Heartless Player: A College Hockey Romance : (Westfall U Series)

by R. C. Stephens

  “That was so sweet, Darren,” Holland says, batting her lashes.

  “And I meant it in a big brother kind of way,” Darren clarifies, inching away from us.

  “Burgers are up,” Colin, the assistant chef, says, placing our cheeseburgers on the window between the bar and the kitchen.

  “Eat up, sunshine. I need to get home and study,” Holland says.

  “Seriously? You’re going to study? It’s two o’clock in the morning,” I say, flabbergasted.

  “You know me,” Holland says. “Besides, I need to use all the energy from the cheeseburger I’m about to eat. No point in wasting it.”

  Yeah, I know Holland. She’s all work and little play. I bite into my burger and try to push the golden boys out of my head. But how can I? When they see me, they don’t see a whole person. A part of me is missing. Hell, I still wake up some nights thinking my leg is there. I know it shouldn’t matter. That it shouldn’t define who or what I am, but it does, and I hate it.

  Two

  Wolfe

  * * *

  “Wolfe, you got lucky this time,” my orthopaedic surgeon, Dr. Egerton, says. “I think with some hard work, you can make it back on the ice in a month. The team has top-notch therapists. My suggestion is to take it slow. Don’t push things.”

  “I’ve been out of the game two months already. I need to prove my worth this season. I can’t afford to get kicked off the team,” I tell Dr. Egerton, whom I’ve known since I was a kid. He and his wife Trudy happen to be good friends with my parents.

  “I don’t want to get involved in your personal business,” he begins, because of course my father must have confided in him that I refused to take a cent of my college tuition from my parents. My sister Cait and I grew up alongside Dr. Egerton’s kids, Marcus and Evelyn. If Dad had a secret to share, it would be with him. Dr. Egerton continues, “I just want to drive the point home that if you get on the ice too soon, you risk another injury you may not come back from. The break was clean in medical terms, but you need to rebuild the muscle tissue around the bone to support the knee.”

  I don’t like the prognosis, but I have to be grateful it wasn’t much worse. “Thank you,” I say, hiding my exasperation. I use my hands to shift off the examination table. Truth is, my leg still hurts and I’m limping, and I need to take it slow.

  “A tensor bandage may take the edge off the pain,” he says, looking up from typing something into his iPad. “I can ask Nurse Linda to get you one.”

  “That’d be great. Thank you,” I say. I should be relieved that my recovery hasn’t taken as long as the doc first anticipated. The bone healed well. Now to get through four weeks of intense physical therapy.

  “You take care of yourself, Wolfe. Say hi to—” he cuts himself off. He was going to tell me to say hi to my parents but must have thought better of it. My parents and I don’t speak. “Just take care,” he finally says with a blink. His lips pinch into a crooked smile.

  “Thanks. You too, Dr. Egerton,” I say and head out of the room where Nurse Linda greats me. She leads me to another room where she gets the tensor bandage on my foot. I thank her and head out.

  The tensor bandage makes my leg feel better, since it gives a little support, and I slowly make my way down the hospital halls and into the elevator. I call an Uber since I wasn’t able to drive here. The Uber takes me back to campus where I share a house with some of my friends from the hockey team. My head is swimming right now. Between falling behind in most of my classes and being unable to play hockey—the thing I love most—I’m tense as hell. The Uber drops me off in front of my house.

  Fucking hell.

  The guys are throwing a party, which is raging and spills onto our front lawn.

  So much for getting caught up on my work. I check my cell to see it’s only four o’clock in the damn afternoon. I need to have a talk with my two roommates, who are also my teammates. Shit is getting out of control lately and it's affecting their performance on the ice.

  “Hey, Wolfe.” A girl name Casey makes her way over to me. “I didn’t see you in Political Economy,” she says, stumbling on I don’t know what. Whatever she has in her red Solo cup spills over the top. We slept together last weekend. I hope she doesn’t think it will happen again. I’m more of a hit it once and move on kind of guy.

  “I was busy,” I answer. No need to give her too much information and let her think she’s somehow important to me.

  She pauses and frowns for the briefest of moments, but it dies quickly and she perks back up. “Do you need me to help you catch up?”

  Truth is, I could use some notes, but not hers. I don’t think she’s listening to the prof half the time, and I actually attend this school because I want to learn something and get good grades. I may be good at hockey, but it isn’t my end goal.

  “That’s all right. I’ll figure something out,” I say. I walk past her up the front steps of our house. I don’t need to open the door because it’s already wide open. Music blasts from the speakers and my friends are pissed drunk, each of them dancing with at least three chicks. So it’s going to be that kind of night.

  “Wolfe, man.” Dec gives me a fist bump. “Congrats on the cast.”

  “Thanks,” I say, fist bumping him back.

  “Hey, everyone, say congrats to Wolfe. Dude can walk again,” Cole shouts.

  Cheers break out in the house. Cole pushes a cold beer into my hand. Partying isn’t my thing, or at least, I’ve been trying to keep a clear head as much as possible. Even though getting wasted on occasion and forgetting about my problems is enticing. I usually walk around feeling a heaviness on me that I can’t get rid of. I take the beer from Cole and sit back on the couch and drink. The icy brew feels good going down my throat, and I just need to unwind a little. Seeing Dr. Egerton makes me think of my parents, which makes me feel inadequate and anxious. Most people who know me think I come across chill and uncaring, but it isn’t the truth. I hide the truth because nobody wants to deal with other people’s problems. Everyone has a boatload they carry, and mine just weigh me down like the fucking Himalayas. I lean my head back and just watch my friends letting loose. I take a few deep breaths, wondering when this guilt will ease. When I’ll go back to feeling normal again.

  “Congrats, Wolfe,” a girl named Sally says as she sits beside me. I haven’t taken her to bed yet and I am definitely interested. Her body is tight and curvy. She’s got on a cropped shirt that pushes her tits together and up real nice and shows her flat, tanned stomach. Even better is that just the thought of planting my dick inside her pulls me from my thoughts and eases the weight on my chest.

  “Thanks, Sally. How are you doing?” I indulge the conversation because I want her. I’m not the most talkative guy on the planet. This is my version of nice. It doesn’t take much for me to get a chick to wrap her lips around my cock, but some easy conversation sure helps in achieving the task.

  “I’ve been okay. I have to prepare a routine for my upcoming dance mid-term,” she says cheerfully. “I was supposed to work on it tonight, but I got sucked into coming here and now I’m def too drunk.” She giggles.

  That’s right, she’s a dance major.

  “You must be very flexible.” I test the waters to see how interested she is.

  Her dark eyes gleam and she moves closer to me, pressing that amazing chest of hers into my arm. Damn, I’m getting a stiffy. “I am,” she says suggestively. “You want to go somewhere quiet so I can show you just how flexible I am?”

  Bingo.

  “Follow me,” I say, getting up from the couch. I take her by the hand and lead her to my room. Having sex is one of the distractions I enjoy most. I’m good at it and make sure my partners have a good enough time that they talk about me around campus, giving me quite the reputation with the ladies.

  It doesn’t take long for our clothes to fly off after that. With her on the bed buck naked, I get to work—or play. I don’t even have to put too much effort in either. My lips
brush her neck and I lower myself to suck her amazing nipples into my mouth. She bucks beneath me all hot and bothered, moaning my name. My finger brushes her clit so I can test the waters and, oh yeah, she is slick and hot. My cock pulses and her eyes drop to it and smolder.

  “Like what you see?” I ask.

  She nods. “It’s so much bigger than I thought it would be.”

  This almost feels like a cliché. I should care that chicks compare notes on my performance, but as captain of the Westfall hockey team, my performance is analyzed all the time, so it doesn’t bother me one bit. Besides, with my parents as the most messed up role models for a relationship, I know I will never settle down. This is as good as it’s going to get. I slide inside her and she’s tight and warm. I do my thing like I always do. Thrusting inside her. Rubbing her in all the right places until she begs me to make her come and then I torture her some more. Torture of the sweetest kind, rubbing my shaft along her wet slit. Having her rub on me like a wanton mess. Fuck, this is hot.

  When she comes, I follow her lead, pumping hard, feeling that oh-so-good feeling of tingles running up my spine and my balls tightening. Here in this moment, I’m not thinking of my messed-up life or anything, really. I’m seeing fucking unicorns and that’s all I need. We ride out the waves of ecstasy and then I fall on the bed beside her. We’re a heap of panting breaths and sweat-slicked skin.

  “That was…”

  “Thanks.” I laugh.

  When I catch my breath, I slide out of bed to discard the condom. It’s an old routine. I hop in the shower, and when she joins me, I grin my wolfish grin and reach into the drawer for another condom. Shower sex is hot. Only she doesn’t let me put on the condom. Instead, she drops to her knees and gives me a blowjob. It’s all the confirmation I need that she was a good choice for tonight. After the BJ, I can tell she wants to get off again, so I finger her until she comes apart on my hand.

  After the shower, we dry off and she tries to slip back into my bed.

  “It’s only five o’clock,” I say. She can’t seriously think we’re going to bed now, and I need a little bit of time before I’m good for round three. Besides, I’m not even sure I want a round three.

  “We can just snuggle again until, you know.” Her eyes drop to my crotch.

  “I don’t snuggle,” I say and head over to my dresser and pull out a t-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers.

  “We can talk then,” she suggests.

  “I’ve got a lot I need to catch up on,” I say curtly. Hint. Hint.

  She looks at the alarm clock beside my bed. “It’s only five o’clock.”

  “Yeah.” I run my hands through my wet hair. “I’ve got work to catch up on and I have to hit the gym at six a.m. tomorrow.” She’s clearly heard about me on campus. What is with her needy routine? Girls know I’m not a hearts and flowers kind of guy.

  She pouts.

  Seriously?

  There is always a girl who thinks she’ll be the one to tame my wild ass, but I am untamable, a wolf just like my namesake.

  “You have a good night, Casey,” I say.

  She looks at me wide-eyed and peeved. I must have messed up her name.

  She huffs and throws the blankets off her.

  Sally. Her name is Sally. “Babe, I didn’t mean that. I know your name.” I turn my lips down and push out the bottom one for effect.

  She crosses her arms over her bare chest and those breasts come together and plump up. I have to pull my gaze off them and look back up at her eyes. “Sally. I know your name.”

  She huffs and begins to get dressed. I don’t know what all the dramatics are about. She came on to me. I didn’t make any promises. I slip on a clean pair of boxers and pull on a pair of jeans. Her eyes drop to my abs as she pulls up her jeans. She barely has the fly up when she’s pulling my bedroom door open. Round brown eyes glare at me like they’re shooting daggers, her hair is a sexy mess. “You have yourself a good night, Wolfe,” she says. Then, ever so quietly before she leaves through my door, she mutters, “Jerk.”

  She slams the door behind her.

  I flinch. Jerk isn’t so bad. I’ve been called worse.

  I get dressed quickly and grab my school bag and laptop and head out of the house. There’s no way I’ll get any work done around here tonight.

  “Where the hell you going?” One of my best friends calls me out.

  “To study,” I say.

  Sally walks by me and huffs.

  “Oh shit. You pissed someone off,” Dec says.

  I shrug it off.

  “I’m out of here. I need to catch up on my work,” I say.

  I grab my car keys and head out in my Mustang. I need a high GPA to get into a good law school just so I can rub it in my father’s face that I made it on my own. Even though I wonder if being a lawyer is really what I want or just a price I have to pay to prove my dad wrong.

  Three

  Rebel

  “I’m heading to the Coffee Bean,” I call out to the empty hallway before I leave my house and lock the door. Blossom’s new friend is over and they were getting quite rowdy in the bedroom. I figured they could use the privacy while I head over to campus to get some work done.

  I don’t expect a response back and I don’t get one. I walk down the street past Mr. Hucksberry’s house.

  “Hi there, Blossom,” he says.

  “It’s me, Rebel, Mr. Hucksberry,” I say back.

  He’s sitting on the rocking chair on his porch, rocking back and forth. Even with his glasses on he has a hard time seeing at a distance.

  “Sorry, Rebel. How are you doing?” he asks.

  “Good. Just heading over to the campus,” I say.

  “Saw that Blossom has that boy over again.” He shakes his head back and forth. “That boy has always been up to no good.” The side of his nose scrunches and he looks like he has a bad taste in his mouth.

  “That boy is now thirty years old and Blossom is twenty-eight. They’re adults. I’m sure they can figure things out,” I say.

  “That’s where you have it wrong, missy. Adults don’t have a clue about life. They make mistakes all the time. Some learn from them and some keep repeating them,” he says. “Blossom’s a good girl the way she stepped up to care for you, but she’s barking up the wrong tree just like that mama of yours.”

  As much as his words sting, they’re true. Mama fell in love with Papa despite all the warnings my grandparents and the town gave her. She had hearts in her eyes and there was no changing her mind. From what I remember, Blossom even looks like Mama, even though I hope that Preston guy is nothing like Papa.

  “I can’t argue that, Mr. Hucksberry. I can only pray she has a better head on her shoulders,” I say. “You have yourself a good evening. I better get going. I’ve got a lot of work to get through.”

  “You’re a good girl, Rebel. Keep your head buried in those books. That’s where your future is at.”

  I nod. “Will do.” I continue down the street, limping on my bad leg.

  Blossom took me in after Papa died. She could have sold the house and left Westfall, but she stayed so that I’d have a home. She isn’t like Mama, because Mama left us when I was ten and Blossom was seventeen.

  The sun is setting as the cold November air chills my bones. I make my way slowly down the side streets. We don’t live far from campus. My grandparents bought my parents the house we live in now. It was a steal because no one wants to live too close to a college campus. The off-campus housing is only a couple streets away and it tends to be loud and rowdy.

  In under ten minutes, I find myself back on campus. I would head to the library, but I need a bite to eat, so I stop into the Coffee Bean thinking a large coffee and a bagel will do the trick to give me the energy I need to stay up late tonight to study.

  As I walk into the shop, I see an acquaintance from class, Antonio. “Hey! What can I get you?” Antonio flashes a nice set of white teeth and a brilliant smile.

  “I’ll tak
e a plain bagel toasted with peanut butter and jam and a large plain coffee, please,” I say. My low-budget dinner at its best. Blossom waitresses at a diner on the edge of town, but it isn’t busy and affords us just enough to cover the bills since she won’t touch the insurance money I got from the accident. My work at the bar helps cover my school costs, and we have little left over if we’re lucky. She insists I should use the insurance money for myself. I have used some of it to top off my tuition fees, but I hate to use it. It reminds me of the past, and I don’t like thinking of my childhood or the messed-up events that led to the accident. My memories are best left buried in our backyard with that little time capsule I buried when I was ten.

  “You finish that ethics paper?” Antonio asks as he passes me my coffee.

  “Thanks,” I take the paper cup. “No, I’m hoping to get some of it done now along with studying for the anatomy and biomechanics mid-terms.”

  “Man, the load is heavier this year,” he says.

  “Yeah, I feel the same,” I say. “I’ve got a job too, and I find I’m really struggling to stay on top of things.”

  “Your bagel should be up in just a minute.” He grins. “Maybe we can study together. My shift is over in like an hour.”

  My heart skips a beat and my blood pressure rises. I don’t really study with anyone from class. Other than exchanging simple pleasantries, I don’t have any friends other than Holland. I really don’t want to study with Antonio. It’s not that I'm attracted to him, because I’m not. I just like to avoid questions about my leg like the plague.

  “Oh, um…,” I stutter.

  “Never mind.” He waves me off. “You probably like to study on your own. Forget I suggested it,” he says, clearly reading my anxiety right.

  “No, it’s not that. I need to go over it a few times to make sure I understand it better,” I say. It’s a lame excuse and I want to crawl out of my skin.