by June Winters
“Oh no? Really? Huh!” Madison faked a laugh. “Maybe you should ask Rockwell about her next time you two are texting.”
Without another word, Madison strutted off, reveling in her victory.
I typed out a message: “So who's Allison?” My thumb hovered over that send button while I tried to muster up the courage to send it.
But Cora interrupted me. “Hey rookie!”
“Hey Cora.”
“Looks like we're all wrapped up here. You wanna hang? Walk downtown and grab some dinner?”
I smiled, dropping my phone in my bag and saving that text for another time.
“I'd love to.”
***
The two of us grabbed salads for dinner at the Chophouse. Afterwards, we ended up at Next Door, a sports bar packed with Blizzard fans. The pre-game show played on the TV, showing clips and interviews.
Cora and I got to learn about each other. She was a pre-med undergraduate student at Denver U. And like one might expect from a future doctor, she had a very calm and even-keeled disposition about her. To her, the ice girl thing was just a job that fit her student schedule nicely—and she'd mastered the art of staying out of all the unwanted drama.
“Most girls burn out after their first year,” she admitted with a laugh. “The central clique is … well. You know. You can see it. It's like they're straight out of Mean Girls.”
I felt so relieved that she'd acknowledged it. “Yes. Thank you.”
“It bothered me my first year, too. I came really close to quitting. All those girls are gone now. Me and Madison are actually the only two still on the team from my rookie year.”
“What was Madison like back then?”
“She was a second-year. So, she wasn't as alpha as she is now,” Cora admitted with a sly grin. “But she was growing into the role, for sure.”
“I feel like she hates me.”
“She doesn't hate you. She is intimidated by you, though.”
“… Because of Rockwell, right?”
Cora gave a small nod. “Madison's the captain of the ice girls. Rockwell's the captain of the hockey team. Captain and captain: it should be a match made in heaven, shouldn't it? At least in Madison's mind, it is.”
“Oh, man. I didn't even think of that. She's convinced that I'm fucking him or something.”
“So. You and Rockwell. You're not—” Cora wrapped a fist around her index finger, the universal sign for fucking, “—like Madison's afraid of, are you?”
“No,” I gulped. Guiltily, I sipped my drink through the straw.
Cora, I knew, could tell there was more to the story.
“Okay. Look. He's been flirting with me, but I keep turning him down. I told him he's going to get me in trouble.”
“Smart girl. I don't know if you've realized it yet, but professional athletes are dogs. The good part about them being dogs? They lose interest the second some other 'piece of meat' catches their eye—trust me, it'll happen. And then Madison will be off your case, too.”
“Wow. Really? You think?”
“That's the way it's always played out the past three years I've been here, anyway.”
I was both disappointed and relieved to hear that. And I bet it showed on my face, too.
Cora frowned sympathetically. “Every girl wants to think that she'll be the one to reform the heart-breaker and end up with the millionaire athlete, right? See, that's what's too bad about it. These guys don't even realize they're fucking with our hearts and shit. You know? Listen. I guarantee you, tonight, after the game? Our boys will hit the club scene in Montreal, on the prowl for women, just like always.”
My heart sunk. “Yeah? You think so?”
“That's what they do when they're on the road, Honor. Like I said: dogs.”
“Madison said something about the girl I replaced—Allison. Do you know anything about her?”
“Well, yeah. I got to know her. She was cool.” Cora took a sip from her drink, and then I knew there was more to the story.
“But then?”
“But then she and Madison had some kinda fight. I don't really like to get involved in the gossip and hearsay, but you can probably guess—”
“Hunter,” I concluded.
Cora clucked her tongue and wagged her finger at me. “Mm-hm.”
Great. To think I even let him kiss me. I'm so dumb.
We both turned and glared at the TV, where the Blizzard took to the ice for the opening faceoff. The camera zoomed in on Hunter's face as he readied himself. For the game that he was dedicating to me, apparently.
But could I even trust that? I wondered how many other women might be tuning into the game, all excited and thinking he was playing just for them.
“It's really too bad he can't settle down,” Cora mused, “because he sure is a handsome devil.”
Chapter 12:
Always Gets Me in Trouble
Rockwell
We were sweaty, banged up, and tired as we marched our way back to the visitor's dressing room in Montreal. But let me tell ya. We never felt better. And the silence of that Montreal building as we left the ice was the sweetest thing I'd heard all year.
We'd clobbered Montreal, 7-0. We were at their throats from the opening draw, and we never let up, either. I had one goal, five assists, and several huge hits.
In the dressing room, the boys hooted. Nothing brought a team together like the jokes and good feeling in a dressing room after a big win. Plus, in a 7-0 game, a lot of guys get involved in the offense—so the cheer sure gets spread around.
Not to mention, our playoff hopes were still alive. Two games remained. We had to win out the rest of the way, but at least we had a shot.
The boys were talking about heading out tonight to celebrate our victory … but I wanted to celebrate with someone else. I went straight for my cell phone and texted Honor: “So? Did you watch?”
The boys all around me were going nuts, dancing to our victory song as they tore off sweat-soaked equipment.
“Hey Rockwell!” Vinny yelled at me over the noise. “Six points tonight, you fuckin' beast! Did you start juicin', bro?”
Vinny had a good night himself—three goals, all assisted by me.
I laughed. “I went back to my old curve, actually.” I showed him my old stick. The one I hadn't used since my Boston days.
“God damn, that's flat.” Vinny inspected the blade. “Why the change?”
I shrugged. “I've been forcing things too much. Thought I should go back to my roots, I guess, and start dishing the puck out more instead of trying to do it all myself.”
“Well hey, I appreciate you making me look like the hero for once!”
I stared into my phone, waiting for a reply. None yet.
Vinny pointed at me. “Get a load of Ron Textall over here.”
The boys burst into laughter. And then they were discussing where we should go find girls tonight.
“What about you, Rockwell?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I'm staying in.”
“What? Why?”
“Heart's not in it, boys. Sorry.”
“Pff. Whatever.”
***
The boys went out, but I went straight back to our hotel.
Still no reply from Honor. I texted her again. “Hope you watched that game.”
Twenty minutes went by, and still no reply. Huh.
I typed up one more text. My last one for the night, if I didn't get a reply: “Everything ok?”
Her reply came fast. “So who's Allison?”
I read it and groaned. I dialed her number immediately, but she let it go to voicemail.
I texted her again: “I can explain over phone. My thumbs will fall off if I have to type the whole story up.”
Her reply, a few minutes later: “Fine. Call again.”
I did. This time, she answered. “Hi.”
Hearing her voice? Damn, man. My heart felt lighter. Even though I knew she was probably about to hate me, and then it'd be heavy all o
ver again.
“Hi Honor.”
“So? Who's Allison? Madison told me I should ask you about her.” She sounded a little tipsy.
“Yeah. Okay.” I took a deep breath. “She was an ice girl. Hired at the beginning of this season.”
Honor didn't wait to hear the rest of the story. “And you fucked her, didn't you?”
“No. I didn't fuck her.” I paused. “But … she did give me head a couple months ago.”
“Oh, so she only sucked your dick? That's fantastic. Glad I could be her replacement in so many ways. And so that's why she doesn't work here anymore, I take it?”
“Well, … look. She did it because she hated Madison. She threw herself at me, Honor. A girl comes at me like that, what am I supposed to do?”
“I don't know. Not fuck everything that moves, maybe?”
“I didn't fuck her.”
“Whatever. She sucked your dick. You know what I mean.”
“Do you wanna hear the story or not?”
Honor groaned. “Fine. Go ahead.”
“She texted me her address and told me I should come over. So I did. Without me knowing, she also invited Madison over. When Madison barged in, Allison had me—err, you know—on the living room couch.”
“Ugh.”
“Yeah. One hell of a way to quit a job, I guess.”
“How many ice girls have you fucked?”
“Zero.”
She laughed. “Bullshit.”
“Look, I don't know if you realize this or not, but I don't have to hit up the ice girls when I want ass—” The line went dead. “Aw, fuck,” I muttered to myself.
I called her again. Thankfully, she answered. “Hey, sorry. That was crass. What I meant to say was, I don't need the workplace drama. I've seen it with my teammates and trust me, it's not pretty when it goes wrong. You have to see those girls on the ice during games, after all … you can imagine, it can get pretty bad.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. So why'd you hook up with Allison?”
“I've … I've had a bad year. Everyone knows that. I've been—spiraling, I guess? I've been out of control. I hate it.”
“Is that why you made a move on me the other night? Because you're 'spiraling' and out of control?”
“I dunno.” I paused. “Maybe at first. But the more I think about you …”
I had the sudden urge to just say fuck it and hang up the phone. But I gritted my teeth and waited for the sense of hopeless frustration to pass.
“Look, yeah, the first night I met you after your audition? I thought you were really cute, even if you were pissed and kinda snappy.”
She tutted.
“Hey, it's true. I don't blame you though! Your moron boyfriend left you stranded. But … something about you struck me as being different. Oh, and the way you did your hair? With the crown of braids? I thought you looked like a princess.”
“Stop it, Hunter, you're being cheesy.”
“The point is … yeah, I wanted to make a move on you that first night. But I also thought better of it. Because you're different, somehow. I didn't quite know how at first. But the more I talk to you, the more I think I'm right about that.”
She quietly let that soak in.
“I need to know something right now: is there, or was there ever, anything between you and Madison? Anything at all.”
“No. God no. She's always had a thing for me but I'm not at all interested. She's not my type. And if you wanna talk about workplace drama? You just know she'd make my life a living hell …”
“You swear you haven't touched her?”
“Yeah, Honor, I swear it.”
We were both quiet. I listened to her gentle breathing over the line. She sounded like she was annoyed and disappointed with me … but also relieved.
And I was aware of something. Something that excited me. The fact that none of this history would matter to her, if some part of her didn't truly like me. That she wanted me to be a good man, and not this meat-head jock that slept around. Damn—that was a good feeling. I felt compelled to actually be honest with her.
“Listen, Honor. It's true. For three years, I've been an idiot. Something's been wrong with me, okay? I haven't taken care of my body like I know I should've. I've partied. I've slept around a lot and I know I've broken more than a few hearts.”
The brusque gust of air told me she didn't like hearing that.
“But,” I added, “something about you is different. You're not amused by me. You're not impressed by me. And that drives me wild—it makes me want to be better. For you, I guess.”
She laughed. “Great. So I can't get rid of you no matter what?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” I grinned. “Did you know I haven't had a cigarette since that day I first gave you a ride home?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It's true.”
“Well. I'm happy to hear that.”
“And oh—damn! Honor! Did you watch the game tonight or what?”
“I did. At the bar with Cora.”
“Well? What'd you think?”
“You guys killed 'em. And you played great. Cora said that was the best game you've played in a Blizzard jersey.”
“I think so too. I used my old stick, like you said I should. That's why I wanted you to watch.”
“Yeah?” That made her really happy—I could hear it in her voice.
“Yup. It's funny. Because honestly, I'm sure a lot of that was just mental. But that's exactly what I needed. A mental shift. It helped change my mindset, I guess.”
Honor was quiet. “So where are you now?”
“Back at the hotel.”
“Aren't you going out tonight? With the boys? Prowl the town for ass, and all that?”
“The boys already went out. I didn't feel like it.”
“… Really?”
“Yup. Actually, I came back here because I couldn't wait to talk to you.”
Honor scoffed. “Oh, get real, Hunter Rockwell. You're such a flirt. It's impossible to know when you're being honest.”
“I'm serious. I've been thinking about you ever since that night at your place.”
“Uh huh,” she said, as if she didn't believe me.
“Really.”
“… Tell me what you've been thinking about, then.”
“Are you sure you wanna know? It's kinda dirty.”
I heard her gulp, loud and clear, through the phone.
“Yes,” she answered huskily.
“I loved how right and wrong it felt, Honor—all at the same time. You wanted it, but you pushed me away, too. That's the part that drives me crazy. For the past two days, I've been thinking about it. I can't stop. On the plane, on the bus, in practice, in team meetings … I can't think straight. All I can think about is how hot it would've been if I actually fucked you … but … then, at the same time, I know it's because you turned me down. You made me really want it. That's what gets me so worked up.”
A long, tense pause. I almost thought the call had dropped. That'd suck, because I'd be damned if I could ever admit that shit again. But then I heard her take a deep breath.
“That's … really hot, Hunter. I've been thinking about you non-stop, too,” she admitted—and I think it surprised her just as much as it surprised me.
“Oh? Tell me.”
She wrestled with whether she should tell me or not, and a muffled but sexy moan escaped her. Hearing her voice like that made my cock stir and lengthen in my boxers.
“Okay. Fine. I keep seeing these naughty visions, same as you, all day long. I felt you that night, Hunter—you were so hard. I wanted it so bad … that was the hardest thing I've ever done—sending you home. Fuck.”
The sound of her voice alone could inspire a man to blow his load—let alone the filthy words actually coming out of this innocent girl's mouth! The crotch of my boxers rose sky-high.
“Damn, baby, you just made me so hard.”
“Oh …”
I whispered
into the phone. “You in bed?”
“Yeah.”
“What're you wearing?”
“Hunter!” She paused. Then she lowered her voice, to share a naughty secret: “A camisole. No bra. Panties.”
I slipped off my boxers and slowly tugged myself, up and down, up and down. “Oh, yeah,” I grunted.
She gasped. “Are you playing with yourself?”
“Hell yeah. Join me.”
“Never. You're sick.”
“Come on, it'll be fun.”
I thought she might hang up. But she didn't. I played with myself, and she listened, until, eventually, her breathy puffs of air teased my ear. I knew exactly what she was doing.
“Liar …! You are touching yourself.”
Amused she'd been caught, she laughed softly: “Hm!”
“Oh, damn. Honor, you're so fucking hot.”
I jerked myself faster, harder, my abs straining with pleasure as I imagined that sexy girl on the other end of this phone. I could picture her lying in bed, nipples tenting her camisole, her delicate fingers circling her panties, teasing her hard clit, her ass rising off the mattress with eager thrusts.
“I wanna hear you moan. Moan for me, baby.”
She refused. “Mm-nn.”
But slowly, softly, that mm-nn turned into an “mm.”
Then it grew longer. “Mmmm.” Then harder, louder, closer. “Mmm! Ohhh …”
Her heavy breathing was all I needed, and I didn't dare interrupt. I pumped my cock into my fist, a pressure rising from my balls, listening to her sexy moans until she brought me to the limit.
“I'm gonna cum,” I whispered into the phone. “I'm gonna cum so hard for you, Honor—!”
“Oh my God … oh my God … oh my God!” she panted, her voice urging me to climax with her.
“Fuck!” I roared, and I painted my pecs and abs with one streak of cum after another.
Then the storm had passed as quickly as it came, and the two of us were left wondering what the hell was supposed to come next. First? We had to catch our breaths.
“Um … Hunter?” she said at last.
“Yeah, baby?”
“We shouldn't do that again.”
I frowned. “But—”
The line went dead before I could say anymore.