Victor: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

by Brenda Rothert

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  I know what he means—wake me up if you’re sad and don’t want to be alone. I did it after Mom died, after our dog Racer died and after Jimmy Morgan told me I looked like an ugly boy after I got a bad haircut. I had a crush on him, and I was devastated.

  I sit in the recliner a little longer, but soon I head upstairs to my bedroom. I have to work a rare day shift tomorrow, doing inventory and training a couple new employees. I’m kind of glad, because I need something to focus on other than Lily West’s death.

  I’m almost asleep when my phone buzzes with an incoming text on my nightstand. I pick it up, squinting to read the words on the brightly lit screen.

  Victor: Hey, I’m off tomorrow. Want to hang out tomorrow night?

  My heart leaps and suddenly, I’m wide awake. I text back as fast as my fingers can type.

  Me: Sure, I have to work during the day but I’m free after that.

  Victor: Great, I’ll text you tomorrow. Have a good night.

  Me: You too.

  I lay back down in bed, wondering what the rest of his night will involve. I can’t help but hope he’s not one of those men who combat heavy emotional situations with sex.

  I sigh, rolling over onto my side, and try to focus on the fact I’m hanging out with Victor again tomorrow. Ari wont have time to help me get ready. This time will be just like the first night I met Victor—what he sees is what he gets. Belinda Noelle Boring, just as I am.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Victor

  Anton’s been staring out the window for most of our flight home. He’s even quieter than usual, and though I understand why, I nudge him anyway.

  “You okay?”

  He turns to me and nods. “Just thinking.”

  “Does Jonah have people there with him?”

  “Yeah. He said he’s surrounded by his family and Lily’s. He actually wants to be alone, but doesn’t know how to tell them.”

  “I get that. Do you think we should go over to his house? Do we need to bring…I don’t know, a casserole or something?”

  He hikes up a brow. “Like you know how to make a fuckin’ casserole.”

  “I can buy one, asshole.”

  “I’m sure Jonah’s got plenty of that stuff.”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “It’s not really about the casserole, though. It’s about letting him know we’re here for him.”

  “Okay, Dr. Phil.”

  “Go back to staring out the window, you prick.”

  His smile reaches his eyes for the first time since we found out about Lily.

  “Mia’s taking care of sending flowers from the team and our memorial contribution to the hospital in Lily’s name.”

  “Good. Let me know how much money you need. Is the foundation doing something, too? Lily was a big part of the foundation.”

  “Shit. I didn’t even think of that. I’ll talk to Mia. This whole thing is just…Lily is the one who handled all of this. Every time.”

  It’s a brutal truth that silences us both for a moment. None of us ever imagined we’d lose the vibrant twenty-eight-year-old woman who was the unofficial mom of our team family.

  Lily hosted every bridal and baby shower, sent flowers when needed, wrote welcome cards to new team members and their families. She was genuine and sweet—a lot like Lindy.

  “I’ve been thinking about me and Mia,” Anton says, sighing.

  “Thinking what?”

  “I’ve wanted to propose to her for a while now, but I haven’t because I feel like she needs more time to heal after her divorce from Adam. I don’t want to overwhelm her, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But then Lily dies and…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to say fuck it, life can be short, and just go buy a ring.”

  “Why not? You guys could just have a long engagement.”

  Anton shifts in his seat, his nostrils flaring, which they only do when he’s agitated or stressed.

  “Yeah, but I don’t want a long engagement. I don’t want to lose Mia before we’ve even gotten married. I guess I’m a selfish asshole, but I want that. I want her to be mine, legally, as soon as possible.”

  I scrunch my brows together, trying to think of the right way to say what I’m thinking. “As long as worrying about her untimely death isn’t your primary motivation, I say it can’t hurt to ask.”

  Luca talked to Jonah this morning and found out that Lily died from an undiagnosed heart condition. It was sobering, to be reminded that any loved one could be here one moment and gone the next.

  “That’s not my motivation. I just want her to be my wife for about the next hundred and fifty years.”

  I grin. “So buy a ring. When you pick it out and leave the store with it, you’ll know when it’s time to propose.”

  “That’s a good idea,” he says, accepting my advice.

  I shrug. “I’m fuckin’ smart, dude.”

  “Will you come with me to pick one out?”

  “Hell yeah, I will. Then we’ll so to a strip club to celebrate.”

  He gives me a skeptical look.

  “That was a joke,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Hey, fucker,” Luca says, looking over the two seats in front of us, only visible from his eyes up. “I’ll come, too, thanks for inviting me to be part of the biggest thing you’ve done in your life.”

  Anton rolls his eyes. “I was gonna ask you to come, too, okay? We just decided to do this five seconds ago.”

  “I have great taste,” Luca says. “Abby loves her ring.”

  “I said you’re in, okay?” Anton looks between us. “Can you guys go when we get home this afternoon?”

  “Emerson’s got a piano recital,” Luca says. “You know I have to schedule shit.”

  “Fine, but I want to go soon.”

  Luca turns back around when the flight attendant brings him a snack and a drink.

  “You busy tonight?” Anton asks me. “Wanna come to the movies with me and Mia?”

  “I’m hanging out with Lindy tonight.”

  “Hanging out?” He gives me a skeptical look.

  “Yep.”

  “That’s code for casual sex. You better not be having casual sex with her, man.”

  “Why not?”

  His jaw tenses and his eyes widen. Anton’s giving me his pissed off face. “Did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “You know what, asshole. Did you sleep with her?”

  “No. Fuck, what are you, the sex police?”

  “Don’t go there, Vic. She’s a really nice girl. And she’s got a major thing for you. Don’t use her and break her heart. She’s not someone you do that to.”

  I shift sideways in my seat, taken aback. “You don’t know shit. I’ve never touched her.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.”

  “What, because I hurt every woman I encounter?”

  “Can you see yourself marrying her? Being with no one but her for the rest of your life?”

  I open my mouth to speak, but close it again, at a loss for words. “No, but—”

  “Then keep your hands off her. I can tell from only spending a couple hours with her at dinner the other night that Lindy’s not a casual sex girl. You want casual sex, find someone else.”

  Luca turns around again and chimes in, once again only poking his eyes over his seat. “I completely agree with him.”

  “Fuck off,” I say, agitated. “Shouldn’t you be asleep right now?”

  I turn back to glare at Anton. “Look, I have no intention of using Lindy for casual sex, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “I’m calling it like it is, man. You don’t usually go for women like her.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Because she works in Concessions? I don’t give a shit about that.”

  “No, because she’s nice. And she likes you. You prefer women like Kristen Moore, who you have to chase and try to impress. Women who ma
ke you feel like you’re barely holding onto them.”

  I clench my teeth and don’t respond. Instinct is telling me to argue with him, to tell him I like women who are sweet, smart and happy. But…he’s right.

  Fuck, he’s right. Not just about Kristen, but all the women I’ve had relationships with. I’ve got a thing for chasing women who seem unattainable. Models, actresses…I dated an actual Swiss heiress once.

  Why do I do that?

  “Promise me your pants will stay zipped around her,” Anton says.

  “Yeah,” I say softly. “Whatever, yeah.”

  The flight attendant comes to see if we want anything, and I order a Jack and Coke. I’m still abstaining from drinking, other than this one time. Right now, I need something to calm my nerves.

  I put on my headphones and zone out for the rest of the flight. I wasn’t expecting to find out today that I’m even more fucked up than I realized, but there you have it…I am.

  By the time Lindy knocks on my apartment door later that evening, I’ve got my shit together. At least, I think I do. But when I open the door and see her smiling at me, I feel a hint of something.

  She’s got her hair in a high ponytail, rather than pulled back at the nape of her neck like usual. She has a light dusting of makeup on and she’s wearing jeans that hug her in all the right places.

  Fuck, I need to get laid. This is a nice girl that I refuse to hurt. I can’t get hard for her.

  “Hey, come on in,” I say, opening the door wide and stepping aside.

  “Thanks.” She holds up a bottle of wine. “I brought this, though I’m not sure if you’ll like it or not.”

  She brought alcohol. Damn. I’ve sent the wrong signals. My guilt is immediate and overpowering.

  “That’s nice, but you didn’t need to bring anything,” I say, taking the bottle and setting it on my coffee table.

  “I wanted to, since you said you’re ordering in dinner.”

  “I can take your coat,” I offer.

  She takes off her worn, lightweight black coat and passes it to me. “Thanks.”

  I go hang it up in the hall closet, and when I return to the living room, Lindy’s looking out the windows at my city view. It’s not the best view money can buy or anything, but it’s not bad.

  “This is so nice,” she says.

  “Thanks.”

  I fold my hands in front of me and then unfold them, shuffling on my feet. Damn, am I uncomfortable right now, and it’s the first time I’ve ever felt that way around Lindy.

  “Hey, can we…talk about something?” I give her a sheepish grin.

  “Of course.” She turns to face me. “Is Jonah doing okay?”

  I nod. “As well as can be expected, I think. When I find out about the services they’re holding, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to go.”

  I hold my hand out, gesturing to one of the leather chairs at the end of the couch. She sits down in one chair and I sit in the other and turn to face her.

  We look at each other in awkward silence as I try to figure out how to say what I need to say, but fuck, there’s no easy way.

  “So…I like you, Lindy. You’re just great in every way, and I like spending time with you.”

  Her cheeks turn pink as she says, “Okay,” in a tone that clearly indicates she has no idea where I’m going with this.

  Fuck it. I’ve got to rip the Band-Aid off and do this.

  “I didn’t ask you to come over here because I’m trying to get you into bed,” I say.

  Poor Lindy’s face flushes bright red. “No, I didn’t think—”

  “I know. I’m not saying this because of anything you did or didn’t do. I just want to make sure you know I want us to be friends and I’m not trying to get into your pants or anything. I really like you, and I’d like us to spend more time together. As friends.”

  “Yeah…yeah, me too.” Lindy clears her throat, somehow flushing an even darker shade now.

  I feel like an epic asshole. I embarrassed her. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Hanging out can be code for hooking up, and I just…I want you to know, I like you and respect you too much for that.”

  She closes her eyes for a second, then says, “Should I go?”

  “No!” I put my hand out, unconsciously trying to stop her. “Please don’t go. There’s Chinese on the way, and I thought we’d watch a movie. Look…” I put my hands on my knees, trying to figure out how to get back to our usual dynamic. “I’m not a bullshitter. I say what I mean. I really like spending time with you. You’re funny and easygoing and genuine. This is not some effort to blow you off, okay?”

  She takes a deep breath and smiles, the redness in her cheeks fading a bit. “Okay.”

  “Good.” I stand and offer her a hand, but she gets up on her own. “So whenever Lily’s services are, do you want to come with me?”

  “Sure, that would be nice.”

  “Any movies sound good to watch? What do you like?”

  “Slasher movies and comedies?”

  I quirk a brow at her, surprised. “Seriously?”

  “Yep. The cheesier the slasher movie, the better.”

  “Okay. So we’ll…eat some chow mein and watch people get murdered.”

  Lindy grins happily. “You ordered chow mein? That’s my favorite!”

  “Chow mein, lo mein, egg rolls and a wide selection of craft beers, if you want any. I’m probably just gonna have water, but I keep a supply of beer here for friends.”

  “You don’t drink?”

  “Not since I stopped playing like shit. I figure not drinking can only help.”

  “Speaking of playing,” she gives me a concerned look, “how’s your shoulder? It looked like it hurt when you hit the boards last night.”

  Instinctively, I reach up and rub my left shoulder. “Yeah, it’s sore. I iced it after the game. It’ll be okay.”

  The doorbell rings and I tell Lindy to pull up the Netflix menu while I pay for our food.

  The awkwardness is gone as we pass the takeout containers back and forth and watch a B-rate horror film about stupid teenagers getting picked off one by one.

  It’s good, though. Relaxing. It makes me realize I’ve never had much of a friendship with any of the women I’ve been with. It was always extravagant dates and hot sex.

  But this thing I have with Lindy? It’s easy, and it feels great. It’s something I don’t want to lose.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lindy

  “What can I get you?”

  The man on the other side of the counter answers. “Four beers.”

  “May I see your ID?”

  He glares at me. “Really? I’m thirty-six, honey.”

  “I’m required to check ID. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Swearing under his breath, he gets out his wallet and shows me his driver’s license. He does not weigh 190, but whatever.

  I pour the beers and set them in a carboard carrier on the counter. “Forty-four dollars, please.”

  “Forty-four bucks?” His eyes bulge. “For four beers? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  I shake my head, even though obviously, I’m not kidding.

  “This is fuckin’ ridiculous! This place used to be nice, but it’s a rundown shithole now. And you gouge people for everything. What, like the tickets weren’t enough? I paid eighty bucks for those. Now you need…” He pauses as he does the math. “Twelve bucks for a beer?”

  “It’s eleven, moron,” the guy behind him says with a growl. “Now pay or piss off. I’m missing the concert to listen to you bitch.”

  The moron sizes up the guy behind him, decides against arguing and tosses three crinkled twenties on the counter.

  I hate working during concerts. Blaze fans come here all the time, and they know how much concession food and drinks cost. Concertgoers are overall more impatient and belligerent.

  “Break time,” my coworker Dwayne says to me, sliding i
nto my place behind the register.

  Finally. It’s been a crazy busy night. I walk back to the employee break room and get a paper cup of water, then sit down across from Ari at a table.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Not bad, how bout you?”

  She glares. “Bitch, you know I’m living vicariously through you since I can’t get a date with both a pulse and a checking account. How was Victor’s last night?”

  Eyes bulging, I shush her and look around the room. “Don’t say his name.”

  She looks around quickly, too, and whispers, “What, you don’t want anyone to know you guys are seeing each other?”

  “Ari,” I say sternly. “We are not seeing each other, and I don’t want people talking about me, no.”

  “Sure you’re not. He just invited you to his place for an evening of talking about the economy, then?”

  I sigh heavily. “Look, don’t. Please. He specifically said he just wants to be friends. It was awkward for both of us. Please, just drop all the talk about it being more.”

  My friend’s playful expression falls away. “I’m sorry, Lindy.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine. That had to hurt.”

  “I’d rather be his friend than nothing.”

  Ari’s fuming. “What a dick. You’re worth a hundred of those bimbo actresses he usually dates.”

  “We had a great time. We watched a movie and played Jenga. Ate a ton of Chinese food.”

  “Jenga?” Ari smiles. “Only you, Lindy.”

  “What? Jenga’s fun.”

  “I guess as long as he’s being nice to you and you’re okay with it, then it’s okay with me. You can keep hanging out with the team and get with one of the other guys.”

  I laugh at that. “I’m not wanting to get with anyone.”

  “That’s because you never have. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “From what you’ve told me, I’m okay missing it.”

  “Girl, no. Most men are assholes, but when you find one who isn’t…it’s magic.”

  “I’m happy with my life as it is.”

  “You don’t ever want a guy to hold your hand? Or kiss you? Or text just to say he can’t stop thinking about you?”