Wingmen are a Girl's Best Friend: Laketown Hockey

by A. J. Wynter

“Thanks,” Gunnar said.

  I waited for an anecdote, some reason why he chose that particular wine, but there was nothing. I was starting to get the feeling that the conversation was going to be harder than pulling out one of his perfect teeth.

  The wine had settled my nerves, and the lap of the waves as they rolled under the dock relaxed my body. The sun was making its way to the horizon, the pastel pink of the sky hinting that the sunset would be spectacular. In the golden hour lighting, Gunnar looked drop-dead gorgeous. I glanced around the deck, and even amongst the crowd of pro athletes, celebrities, and people who just generally took really good care of themselves, the man across from me stood out among them. I had landed a date with the best-looking guy in town.

  And he was a total bore.

  But those lashes and those cheekbones, yum. He adjusted his side plate and tapped his fingers against the base of his wine glass. I wondered if he was nervous. Maybe he had all sorts of funny anecdotes and cute quirks that just needed time to come out.

  “Tell me more about the competition.” I took a sip of wine.

  His eyes lit up and he leaned into the conversation. He was obviously passionate about hockey.

  By the time our meals arrived, I was half in the bag. Gunnar had droned on and on about tape-to-tape, Bardownskis, and light lamps – all of which I assumed were hockey terminology. It was like he was speaking a different language. The only thing I recognized was biscuit – that was the puck. My glass kept getting filled up while Gunnar waxed poetic about the different barns – known to us normal people as arenas – that he’d played in. Spoiler alert: Laketown’s was the best.

  “Wow. That’s huge.” Gunnar pointed to the burger on my plate. It was the bison applewood burger, and it was delicious.

  “That looks like a nice salad.” I couldn’t think of anything witty or cute to say about the very healthy salad he’d ordered for dinner.

  That’s when I realized I didn’t care about Gunnar at all. The burger was definitely not first-date approved. It was going to be messy, and I might walk out with the top button of my shorts undone. Besides, what man orders a salad on a date? Especially after I’d ordered a burger. I didn’t want to think of him, but Leo popped into my mind. Leo would never order a salad, at least not on purpose.

  I suffered through more hockey talk and then told Gunnar about the design trends for the season. He nodded as I went on a rant about toile, and I saw the moment when his eyes glazed over.

  Our waitress returned with a bottle of expensive-looking champagne. “From the table at the bar.”

  I turned to see some men in suits that I didn’t recognize.

  “Would you like to order some dessert? Perhaps some strawberries to go with the Dom?” she suggested.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  Gunnar shook his head and held up his hands. I wasn’t surprised that the guy who ordered the salad wasn’t going to finish off his meal with a lava cake.

  “Who are those guys?” I asked, eyeing up the tiny bubbles in the champagne flute.

  “I’m not sure,” Gunnar said, but his eyes looked sketchy. I didn’t know him well, but the man couldn’t lie. “Are they scouts?” I whispered.

  Gunnar pursed his lips and repeated, “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, whoever they are, they have good taste in champers.” I held up my glass and Gunnar met mine. The bubbles tingled on my tongue and even though the date was like watching paint dry – something that I literally did for a living – the bubbly almost made it worth it.

  One of the suit guys stood up and walked toward our table. “They’re coming over,” I said mid-sip.

  “Gunnar, nice to see you, buddy.”

  Gunnar shot me a guilty look. “Thank you for the wine, sir.” Gunnar stood and shook the man’s hand. “This is my date, Faith.” Gunnar presented me like a showroom car.

  “Faith. A pleasure to meet you.” He shook my hand and then was back to business with Gunnar. “Why don’t you join us for drinks after your dinner.”

  “Sure.” Gunnar smiled.

  “Catch you later.” The silver-haired man in the impeccably tailored suit made his way back to the other silver-haired men in equally impressive suits.

  “Still don’t know them?” I finished the glass of champagne and raised my eyebrows at Gunnar.

  He didn’t answer my question. “Come on, let’s go mingle with them.” Standing, he reached for my hand. He hadn’t asked if I wanted to join the old boys’ club, and he had lied straight to my face.

  “You know what, Gunnar?” I set the napkin on the table and stood up. “You go join them. I’ll get a cab.”

  “I couldn’t do that.” Gunnar looked to me and then to the bar.

  “I insist.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “I get the feeling those men are important.” His shoulders dropped, the relief visible on his face.

  He held both my arms and I tensed as he moved in for a kiss. I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I could feel several sets of eyes watching this moment. I wouldn’t cause a scene, but I wasn’t up for a public make out session. Shit. He pulled me closer, and I closed my eyes. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the respectable peck on the cheek caught me off guard. It was the kind of kiss I saw businesspeople do in the movies.

  He whispered in my ear, “I had a great night, Faith. You’re so beautiful.”

  Had we been at the same table? Our conversation had been mediocre at best. Gunnar saw what every other man saw in me – my looks. “Thank you so much for dinner, Gunnar.” I squeezed his hand. “Good luck with the suits.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Gunnar said.

  “Bye,” I said, but he had already turned away and was headed through the crowd – who had parted ways for the king of the Otters to pass through.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped outside the noise of the restaurant. The sky was a spectacular ombre, starting with the pale pink of a rose and graduating to the purple of a lilac petal. The wind on my cheeks was warm. I started to take my phone out to call a cab but stopped. It was the perfect night for a walk.

  My hair blew in the breeze as I walked down the main street of town. The line for the ice cream shop spilled out onto the sidewalk and I had to squeeze through the crowd to pass by. The downtown stores all had gorgeous window displays and I paused in front of each one to admire the very chic, very expensive, designer clothes.

  I paused in front of the store that usually sold my favorite yoga clothes. This season it sat empty and there was a For Lease sign in the window. “No,” I said to no one. It was my favorite store, and I was sad to see that it wasn’t back for the season. But I looked past my reflection in the window and instead, a whole new world started to appear, one that included fabric swatches and a fully designed kitchen with custom appliances. Right now, Mel D Designs functioned out of a log home in the middle of nowhere. My mom loved it, but we didn’t have any walk-in traffic. I knew she would never move from that location, but I could totally see Amber and me poring over plans, meeting clients, getting coffee and waffle cones for late-night meetings – all in the space in front of me. I took a photo of the For Lease sign and a spark ignited in me. An excitement bloomed in my chest, the same kind of excitement I’d felt when Amber and I had started the seasonal design business. It felt the opposite of the way I’d felt on the date with Gunnar – everything in my body was screaming ‘yes’ for this retail location.

  Continuing my walk, I planned how I would approach Mom. If I put together a proper business plan, she just might go for it. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear the rumbling muffler and grinding gears of the beat-up truck slowing down behind me until it was right beside me.

  Leo.

  Thirteen

  Leo

  The windshield in my truck had a billion cracks. When the sun shone directly at me, a bunch of psychedelic-looking prisms beamed into the cab. It was kind of trippy, but not ideal for driving. Tonight, the light show was particula
rly awesome because of the sunset. I brushed at some of the brown Moofie fur that had woven its way into my T-shirt. The wind rattled my windows and almost drowned out the song on the radio, one of Taylor Swift’s old hits. I hummed along and wondered how I knew the tune to the pop song.

  A pair of long legs caught my eye as I approached the bridge. The sun glinted off her blonde hair and I shielded my eyes, wondering if it was who I thought it was. I couldn’t ignore the clench in my gut at the sight of those toned thighs, and I shifted uncomfortably as my cock noticed just how short her jean shorts were. I took a deep breath. Faith and I had just made up. She was my friend, and I wanted her in my life more than almost anything. We couldn’t fuck it up by sleeping together.

  The truck rattled as I downshifted to her walking speed. She seemed lost in thought. I wondered what she was thinking about. She looked serene, and whatever she was daydreaming about must’ve been good. I almost didn’t honk, but I’m so glad that I did.

  She jumped even though I’d tried to give the horn just a couple of friendly taps. She put her hand on her chest, but when she saw that it was just me, she shook her head and then smiled. Warmth spread through my chest. It was her real smile – one that I would give my right arm to see on her face every day.

  “Hi, Leo.” She kept walking.

  I felt a little stalker-like holding up traffic as I crept along beside her.

  “How was your date?” I couldn’t help it.

  “None of your business, friend.” The bite in her voice cut hard.

  “I’m sorry,” I shouted over the honking behind me.

  “For what?” She didn’t look at me and kept walking.

  I stuck my arm out the window and waved for the impatient driver to pass. “Everything,” I shouted. “I was an asshole.”

  The side of her lips turned up. “What time?”

  “Want a ride?” I didn’t wait for her to answer, but leaned over and opened the door, and came to a stop just ahead of her. She put her hands on her hips. “Come on, it’s a long way home.”

  “I’m enjoying my walk, thank you very much.” She stepped around the ajar door with purpose.

  “Come on, Faith.” I turned up the Taylor Swift song. “It’s your favorite.” I was shouting over Shake it Off. It had been her favorite when it came out years ago. She stopped and turned. I felt ridiculous blaring the pop song in full view of the ice cream shop line, but I didn’t care. I could tell Faith was amused. Gunnar was a serious fuck, and I knew that Faith liked to laugh. I dug into the depths of my brain to find the words and started singing along. I gave the door another push so that it fully opened.

  “Get in, loser,” I shouted, dancing in my seat.

  To my surprise, she did.

  The song ended just as I pulled away and she turned down the volume. “Thanks for the lift.” She smiled and looked out the window, her hair blowing in the breeze.

  An old Springsteen song came on and The Boss was the only voice in the truck as we drove through town. Faith was the first to speak. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem. I didn’t want to hear you whining about the blisters you’re going to get walking miles in those shoes.”

  The shoe. I gave Gunnar that damn shoe and he paid me back by talking shit about me to Faith. I was so pissed at him. Faith looked down at her strappy sandals and then groaned. “My shoe. That was the whole reason for the… date.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  Faith sighed. “He doesn’t see me.”

  I nodded and thought I understood what she meant. Faith was one of the wittiest women I’d ever met, but a lot of people wrote her off because she was so beautiful.

  “Well, he’s an idiot.”

  “Thanks.” She started picking at her nails, a habit of hers that I knew well. She did it when she was nervous. “It’s a pretty sunset.”

  The setting sun had cast an orange glow around Faith, and I had never seen her look more beautiful. “It is.” I agreed. But I wasn’t talking about the sunset.

  I pulled a can of beer from the cooler in the back seat and offered it to her. “It’s cold. I just bought a six-pack.”

  “Thanks.” She took the beer from me, but before I let go, I opened the tab for her. She glanced around and then took a sip. “Small town living…” she held the beer and relaxed into the ripped seat. Instead of heading toward Faith’s house, I turned down a back road.

  “Want to go for a drive?” I asked.

  She took another sip. “Sure, but not a booze cruise.”

  I never drove drunk, but I would occasionally have a beer on the road. I knew it was stupid, but that’s the way it was here in Laketown. “I’ll wait until we get there.”

  I waited for her to ask where, but she didn’t.

  As I navigated through the series of forks in the road, she finished her beer and set the can between her legs. I wondered if she knew how sexy she was. She had to. Her whole life guys had lined up to buy her drinks, and she turned heads wherever she went. What had Gunnar done to mess things up with her?

  “Tawny Rock. I haven’t been here in years.” She set the can on the floor amongst the coffee cups.

  I parked on the side of the road and we made our way down the path to the clearing on Tawny Rock. The sun hung heavily over the horizon as we reached the shoreline. A good Samaritan had left a pile of kindling in the fire pit.

  “Have you got a piece of paper in that giant bag?” I asked.

  Faith pulled a notebook from her purse and ripped out a few blank pages. “Here you go.” She crumped them into little balls and set them in my hand. I pulled a lighter from my pocket and started the fire.

  “Boy Scouts paid off.” Faith took a beer from the six-pack and handed it to me, flicking the top open just like I had done for her. She opened her own and held it up.

  “To Laketown,” she said.

  “Laketown?”

  “Yeah, for bringing us back together – as friends.” Her eyes met mine and I cursed myself for pushing her away earlier.

  “I can celebrate that.” I clinked my can to hers and took a sip. I would’ve given anything to take back the friend comment from earlier. The fire crackled at our feet and we both sat down on one of the logs that functioned as a bench.

  “Are you going to miss it?” Faith asked.

  “Miss what?”

  The lake was glass calm, and water bugs left circles as they scattered along the surface.

  “Laketown. When you get signed and become a big hockey star?”

  I thought about it for a minute. “Laketown will always be home. What about you?”

  The first fireflies sparked in the darkening sky as the sun sank lower behind the treeline. “Fireflies.” She smiled and pointed. “Remember catching them?”

  “I do. And I remember your pet salamander,” I laughed.

  “I found him under a rock.” She turned and looked into the darkness of the forest behind us. “Somewhere over there.”

  “Back when you were scared of the rope swing.” I leaned into her. The temperature was dropping, but her skin felt warm against mine.

  She resisted my lean and pressed into me. “I was never scared of the rope swing.” The amber flecks in her eyes glinted in the light of the campfire. She didn’t answer my question about Laketown, and I didn’t push her to respond. I knew that she couldn’t wait to get out and start her life somewhere else.

  “Yes, you were.” I laughed. “I never saw you do it. Not once.”

  She followed the sparks from the fire as they rose into the sky and then stood up. “Hold this.” She handed me her beer.

  “What are you doing?” She strode down the path away from the fire.

  “Look away, Leo,” she ordered.

  Faith took her t-shirt off and hung it in a tree and when she undid the top button on her shorts, I instantly got rock hard. I almost dropped the can of beer onto the rock.

  “You’re staring.” She made a twirling motion with her finger and I foll
owed her orders. Which was a good thing; watching her step out of those shorts would’ve pushed me over the edge in a very embarrassing, pants-ruining kind of way.

  I stared into the fire, trying to distract my body from what it had just witnessed. I wasn’t sure when it was safe to look, so I kept hyper-focused on the flickering flame. Just when I thought it had been too long, I heard a squeal and then a splash. In the twilight, I could see the rope swinging wildly above the silhouette of Faith’s head as she treaded water beneath it.

  “You did it!” I stood and threw my arms into the air.

  “Your turn.” Her giggles rippled across the water and echoed off Tawny Rock.

  I didn’t have to be convinced. The lake was going to feel good after such a hot day, and as I ran to the rope, I felt an exhilaration like I’d never felt before. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. It wasn’t because of the sunset, or the warm summer breeze. It was because of the woman in the water.

  The rope retrieving stick had been there for years, its ends worn smooth from the many hands that had used it. I batted the rope towards me and tossed my shirt and shorts onto Faith’s clothes.

  “Come on, slowpoke.” Faith splashed at me, but the drops fell short.

  I leaped into the air, suspended for a moment while the rope was slack, my arms jerking the moment the rope caught up to me, as I soared toward the water and then up to the sky. This wasn’t my first rope swing rodeo, and I released the rope at the perfect time, arched my back, and let the world spin not once, but twice. When my double backflip was completed, I realized the water was a lot closer than it should’ve been.

  “Oof,” I grunted as my body slapped into the surface of Lake Casper. Bubbles and darkness surrounded me, and I saw Faith’s legs, glowing in the moonlight under the surface, her feet kicking slow circles to keep her above water. In two strokes, I was close enough to touch her. I could’ve pulled her under, which would’ve been a funny and immature move – one that I would’ve pulled a couple of years ago.

  Instead, I swam toward the darkening sky and surfaced in front of Faith, close enough that I could’ve touched her.