Delayed Offsides

by Shey Stahl

  “Hey,” Ryan caught up with us. “Did you see the security outside?”

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?” I asked, walking with Mase. Remy was behind us, his phone in hand, laughing at some text message.

  “A lot of criminal activity around here recently.” Mase said, shrugging it off.

  It wasn’t any surprise that Chicago had a crime wave lately and the area surrounding the United Center had been hit hard. Vacant lots, abandoned buildings, all environments that lent well to crime.

  “Walk me out.” I said, wrapping my arm around Mase.

  “Don’t I always?” He rolled his eyes, walking with me.

  “Yeah, but today I mean it.” I motioned to Shelby Wright, our smallest guy on the team who was walking behind Remy. “Come on, lil fella. You don’t wanna get jacked.”

  Shelby shook his head but followed.

  “You think he’ll protect me if we get jumped? I’m safer with the fucking mascot!”

  Evan burst out laughing, knowing we all had each other’s backs. The crime around the arena was anything from car jackings to the occasional mugging. With time, the criminals were getting braver and it wasn’t if something bad was going to happen but when.

  “That’s disgusting! Did you have to touch his penis?” Ami asked, curious about our prank on Ryan when we wrapped him in Saran Wrap and took pictures. Ami is about as innocent as they come. It’s entertaining to me that she’s dating Mase now because he’s far from innocent. He enjoys pretending to be, around her, but he’s the first to spin a conversation dirty, only he blames it on me.

  “That’s the thing about hockey players, Ami ...” I bumped Ami’s shoulder with my own sitting down next to her, “we’re nasty motherfuckers and think with our sticks.”

  Mase rolled his eyes, disgusted that I was being honest with his girl. “Not all of us are.”

  “Bullshit.” Remy coughed, barely able to control his laughter. “You ar—”

  Mase punched him. Pussy. Couldn’t take getting his balls busted around his family.

  Maybe I exaggerate when I talk but I have a point to make and damn it, people need to listen. Everyone around us was keyed into our conversation, laughing right along with me as I told them about Shawzer’s new haircut.

  Remy, Callie and I went to Pittsburgh with Mase and Ami for Christmas two days after our game. Sam and Judy Masen, Evan’s parents, always welcomed us which was nice seeing how I had no family around here and neither do Remy or Callie.

  My younger brother Patrick was a fuckin’ leech. I avoided him when I could so thankfully he wasn’t around this Christmas. My mom was living in Australia now. We Skyped before I left but I hadn’t spent a holiday with her in probably two years. And my dad, hadn’t seen him since I was two. Couldn’t tell you what bar that drunk motherfucker was in tonight, or if he was even still alive.

  I liked to drink but I wasn’t my father. No good son of a bitch.

  Looking around the room at everyone, this family was better than anything I had before. All that other shit didn’t matter.

  I noticed Caitlin, Evan’s little sister, sitting by herself on the couch near the tree, her eyes on Remy, and then her brother.

  “Hey Jud-bug,” I gave Judy a wink when she glanced over at me. Judy couldn’t say no to me. I took a seat next to Caitlin, a beer in one hand, a glass in the other. Setting the glass between my legs, I placed my arm around Caitlin and smiled trying to look sweet and innocent. “It’s Christmas, eh. Give her some.”

  I’m very convincing. Sam, Evan’s dad, smiled, shaking his head, as though he wanted nothing to do with this argument and left the decision up to Judy. She didn’t say yes, but she also didn’t say no.

  Caitlin looked curiously at the beer I handed her. “Drink up.”

  I’m not sure if Caitlin had ever had a drink before tonight but I was sure she’d remember this one.

  She did and had the first beer finished in twenty minutes and proceeded to sit on Remy’s lap. Liquid courage did wonders.

  Remy was getting awfully flirty with her and I couldn’t stop laughing. If Mase knew Remy had already kissed his sixteen-year-old sister once he’d kill him. I’m not spilling that detail. No fucking way.

  There were five years between them. In guy years that’s nothing. In big brother years…that’s like twenty. Anything over one year rounds up to twenty in brother years automatically. Translation: Remy was fucked if Mase ever found out. I’ve always wondered who’d lay out who quicker but if a sister is involved, my money was on Mase.

  “I need another beer.” Callie said, handing me her glass when I stood to go retrieve snacks from the kitchen. I winked at her and reached for the glass, our fingers grazing one another. To Callie it’s no big deal that our hands touched. To me, I instantly think of what those hands feel like on my dick. I would know too. I’ve fucked Callie probably more than anyone else.

  It’s hard to control myself around Callie. Everything she does turns me on, even if it’s just drinking beer. She has shamelessly seduced me without even knowing it; has driven me mad with her wanton ways. In her defense, she wasn’t trying to torture me but I wanted more from her. I wanted her body in ways I couldn’t even begin to describe with words that would do my thoughts justice.

  Caitlin watched me pour her beer and the way I twisted the cup created the right amount of head. “It’s always good,” I leaned in letting my chest touch her shoulder, “to have a little head.”

  Callie—who came out of nowhere—punched my shoulder. “Don’t say that to her.”

  “She needs to know these things.” I defended, holding up my palms when I turned to face Callie.

  Callie looked at me, disgusted, and walked over to Remy who was now sitting on Caitlin’s lap, shaking her head and muttering under her breath something about me thinking with the wrong stick. She really had no idea how true that was.

  About ten minutes later, Caitlin came back into the kitchen for round three of the beer festivities. She was turning into a lush already.

  Red faced and weary eyes, she walked slowly into the kitchen, under the archway, as I yelled, “STOP!”

  Caitlin came to an immediate halt wondering why the fuck I was yelling at her. Little did she know she was standing right under the mistletoe.

  “Hey, Caitlin,” I bellowed out, “did you know the word mistletoe translates to dung on a stick?”

  “Are you drunk already? It does not.” Callie said, shaking her head and trying to cover my mouth with her hand. In the process, I spilled a good amount of my beer on her. Served her right. Lucky for me I still had a little in my glass so I kept up with my story.

  “Yes, it does! Based on what I read online, people over the years apparently observed that mistletoe often would grow where birds had taken a shit. So the ancient Anglo-Saxons came up with the name mistletoe which translates to dung and twig…” I took the last drink of my beer trying not to laugh, “so mistletoe actually means dung on a stick.”

  Callie fucking punched me in the shoulder. “None of what you’re saying is true, Leo. Get your facts together.”

  “You can Google that shit, woman!” Little did she know I really just wanted to catch her under the mistletoe and take advantage of her.

  I just smiled as she turned to walk away. Most people know that ninety percent of the shit I spew is bullshit. But sometimes I even impress the hell out of myself.

  “I’m in a very vulnerable state right now,” I told her, not understanding why she couldn’t see that. Turning around, I pulled her to me again and noted her expression hadn’t changed. I stuck out my bottom lip and rubbed my head against her shoulder. Really I just wanted to be closer to her tits I so desperately wanted to lean into her again. “I need comforting.”

  And by comforting I mean for you to suck my dick.

  “Fuck off,” she replied putting her palm in my face and pushing me away. “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass right now for spilling that beer on me”

  She was so mea
n to me.

  “Ma-an,” I groaned, folding my arms over my chest and sticking out my bottom lip again hoping she might take pity on me if I looked wounded.

  “Well, maybe you should think before you speak with your dick next time,” Callie was clearly annoyed with me.

  “Ouch,” I clutched my chest. “That really hurts.” I moved toward her again making her think I was coming in for a hug. Smiling, I think she knew what I was up to so I worked quickly retrieving the beer from her hand and chugged it.

  I like getting her pissed at me because then she gets drunk and she might give me a shot. And by shot, I mean I might get laid.

  “You fucking jerk!”

  I winked at her. “I’ll get you a new one.”

  To anyone else, it was like I was just teasing Callie, but really I was pulling out everything I had that night. Not only was it Christmas and I loved this girl but I hadn’t had sex in weeks. Rare for me. Really fucking rare.

  When we sat down to dinner, she wouldn’t even sit by me. Made me sit next to Granny B, which was fine because if there was one other woman I loved with all of my heart, it was Granny B. She kept me in fucking stitches with her outrageousness.

  “I once spread whipped cream—”

  “Granny B!” Judy scolded her. “Don’t talk like that at the table.” Earlier today Judy had been telling us that Granny B was now in her third nursing home. She kept getting kicked out for inappropriate behavior. The incidences mostly occurred in the dining lounge or when she was offering up sex to the male staff, and on one occasion, the female aid in her room.

  “I was going to say pie.” Granny B smiled reaching for her flask in her bra. Callie, who was seated on the other side of her, started laughing.

  “Sure you were.” Sam replied, never looking up from his food. I don’t think he wanted to see Evan and Ami touching or his only daughter drunk at the dinner table on Christmas. Granny B would have just been the icing on the cake with her pulling a flask from her tits.

  Judy reached across the table to retrieve the flask. “No way.”

  “Can’t a girl have a good time?”

  “Your doctor said no.” Judy said, fighting a little to retrieve the flask.

  Eventually Granny B gave up and let her have it. “Fuck that doctor.”

  “You offered to, remember?”

  Granny B smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I would have blown his mind.” And then she touched my arm turning away from her daughter as if she said nothing at all. “Leo, I’ve been on the naughty list.”

  “Oh yeah?” I can barely talk without laughing.

  “Yep. You may not believe this but I’m in my sexual prime right now. This…” she gestured toward her body and quite possibly the ultimate ugliest Christmas sweater ever, “is something you’d never forget.”

  I laughed it off but just as I was eating my mashed potatoes she started twirling her own mashed potatoes around her plate with her finger and then licked it. She’s fucking eighty-six years old but I couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Granny B!” Mase shouted from beside me. “Stop touching my leg with your foot.”

  “What?” She winked at me never making eye contact with her grandson. “I was trying to touch Leo.”

  “Well, stop it.” Evan grumbled.

  “I like football players.” She said turning back to her food.

  I leaned into her shoulder, smiling. “I play hockey, Granny B.”

  Her eyes found mine. “Even better. I like a man with good stick control. Blow. Your. Mind.”

  Thank God I was only eating mashed potatoes because I started choking trying to contain my laughter.

  Evan leaned into me, still glaring at his grandma and trying to hear what she was saying. Only he couldn’t because Caitlin was drunk and she was a lot like Mase when she’s drunk. Loud. “What’s she talking about now?”

  “Hockey.”

  This was the reason I spent the holidays with the Masen family. Entertainment that you couldn’t buy a ticket to watch. Completely free laughs.

  I looked over at Callie who was now talking to Granny B. “If you don’t take him for a spin tonight, I might.”

  Callie gaped at her, but smiled after a second. “I’ll keep that in mind, Granny B.”

  When everyone had went to bed, or passed out, Callie and I stayed up drinking in the family room with just the lights of the tree illuminating our surroundings. I sat down beside her, bumping my knee with hers. “I got something for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.” I shrugged.

  “What is it?”

  “Guess.” My smile made her smile as she watched my face, hers lit up by the soft golden glow of the lights on the tree. Wide brown eyes scanned mine.

  “Just show me.”

  Sighing, I reached over to my jacket laying across the back of the couch and pulled out the small box. When I sat back down, I placed it between her legs.

  Immediately she gasped when she opened the black box to find the necklace, her hand over her mouth. When she was a little girl she had this necklace with a sparrow on it that she loved. I guess it was the only thing she had of her mother’s. Anyway, she’d lost it years back and always said eventually she was going to get a new one. So I got her one.

  Our eyes connected in the light of the tree, hers rimmed with tears, mine glossy and bloodshot from the alcohol. I knew then there was more to that look. I have to admit, there was a sense of longing building up in my chest now, a yearning to spend time with this girl who owned my heart, savor her presence, and learn more about her. Things she wouldn’t tell just anyone. There was also another craving. I couldn’t help but think with my other head, and the way she looked tonight, radiant and soft, I wanted her. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.

  “Can we go outside?” She asked wiping away tears.

  Instead of saying anything, I stood and moved forward leading her outside. It was fucking freezing out there, a steady snowfall creating the ultimate Christmas images of lights and a soft blanket of white powder below our feet.

  The snow crunched beneath our feet as we walked the empty and quiet street and made a circle around the block in the bitter cold, my ears burning in the subzero temperature. We didn’t say anything because, frankly, I was so fucking cold I didn’t think my lips would move.

  Every house we passed by had their Christmas lights on, some families still awake, others already asleep. It made me wonder how my mom was doing and if she was happy tonight.

  And then I thought about Callie and how our situations were completely opposite. She had a dad. I didn’t. I had a mother. She didn’t.

  In more ways than we knew, we were alike.

  “You okay?” I finally asked when we were approaching the house again praying to God she wanted to go back inside because I was pretty sure that hypothermia had taken over my nether regions as well as a little bit of frost bite to make this night even more memorable.

  Callie hadn’t talked about Dave in months. Maybe it was that it was Christmas or that she was just sad. I thought, right then, I might never know the answer as to why she started crying. But for once, I was there for her. Or I guess you could say she finally let me be there for her emotionally rather than just physically.

  I know something was bothering her and that fake smile she’d had all night was fading. “Come on, what’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie.”

  “Leo… it’s just that… I’ve been thinking a lot about shit and it’s not easy.”

  “About Dave?”

  “Yeah. I was stupid for so long.” She stared at the snow, as if maybe it held the answer, never looking at me. It seemed to me she needed to talk and I wasn’t about to interrupt that. “I look at Evan and Ami and I can’t stop thinking about what happened to her. She looks good. She’s healing so why can’t I get over what happened to me?”

  “Callie—”

  She doesn’t let me say anything. “Why d
id I constantly put myself in that situation time after time when I knew what he was doing?”

  Did she want me to answer now?

  I wasn’t sure so I kept quiet and let her vent.

  I knew a lot more about Callie than most of the other guys she fucked around with. Mostly because I listened. Something others didn’t care about. They were there for one thing. Not me. Well I wanted that one thing. I wanted to fuck her as much as the next guy but I also cared for her. She’d had a rough life so far. You’d never think it looking at her, so put together, good job, pampered, but she was very independent and considering where she’d come from spoke volumes about her as a woman. Being raised by a guy like Ed Pratt couldn’t have been easy. He’s a fucking tool.

  As we walked, every so often our shoulders would bump into one another.

  “You talked to Dave, didn’t you?”

  I nodded not knowing how she’d take it. “I did. Back in June. I had to know why.”

  Her voice was strained from her shivering. “And he said?”

  My brow scrunched, worried this would make her feel worse than she already did. I’m dirty but I have a heart and it belongs to her. Though I’d never tell her that. “Do you really want to hear this?”

  “I think I need to.”

  “He said you deserved it.”

  “He’s probably right.”

  I groaned, unable to hear anymore. “No, he’s not.”

  “I feel guilty. So fucking guilty because I put myself in that situation with Dave. I let him get that rough and I didn’t stand up for myself knowing damn well it wasn’t okay. I should… never should someone treat you like that and think it’s okay. But I feel worse myself because I didn’t say anything.”

  I said what I needed to say to Dave and I probably wouldn’t talk to him again. I’m not one to dwell on the past or things I can’t change. It didn’t stop the fact that I wanted to kill him all over again right then for making Callie think she wasn’t good enough.

  “I… it wasn’t that I was being easy. I hate that women say I’m this way because I have daddy issues. I would never come out and say that’s why because I think it’s a fucking bullshit line. But the more I think about it, the more it comes down to that. I lost my virginity to Wes Taylor when I was sixteen in the locker room with two other guys watching. I never felt ashamed of that, though it wasn’t consensual. I said no many times but it went unheard. What I felt guilty about was that my father knew what happened and said nothing to me. Nothing!”