“Ugh. I’m not going to start eating your sprouted crap and doing yoga. I was hoping it was some magic pill.”
Bomber shook his head. “There are no magic pills. And if there were, the League would be testing for them.”
A few minutes later, we finished up and headed for the dressing room.
“I can’t believe that this is the end,” Dirk said sadly. “It’s been great working out with you guys.” Our training together was coming to an end. Reeds and Bomber were both leaving on the weekend. NHL training camps started a couple of weeks before the AHL ones. Dirk and I would still be working out, and then it would be our turn to leave. The whole place was starting to turn over as hockey season geared up.
“Nothing like the beginning of hockey season,” said Bomber happily. I knew what he meant. Training was fun and stress-free, but I was starting to long for meaningful games—if I got through the tryout. Bomber was the guy I felt closest to. He had given me lots of advice and encouragement. I felt sure we’d all keep in touch.
“Don’t forget about the barbeque at my place tonight,” Reeds said.
“What barbeque?” I asked.
“What is wrong with your brain, Yogi? I told you a week ago. It’s our goodbye bash.”
“I’ve got plans to meet Josie. But maybe we can drop by later.”
Reeds groaned. “Ever since you started dating her, it’s like you’re in a fog.”
“All his mental energies are being drained down here.” Dirk rubbed his crotch. “He’s achieved nirvana.”
“Actually, nirvana is a state of enlightenment beyond desire,” I corrected him. Dirk threw a sweaty hockey sock at me.
But they were right. Ever since I’d started seeing Josie, I’d been in a bit of a daze. For a while, I was worried that staying up late and having strenuous sex was going to cut into my training regimen, but I’d been playing better than ever. It felt like my mind was clear and I could really focus. But I had added a pre-dinner nap into my day. You couldn’t fake sleep, and as Reeds said, I’d been a little absentminded.
And I really liked hanging out with her, but I couldn’t pin her down much, which was both frustrating and freeing. Reeds would say it was karma for all the women I’d brushed off when they wanted a relationship.
Today, Josie was working at some location in the valley, but we going to meet afterwards for dinner. I checked my phone but there was no message from her.
When I got out of the shower, the room was strangely empty. Usually, the guys hung around and shot the shit a little. But it looked like everyone had taken off.
Then it hit me that the guys might be planning some kind of prank, especially since I wasn’t going out with them tonight. I opened the dressing room door carefully. No bucket of anything fell on my head. I peeked down the corridor, but it sounded completely empty.
I headed out to my truck. A bunch of the guys were gathered beside it, and I sped up. What the hell was up? If they were attaching dildos to the truck like I’d seen once in the A, I’d kill them.
“This is one nice ride,” said Mars, one of the younger players.
“Sweetest motorcycle I’ve seen,” Dirk chimed in.
“Dude. This is not just a motorcycle! It’s a fucking Ducati Panigale. This baby could smoke any car on the road.” Bomber was as excited as I’d ever heard him. “How fast can she accelerate?”
“Zero t
o 100 clicks in three seconds.” I could hear Josie’s calm voice although I couldn’t yet see her amongst the crowd. Then someone moved, and I saw her. She was leaning against her bike in a leather jacket, jeans, and aviators. The breeze spiked up her hair.
“Oooh, man. It’s a beauty.” Bomber was practically jizzing out there. “How did you get this bike anyway?”’
“I bought it from a little old lady who only used it to go to church on Sundays.”
“No, seriously, Josie.”
“I had to learn to race motorcycles for a movie, and I really liked it. Mario, the guy who taught me to ride, knew someone who wanted to sell the Ducati. So, we made a deal, and now I—” She looked up and saw me. “Oh hey, Ricky.”
I pushed my way through the crowd, put my arm around her, and kissed her. It was probably the equivalent of an animal marking his territory. “You getting into trouble again?”
She leaned against me. “Always.”
“Eric! You didn’t tell me your girlfriend rode a Ducati.” Bomber sounded shocked at my lapse. I didn’t even know what kind of motorcycle it was. He kept running his hands over the leather seat and the chrome handlebars.
Reeds laughed. “If he talks about Josie, it’s not going to be about her bike. But we all remember you from the pub.”
“And from all the time that Fairburn spent stalk—” I jammed my elbow into Dirk’s side to shut him up. “Er, I mean, talking about you,” he finished.
Josie laughed. Not only had she heard his word slip, but she knew I had been obsessed with her anyway. How else could I have shown up outside her work site?
“Gentleman, Josie and I have plans. So, maybe you can clear out.”
Dirk spoke directly to her. “Hey, Josie, we’re all going out to a bbq at Reeds’ place. It’s a goodbye party because Reeds and Bomber are leaving. Yogi here can’t come because he’s too whipped. So, why don’t both of you come? Please, please?”
“Yogi? Is that what you call him?” Josie laughed. “And you think I’ve got him whipped?”
“Hey, did I say it was a bad thing?” Dirk was eyeing her, and in her leather jacket and studded belt, she did look like a dominatrix.
She turned to me. “It’s up to Eric.”
I was worried that she wouldn’t want to hang out with the guys, but it would be great to go. “Okay, we’ll meet you there.”
“Awesome,” said Bomber. He was probably going to spend the evening caressing her motorcycle.
Everyone headed back to his car. I lifted Josie’s face and kissed her properly this time. I could hear some rude remarks in the background, but I ignored them.
I kept her face cradled in my hand. “You came to see me. That’s sweet.”
“Ugh. Don’t call me sweet, or I’ll never do this again. I was on my way back and I figured this might save time.”
“It will. You are so smart. And cute. And sweet.”
She fake-punched me in the stomach. “Maybe I’ll hop back on my bike and leave.”
“Zero to 100 kilometres in three seconds. I could never catch up with that. How come I never get to ride your motorcycle?”
“I wouldn’t let you drive it.”
“Because of my driving restrictions?”
“No. Because you don’t know how to handle this much power between your legs.” She rubbed my thigh as she said that, and I smiled down at her. If he had a face, my cock would have been smiling too, but instead he settled for getting hard.
I pulled her close to me. “I think I do. And I think I showed you that on Wednesday night.”
Josie tried to hide her smile. I kissed her forehead and kept talking. “I don’t mind if you drive. I could ride behind you.” I rubbed my hand over her ass. “Right behind you.”
She shook her head. “You wanna be my bitch, Ricky? Too bad, but it’s not that kind of bike. It only seats one.”
“Why did you get it? Other than it was fun.”
“I like to do road trips. To clear out the cobwebs in my brain and be alone.”
Josie made it very clear that she needed time alone, and again I worried that I was pushing her too much. But I enjoyed being with her—even beyond the sex.
“Are you sure it’s okay if we go to Reeds’ place? I mean, there’ll probably be a lot of hockey talk, and it’s mainly guys.”
“I like guys.”
“I don’t know if I like that statement.”
Josie laughed. “It beats ‘I like girls.’”
“True.”
She shook her head. “Seriously, if you want to do something—just say so. I’m not big on self-sacrifice. And you know I’ll tell you if I don’t want to do it.”
“I guess. I want our times together to be fun for you.”
“I’m not a princess, and I don’t want you to feel whipped.”
“Because if there’s any whipping, I want to do it.” I slapped her ass for emphasis.
“That’s not going to happen,” Josie said.
“Why not? I think it might be fun.”
“I told you before—I’m not into pain. Not mine, anyway. Yours I can deal with.”
“Why do you do stunt work then? There’s so much potential for accidents and injury.”
“That’s why I’m good at my job. I do the maximum preparation to avoid risks. You always see those clips of fiery stunts gone wrong, but you never see the hundreds of times that things go right—except in the actual movie.”
“All right. I guess I’m meeting you there, right?”
“Yup. Give me the address.” I found it on my phone and showed it to her. She pulled on her helmet and fastened the straps.
“Aren’t you ever going to ride with me?” Although who in their right minds would ride in a Toyota truck instead of the world’s coolest motorcycle?
“Sure. When you get the training wheels off.”
She roared off. Bomber was getting into his Porsche, but he watched her leave longingly. I knew that feeling well.
12
Fear of Heights
I swallowed and looked down through the deep canyon to the river below. Way, way below. My sphincter clenched.
Josie was leaning over the side of the rope bridge and pointing. “Look! I think I can see a hawk soaring over there.”
“Let’s keep going,” I suggested. There were more people coming and the suspension bridge was beginning to sway. It was a family and the kids were jumping and trying to rock the bridge.
She turned to stare and then giggled. “You know, for someone so big and strong—you sure seem to have a lot of fears.”
I ignored that and walked swiftly to the other side. Once I was on solid ground I felt better.
“Lots of people don’t like heights.” No guy wanted his girlfriend to think he was a wimp. But Josie was so fearless, I was never going to play the hero in her life. She was still laughing at me.
“This is one of the secrets that Vancouverites know,” Josie bragged. “Tourists pay tons to cross the Capilano Suspension Bridge, while this one is free.”
“I do appreciate having my own tour guide.” I grabbed her hand and kissed her on the top of her ball cap. Josie looked so cute in her hiking outfit: shirt, tank, shorts, daypack, and hiking boots. And miles of tanned leg showing.
“And I have more good news, I can route our hike so that we don’t have to cross that bridge on the way back.”
“I wasn’t that scared,” I protested. Truth be told, I was a little edgy already.
After hiking for an hour, we broke for lunch. We sat on a rock in the fall sunshine. I took out the sandwiches I had made, and Josie brought out drinks.
“Even your sprouted monstrosities taste good up here,” Josie said. But she ate her whole sandwich. We ate most of our lunch in silence.
“Something bothering you?” Josie asked.
I nodded. “My tryout with the Vice starts tomorrow. I’m kind of nervous.”
“Why? You’re in great shape now, aren’t you?”
“The
best ever. Tony has been amazing.” I’d thanked him yesterday, and we had one last talk about psychology and maintaining the right attitude during my tryout camp. And we’d agreed to stay in touch during the season—wherever I ended up.
“Then why sweat it?” Josie gave a casual shrug and then lay down, closing her eyes and basking in the sunlight.
Did she not get this? It was only going to be the most important two weeks of my life. If I made the Vice, I could still get a crack at the NHL. “It’s a huge deal. I mean, everything I’ve done for the past two years—getting straight, playing in Switzerland, training with Tony—it’s all been for this.”
Josie opened her eyes. “It’s not life or death, Ricky. What happens if you don’t make the team?”
“I don’t know. I try not to think about that possibility.” I wanted to remain positive, and not even consider failure.
She sat up. “But imagining the worst can make you feel more relaxed. When I’m working, I spend a ton of time envisioning all the bad outcomes and how I would react to them. Then I put aside my nerves so I can relax and do things well. You can’t overthink the physical.”
“Jesus, Josie, don’t you think I know that?” At Tony’s I was the one who explained the whole subconscious performance thing.
For me, playing hockey was like driving. There were too many random factors to consciously consider at once. A defenceman coming at you from one side, where your linemates were going to be in ten seconds, what the goalie’s tendencies were. If you thought about all that shit, you were screwed. Let your subconscious mind do all the work and your body would do the rest. And that was where it all started to go wrong for me, once I realized the importance of what I did on the ice. Conscious thought was death to my game.
She stood up and brushed off her shorts. “Let’s keep going.”
“Wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Josie’s gaze was level and honest. “I’m not mad. But I’m not enjoying this conversation.” She began packing up the lunch stuff.
“You know, you could be more supportive.” I packed up the garbage.