Zack
Page 15
“More bottled water,” I muttered, and bent my head back down, trying hard not to smile and thus encourage her. I didn’t miss the high fives she and Ben exchanged over my defeat.
I take a look over at Alex and Garrett pulling their towels and shower kits from their lockers. Maybe I shouldn’t go out tonight. What if something happens to Ben? He gets scared? Or needs me for something? What if he can’t go to sleep because I’m not there to read him his favorite story, The Giving Tree, before I tuck him in?
“You there, Hell on Skates?” Kate asks, breaking into my insecure thoughts, and I swing my gaze back to the front of my locker.
“Much better than Miss Sparkly Skates,” I say drily. “Are you sure you’re okay by yourself with Ben tonight?”
“We’ll be fine,” she assures me confidently. “Besides, I don’t let him play with dynamite after dinner.”
I suppress the snort that wants to break forth and instead tell her, “If anything happens, call me. Also don’t hesitate to call Michelle either.”
This time it’s Kate who snorts, rather loudly and unladylike, at the mention of my neighbor. She clearly wasn’t impressed with her when I introduced them this past weekend, and I totally get why. Michelle was…well, sort of a bitch to Kate, which is not surprising. Michelle is always sort of bitchy to most people, with the exception of Gina, and of course, after Gina died, she became much nicer to me.
I mean a lot nicer.
Almost…too nice.
Not to Kate, though. When I introduced them, Michelle slowly rolled her gaze over Kate, taking in the baggy clothes she favored wearing, the hair pulled up and away severely from her face, and the thick-framed glasses she sported. She gave her a plastic smile and ignored Kate’s hand that was outstretched to her in greeting. Instead, she turned to me and said, “If she needs any help or guidance or you have any concerns, you know I’m here for you and Ben.”
Now, as a man who has pretty much ignored everything and anything around him for the past four months and has been basically immune to the world, even I was appalled at her snub to Kate. I felt the weird need to stand up for Kate, so I just said, “Kate’s doing a great job. She has it all covered.”
Michelle is a piece of work. She’s twice divorced, having dumped husband number two more than a year ago because he was cheating on her. It didn’t make her give up on men, though. Gina told me that within a week of the papers being signed, Michelle proudly stated that she was already on the hunt for husband number three. Since she was getting up in advanced age—to her, turning thirty was like a death sentence or something—she decided to get some enhancements to help in her quest.
Gina and I couldn’t help but laugh as she first got breast implants, then cheek implants, and then hair extensions, and finally capped it all off with a new slutty wardrobe. She pranced around the neighborhood in low-cut shirts, Daisy Duke shorts, and high heels…in the fucking wintertime.
I shit you not.
Looked fucking ridiculous, but Gina was partial to her, and Ben and Beau got along great, so I put up with their friendship and tolerated her with a friendly smile.
I’ll admit she’s become frustratingly more annoying in the last few months, taking it upon herself to cook for me and Ben a few times a week, which in my estimation gave her an excuse to come over with Beau and try to flirt. Luckily, I was so immersed in depression and guilt, most of it slid right off me. But lately, as I’ve been trying desperately to find things to grasp on to and open myself back up to life, it’s been grating on me.
I sure as shit am not looking to become husband number three to her or anyone. Hell, I couldn’t even bring myself to become husband number one to Gina, and just thinking that makes a fresh wave of culpability slam through me. That I couldn’t even commit myself enough to Gina to make an honest woman of her.
Shaking my head, I clear my throat, which has tightened up. “Listen,” I tell Kate. “I could be really late, so don’t worry. I’ll just see you both in the morning.”
“You got it, HOS,” she says smartly. “And that’s H-O-S…Hell. On. Skates.”
This time I laugh, and I welcome it. It chases the guilt away for a few blessed moments. I disconnect and toss my phone into my gym bag that sits at the bottom of my locker.
I proceed to get out of my practice gear, throwing the sweaty uniform in the massive rolling laundry cart that sits in the corner of the locker room and which the equipment manager will handle washing later. I grab my towel and shower kit and walk into the showers. It’s filled with my teammates, laughing and joking as they wash the sweat of a good practice and an even better season off of themselves.
I let it all in…the camaraderie, the joking, the unity and bonding that happen among a close-knit team. These men were all there for me when Gina died. They all supported me through my recovery and never once made me feel as if I wouldn’t be back out on the ice with them one day.
Next to Ben, the Cold Fury team is the only thing that is giving me the fortitude to want to fight my way out of misery and try to lead a happy life again.
Chapter 6
Kate
I close the book I’m reading and place it on the nightstand beside my bed, not able to get immersed in the sweeping epic romance of a lifetime. Or some crap like that.
Normally, I’m a true romantic at heart. You may not know it by looking at me, but I am the type of woman who hopes her knight in shining armor comes to sweep her up one day. I know it’s a long shot, especially since I don’t do anything to encourage said knight to look my way.
I take a look over at Alex and Garrett pulling their towels and shower kits from their lockers. Maybe I shouldn’t go out tonight. What if something happens to Ben? He gets scared? Or needs me for something? What if he can’t go to sleep because I’m not there to read him his favorite story, The Giving Tree, before I tuck him in?
“You there, Hell on Skates?” Kate asks, breaking into my insecure thoughts, and I swing my gaze back to the front of my locker.
“Much better than Miss Sparkly Skates,” I say drily. “Are you sure you’re okay by yourself with Ben tonight?”
“We’ll be fine,” she assures me confidently. “Besides, I don’t let him play with dynamite after dinner.”
I suppress the snort that wants to break forth and instead tell her, “If anything happens, call me. Also don’t hesitate to call Michelle either.”
This time it’s Kate who snorts, rather loudly and unladylike, at the mention of my neighbor. She clearly wasn’t impressed with her when I introduced them this past weekend, and I totally get why. Michelle was…well, sort of a bitch to Kate, which is not surprising. Michelle is always sort of bitchy to most people, with the exception of Gina, and of course, after Gina died, she became much nicer to me.
I mean a lot nicer.
Almost…too nice.
Not to Kate, though. When I introduced them, Michelle slowly rolled her gaze over Kate, taking in the baggy clothes she favored wearing, the hair pulled up and away severely from her face, and the thick-framed glasses she sported. She gave her a plastic smile and ignored Kate’s hand that was outstretched to her in greeting. Instead, she turned to me and said, “If she needs any help or guidance or you have any concerns, you know I’m here for you and Ben.”
Now, as a man who has pretty much ignored everything and anything around him for the past four months and has been basically immune to the world, even I was appalled at her snub to Kate. I felt the weird need to stand up for Kate, so I just said, “Kate’s doing a great job. She has it all covered.”
Michelle is a piece of work. She’s twice divorced, having dumped husband number two more than a year ago because he was cheating on her. It didn’t make her give up on men, though. Gina told me that within a week of the papers being signed, Michelle proudly stated that she was already on the hunt for husband number three. Since she was getting up in advanced age—to her, turning thirty was like a death sentence or something—she decided to get some enhancements to help in her quest.
Gina and I couldn’t help but laugh as she first got breast implants, then cheek implants, and then hair extensions, and finally capped it all off with a new slutty wardrobe. She pranced around the neighborhood in low-cut shirts, Daisy Duke shorts, and high heels…in the fucking wintertime.
I shit you not.
Looked fucking ridiculous, but Gina was partial to her, and Ben and Beau got along great, so I put up with their friendship and tolerated her with a friendly smile.
I’ll admit she’s become frustratingly more annoying in the last few months, taking it upon herself to cook for me and Ben a few times a week, which in my estimation gave her an excuse to come over with Beau and try to flirt. Luckily, I was so immersed in depression and guilt, most of it slid right off me. But lately, as I’ve been trying desperately to find things to grasp on to and open myself back up to life, it’s been grating on me.
I sure as shit am not looking to become husband number three to her or anyone. Hell, I couldn’t even bring myself to become husband number one to Gina, and just thinking that makes a fresh wave of culpability slam through me. That I couldn’t even commit myself enough to Gina to make an honest woman of her.
Shaking my head, I clear my throat, which has tightened up. “Listen,” I tell Kate. “I could be really late, so don’t worry. I’ll just see you both in the morning.”
“You got it, HOS,” she says smartly. “And that’s H-O-S…Hell. On. Skates.”
This time I laugh, and I welcome it. It chases the guilt away for a few blessed moments. I disconnect and toss my phone into my gym bag that sits at the bottom of my locker.
I proceed to get out of my practice gear, throwing the sweaty uniform in the massive rolling laundry cart that sits in the corner of the locker room and which the equipment manager will handle washing later. I grab my towel and shower kit and walk into the showers. It’s filled with my teammates, laughing and joking as they wash the sweat of a good practice and an even better season off of themselves.
I let it all in…the camaraderie, the joking, the unity and bonding that happen among a close-knit team. These men were all there for me when Gina died. They all supported me through my recovery and never once made me feel as if I wouldn’t be back out on the ice with them one day.
Next to Ben, the Cold Fury team is the only thing that is giving me the fortitude to want to fight my way out of misery and try to lead a happy life again.
Chapter 6
Kate
I close the book I’m reading and place it on the nightstand beside my bed, not able to get immersed in the sweeping epic romance of a lifetime. Or some crap like that.
Normally, I’m a true romantic at heart. You may not know it by looking at me, but I am the type of woman who hopes her knight in shining armor comes to sweep her up one day. I know it’s a long shot, especially since I don’t do anything to encourage said knight to look my way.
