Wild Tendy (IceCats Book 2)

by Toni Aleo

  I roll over, excited to see her, only to find she isn’t here. I blink a few times. I know I went to bed with her last night. I sit up quickly, looking around. “Aviva?”

  No answer.

  And her clothes are gone.

  And so are her rubber boobs that I had picked up and placed on the nightstand in the night.

  What the fuck?

  I throw the blankets off my naked body and head into the living room. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I’m utterly confused. Why would she leave? I thought we’d go to breakfast, hang out, anything other than her leaving.

  “Aviva?” I call out, but no answer.

  I check the bathroom, the patio, and finally, I accept that she’s not here. I search the house for a note. Something telling me why she left or even her phone number so I can call. Sweat is dripping down my back and beading along my brow. I can’t find any sign of her, and I don’t understand. Did she not have a good time? Did I not satisfy her? Did she not like me?

  My throat starts to tighten as I rack my brain, replaying the whole night. The hot touches, the sweet glances, and the talking. We talked a lot. She shared part of herself that she’s never shared with anyone. Why would she do that if she didn’t want to be here? If she didn’t want to be with me? My heart is pounding in my chest to the point that I need to sit down. I lower myself into a chair as I inhale deeply. Did I let her see too much of me? Was I too honest? Was it the come thing? Did she want me to come on her? She seemed okay with it, didn’t even laugh when I went to get a towel. She was understanding, cool, and even with the cuddling thing, she was good. Or at least, she seemed like she was. Fuck. Why the fuck did she leave?

  No one has ever left. Usually I have to kick women out of my bed, but she left. Just left. No note, no number, no nothing. Gone. I realize I’m breathing really hard, and I sit back in my chair. I lean my head off the side as I draw in deep breaths and let them out. What if it was all a lie? What if she thought I was a head case? I had mentioned my therapist a few times. Did she figure it out? Fuck me… What the hell happened?

  I feel like I’m suffocating. My eyes are crossing, and I feel my skin crawling. What if she figured it out and couldn’t stand to be near me? What if she thought I was pathetic? What if she thought I was a weirdo? I swallow hard before I stand up quickly, reach for my helmet, and then sit on the floor. I slam it down over my head, needing the protection. I cross my arms over my chest, taking in deep breaths and trying to calm down. As the years have passed, I’ve learned how to cope when I get like this. As pathetic as it is, the helmet helps. Maybe Aviva figured that out, or she assumed so when I wouldn’t let her touch it. It is my grandfather’s, though. My safe haven. Through the cage, I stare at the wall as my vision normalizes. My breathing is still heavy, but my chest doesn’t hurt. I take in deep breaths, forcing myself to let them out slowly.

  “Is there a reason why you’re sitting on the floor, naked, with your helmet on?” I don’t even look at Chandler or acknowledge him. “Is this some kinky sex game you play? I mean, I get you’re good on the ice, but I’ve never known someone to whack off while they wear their gear. Interesting, though I don’t think I’m gonna try it. I get off just fine with my sexy woman.”

  I hear him moving around my kitchen. He is dropping off some food from his mom. She makes me dinners for the week because she spoils me. I lick my lips as I continue to stare at the wall.

  I hear him lean on the counter. “Didn’t you have someone over last night? When I went for my run, the lights were on, and I saw her.”

  Finally, I trust myself to respond. “Yeah.”

  I peel the helmet off and lay it in my lap, though Chandler has seen me naked plenty. Neither of us cares. “Are you okay?”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. “She just left.”

  “Who?”

  “Aviva.”

  “Aviva? That’s a really cool name.”

  It is. She is a cool chick. When she’s not fucking leaving without a word or a note! “She just left. No note. No number. Nothing. Gone.”

  I look up at him as his eyes widen. “This is a first.”

  “It is.”

  He nods and then shrugs. “Dude, it happens. Sometimes it’s good for you but not her—”

  “No!” I roar, standing up and throwing down my helmet. “It was fucking good for both of us. We had a damn good time, and we clicked. For the first time in almost a year, I felt like I could click with someone else other than Shelli.”

  Chandler holds his palms up at me. “Whoa, dude. I didn’t fuck you and leave. Don’t take this out on me.”

  I grip the counter and take in a deep breath. My heart is jackhammering in my chest, and I hate this feeling. What did I do wrong? Nothing. I did nothing wrong. “I was honest, I was up front, and I told her what I did and didn’t like.”

  “Good, but that doesn’t mean that’s why she left. Did she have something to do?”

  “Probably, but why didn’t she leave a note?”

  “Couldn’t find a pen?”

  “Or she thought I was fucking crazy!” I yell, shaking my head and feeling stupid. “This is why I keep shit to myself—”

  “But you don’t. You try, but then things get messy and you freak.”

  He’s right, but still. “Whatever. I just don’t understand. I told her I didn’t like bars, and that’s how we ended up here—”

  “Was it a line to get her here?”

  I mush my brows together. “What?”

  “Did she think it was a hookup?”

  “No,” I say, but then I’m unsure. “Well, I don’t know. I mean, it wasn’t a line for me. It wasn’t a hookup for me.”

  “Did you tell her that? Did you two talk about it?”

  I give him a dry look. “No, Chandler, we were too busy fucking!”

  He rolls his eyes. “Then what do you expect?”

  “Dude, you don’t get it!” I yell, heading to my bedroom since my cock keeps slapping my thighs. I reach for a pair of shorts. “She shared shit with me, and I thought I meant something to her.”

  “What shit?”

  “Personal shit. I’m not telling you!”

  I walk back out, and he’s staring at me. “Why, thank you so much. I know you think that thing is too big to contain, but it’s not.”

  “Shut up,” I grumble at him as I run my fingers through my hair. “I just don’t get it.”

  “Why are you so upset? So, she left. Go find someone else. You’re not hurting for females.”

  “No, it was different. She’s different. Fuck.” I inhale sharply as I crouch down, cradling my head. “I actually feel something when I’m with her. Like, I want to be myself. Damn it. What if she isn’t into me? What if this was all a joke? But it doesn’t seem like that.”

  I feel him staring at me. “Nico.” I glance up, but I don’t want to look in his eyes. “What in the hell is going on?”

  I shrug, and I feel so small. I’m bigger than Chandler in every way, but right now, I feel like I come to his waist. “It’s the same shit, different girl.”

  “What?”

  “Shelli didn’t want me and left me. Dumped me because I wasn’t Aiden Fucking Cuntbasket Brooks. I thought maybe Aviva wanted me, that I was good enough. I mean, I’m not saying it was love at first sight, let’s get married and have babies, but shit, I wanted her to like me.”

  I know this surprises my best friend and probably confuses him. I don’t share feelings with him much. He’s the touchy-feely one. I don’t know how many times I listened to how much he loved Amelia and blah, blah, blah. Now it’s me. Now I’m blah, blah, blah.

  “Nico, who says she doesn’t? Maybe she had somewhere to be?”

  “Where is the note? The phone number? Dude, I mean, it’s not that hard.”

  Chandler shrugs. “I’m giving her the benefit of doubt that maybe she got overwhelmed and bounced. Figured she’d see you sooner rather than later.”

  I didn’t think of that
. Probably because that’s not how she rolls. When Aviva wants something, she goes for it. That’s why I feel as if she may not have wanted me. Maybe I wasn’t good enough, just like with Shelli. Whoa, am I a scorned man? Did Shelli give me a complex? Damn it.

  “I don’t know, but I think you should give her a second before you freak out.”

  I think that over. I don’t want to give her time or space; I want to know what is going on. “Or I can go to the shop and see her.”

  “Or that,” he says, pointing at me. “But maybe take a day. You were pretty freaked out two seconds ago.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t. I need to know now.”

  When I get to the sub shop, I notice that the sign says closed, but I see Aviva at the counter. She’s dancing around, cutting up stuff as she bobs her head. She looks happy. At least one of us does. I get out, slamming my door behind me as the front door to the shop opens.

  Callie looks at me with a brow raised. “You look ready to fight.”

  “I might be. You leaving?”

  “Yup, the gym calls.”

  “Good.”

  She scoffs. “A little reminder. She’s a fighter too.”

  “I know,” I say, pulling the door open.

  Aviva doesn’t even look back at me. “Forget something?”

  “I didn’t, but it seems you did.”

  She turns then, a knife in one hand and a cucumber in the other. “Nico.”

  “What the hell?”

  “What the hell, what?”

  “Way to leave me hanging this morning.”

  She seems a little taken aback. “I had to come home. I have this order for the IceCats I have to prepare.” She holds out her arms to indicate where the platters and trimmings for sandwiches are set out, but I’m still not convinced. “I couldn’t lie in bed all day, and I would have if I hadn’t left.”

  “Bullshit. You couldn’t leave me a note? A number? Anything? Just leave without even saying goodbye. Pretty fucked up.”

  She narrows her eyes a bit as she comes to the counter, leaning into it. “I didn’t want to wake you, and before I could find a pad of paper, my Uber showed up.”

  “Likely excuse,” I accuse, leaning my palms into the counter. “You could have woken me up. I would have driven you home.”

  “It was six in the morning,” she says sharply. “And I don’t like your tone at all.”

  “You don’t like my tone?” I ask, my voice getting a bit higher. “Well, I don’t like when the girl I went to bed with just runs out on me.”

  “I didn’t run out on you! I figured you’d come in today and we could talk or whatever.”

  “And what if I didn’t?”

  “Then it would have been what I thought.”

  “Huh?”

  “If you didn’t, I would have assumed it was just a one-night stand.”

  “You thought it was a one-night stand?” I roar, and her eyes darken as she narrows them into slits.

  She holds up a finger. “First of all, Nico, you need to lower your voice—”

  “No. I never said it was a one-night stand, and neither did you. So why would you think that?” I ask incredulously. “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, because we didn’t talk about it? I didn’t want to assume anything, and who knows… You’re known for having fun.”

  I press my hand to my chest. “I’m known for having fun? What the fuck?”

  “Tinder? Stalkers? I mean, shit, Nico, you don’t scream one-woman man.”

  “Are you serious? I never said I was, but I also never made you feel like all I wanted was to fuck you!”

  “Well, maybe I was just fucking you!”

  I press my lips together. “Were you? Was that all it was? A mindless fuck?”

  She looks away, placing the knife and then the cucumber on the counter. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “No! Stop repeating what I’m saying!”

  “Then make some fucking sense!”

  “What do you want me to say? I was dreaming up our future life? No, I was freaking out because I shared my scars with you, and then I was coming out of my mind. So, no, I wasn’t thinking of anything at the time. My day was going pretty fucking great so far, I was excited about seeing you, but now you’ve pissed me the hell off.”

  “And you don’t think I’m pissed? You ran out on me—”

  “For the love of God, Nico, suck up your pride. I didn’t walk out on you! I had to work. I told you from the jump I’m one busy bitch and that I don’t have time for this. I told you that.”

  “So, that’s that?”

  She blinks. “What?”

  “I get that you don’t have time. I don’t either. But I wanted to make time for you.”

  She takes in a deep breath, her eyes locked on mine. Her eyes are watery, but I know she won’t cry. She’s too strong for that, but I’ve pissed her off real good. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  I nodded slowly. “I wanted you to say that you wanted to try.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Nico, be real. I’m hardly your type.”

  “Hardly my type. How the fuck do you know my type?”

  “Google shows all.”

  I’m disgusted. “You Googled me?”

  “I did when I found out who you were, and I saw the girls you were with. I saw you with Shelli Adler. She’s a fucking goddess compared to me.”

  “Google can kiss my ass, ’cause when I think of my type, I see you.” I shake my head as I push off the counter. “And Shelli isn’t even comparable to you.”

  Her cheeks fill with color. “Nico, you could do better.”

  “Stop it with this fucking pity party. You are perfect to me, even when you piss me the fuck off.”

  “Hardly.”

  “I don’t agree.” I start for the door. “Let me know when you find your confidence and realize that who you are is more than I could even fathom wanting me. When I say I want someone, I want them. And, Aviva, I want you. Only you.”

  As I slam the door behind me, I’m startled when Callie looks over at me. She lets out a long breath. “So, my sister found her match.”

  I scoff. “I don’t think she’d agree.”

  “Well, she’s an idiot.”

  Funny, I want to defend Aviva. “See ya, Callie.”

  “Bye, Nico. Hopefully not for long.”

  Hopefully.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aviva

  “Vee, the game is on!”

  I ignore Callie in the living room, even though she is only five feet away from me. Our living room and kitchen area are attached. It’s old, but eh, it’s charming. I can see the team on TV, and oh look, the camera is zooming in on Nico. I roll my eyes as I lean on my counter. Jaylin is sitting on the barstool in front of me with a glass of wine dangling from her fingers. There is a glass in front of me too, but I’m on a whole other level of annoyance. Which probably means I should be drinking it. I’m not, though. I still can’t believe the phone call I just got. My car is totaled, and I have to get another one. And also, Nico is an asshole.

  Someone pass the lube.

  “I don’t even know what I am going to do.”

  Jaylin, with compassion in her eyes, taps my hand. “I told you. I have an extra car. You can buy it.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t take handouts.”

  “It’s not a handout. I’m legit selling it to you.”

  I give her a skeptical look. “You’re gonna sell it to me?”

  She nods, looking prissy as all fuck in her beautiful, expensive suit. I should have gone to law school too. Maybe my life would have been different. “Yes, for the fair price of a hundred dollars.”

  I squint at her. “Isn’t it a new car?”

  She shrugs. “It’s like a 2017. It’s old.”

  Pain in my ass. “No, I’ll figure it out.”

  “I’ll have Kirby drop it off tomorrow.�
�

  I raise my brow. “No. And Kirby? You’re still seeing him?”

  She gives me a pointed look. “Yes, Aviva. I give my number to the guys I fuck, and I leave notes.”

  I glare. “Whatever. You weren’t here when Nico came in. I just don’t know who the hell he thinks he is. He was so upset, like I had kicked his dog or some shit. I just didn’t leave a note!” I say in a yell-whisper because I don’t want Callie hearing my drama. Since I’ve never had boy drama, it figures mine would involve the hottest dude in Carolina.

  Jaylin shrugs. “I don’t know why you didn’t leave a note.”

  “You know why,” I sneer at her, glaring. “I didn’t know if he wanted to see me again. I wasn’t putting myself out there.”

  “’Cause God forbid, he did and would call and things would be good.” With an annoyed shrug, she says, “You sabotage yourself.”

  I gawk at her. “Do you even love me?”

  She giggles around her wine before taking a sip. “Keeping it 100, sis.”

  I let out an annoyed sigh. “I don’t self-sabotage things.”

  “No, like, for real. Shitty things happen so much around here that it’s the only thing you know. So, why wouldn’t this turn out that way? Which is why you self-sabotaged it.”

  I just blink at her, and before I can tell her she’s stupid, Callie yells out, “Ooh, Nico is pissed. The other team scored in like two minutes.”

  I want to yell that I don’t care. I don’t want to care. Screw him! “You should have seen him, though,” I say, waving my hands in the air. “He was pissed, but not like an ‘I’m gonna beat you up’ kind of pissed, but a ‘hurt’ pissed. Like I’d really hurt him. It was one night!”

  “You would know. You ride that hurt-pissed train a lot.”

  I hold out my hand to her. “Are you done? Can you listen without calling out all my faults?”