by Sara Hubbard
She’s not hurt and when I ask her if she is, she bursts out laughing.
“I never could skate very well, could I?”
“I want to argue with you, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen four year olds put you to shame.”
She slaps at my shoulder.
“You could lie to me,” she says.
“Nah, pretty sure that’s the last thing I could do to you.”
She walks on the ice over to the boards and while she catches her breath and tries to reclaim her pride I take a moment to skate for myself. It’s been a long time since I've just skated for fun, no game, no training, just me on the ice, loving the speed and the wind in my hair. I do a few laps, faster and faster with each one. She claps as I pass her, calling me a show-off. So, of course, I have to do the showiest thing I can and race toward her, stopping short of her skates to decorate her clothes with a heavy spray of ice.
She frowns at me and I chuckle. I take a step forward to dust off the spray, but she bats me away—playfully—and cleans herself off.
“You've gotten faster,” she says. “Really fast.”
“I train every day. Or pretty much every day. Sometimes I practice after practice.”
“That’s one of the things I always liked about you, Ethan. If you want something, you give it all you got. And I know how much you love the game.”
“It’s not as much fun now though. I mean the games are fun, I guess, but everything else really is work. The fun is gone.”
“That makes me sad for you.”
I chuckle. “Don’t feel bad for me. I make a great living playing hockey. I don't deserve pity.”
“I don't pity you. I just want you to be happy. Always.”
Now I can't help myself. I skate closer and pull her in for a hug. This time she rests her head on my chest and when she tilts her head up to look up at me, I feel as if she's asking me to claim her. I reach down, stroke her silky smooth skin, and lower my head, my lips gently pressing against hers. A fire in me stirs. I want her so bad my body is practically begging me to start undressing her.
She inches her face back. “This is a bad idea,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other.”
“I’d rather hurt with you than without you. You ran from me once and I let you because I thought maybe you didn't feel the same about me as I felt about you, but I know now that's not true. I can feel it in your body, the way you respond when I touch you. You're just as wrecked as I am. You’re mine and that's not changing any time soon. Not ever.”
She puts her hands on either side of my head and presses a sweet kiss to my lips. Her lips are smooth and soft and I brush against them, stealing a couple more until she pulls back, but it’s not enough. I grip the back of her head and pull her back, diving in, crushing her mouth to mine. Our tongues connect, dancing in a sweet rhythm, until a soft moan escapes her mouth. I could take her here. Now. Stop all my frustrations. I may have been with a few women since she broke up with me, but there weren't many. Being with other women just left me feeling even emptier. My right hand has been my best friend most nights and I badly want to dip into her right now. But I try to follow her lead. She wants slow; I'll give it to her. She wants fast; I can have my dick out and hard with a snap of her fingers. I’m hers to command. And only hers.
“What now?” I say, breathless.
She giggles, tipping her head down. “I don’t know; what did you have in mind?”
“I'm not sure you’d be ready for that,” I say.
“Ethan,” she says, her voice playful.
I let out a strangled breath through pursed lips. “Okay.”
“I have to get back to Nan's soon. I'm working tonight, so I need to get some sleep.”
“There’s lots of time for sleep.” Right now, I’m not willing to let her go. It worries me that when I see her again, her mind will be changed. I want today to be wonderful. I want her to remember why she loves me and why she'll do anything to make us work, so I convince her to stay for just a little bit longer.
We skate some more, her hand in mine. She’s like a child, the way she moves on the ice. Big smile, rosy cheeks, head up and proud when she does a length on the ice and doesn't fall on her ass. When we finish it's almost three and I know it's getting close to her shift.
“Want to head to The Stone Cafe? Get some hot chocolate?” I ask, hopeful.
But she’s not having it.
“I really have to get back.”
“Right.” I fiddle with the keys, dreading turning the engine and taking her home.
“Ethan, what’s that look for?”
“I know you, Annie. Stop thinking so hard and let this happen.”
She sighs heavily. “If only I could, Ethan.”
13
ANNIE
Manny holds onto his IV pole with one hand and a cigarette with the other as he stands on the sidewalk outside of the hospital.
“What the hell?” I say to myself as I pull into the parkade. Once I squeeze my car into a too-small parking spot, I storm outside and shout at him when he’s within hearing distance.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” I shout as I approach him.
He flicks the cigarette onto the grass and turns to me as a cloud of smoke escapes his smiling lips. He’s in his gown with a plaid fleece jacket over top and some unlaced work boots. He must be freezing.
I fold my arms across my chest to block out the chill and to work through my frustration. “You’re going to freeze out here like this. And smoking? Seriously? You can’t wait until they release you?
“Don’t lecture me, Annie. I was jonesing so hard. Seriously, I couldn’t stop shaking and now I feel relaxed and my pain is better.”
I sniff the air. Fucking pot. I shake my head at him. “Come on.” I take hold of the pole and we walk side by side to the front doors, the pot smell growing stronger when we’re boxed into the elevator.
“How was your date?” Manny asked, giving me a sly sideways glance. He nudges me with his elbow and waggles his eyebrows.
I frown at him. “Fine. And it wasn’t a date.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No, Manny,” I say with a sigh. “It wasn’t.”
“And it was just fine?”
“It was better than fine, okay.”
“Hmm. Dr. Dreamy was cranky with me this morning. He must not like sharing you.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He laughs out loud. “I don’t even try. It just comes natural to me.”
“I have no doubt.”
The elevator doors ding and open, a handful of people come onboard, and an old woman with hair dyed a subtle shade of pink gets on and soon turns to glance at Manny, crinkling her nose.
He licks his lips and winks at her, all obvious-like. She turns back around and though I roll my eyes at him, I can’t help but chuckle. One of these days some girl is going to come along and the tables will be turned. Instead of breaking hearts, his will do the breaking and it might be good for him. Might make him smarten up a bit. But I do love him like this. I’m just glad I’ve never dated him. In some ways, he and his brother are miles apart.
We stroll by the nurse’s station and Claire glances up at him and waves.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says, playful.
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” I say.
“Are you looking for suggestions?”
Resisting the urge to smack him, I manage to get him back in bed, taking off his boots so he doesn’t have to bend over and do it himself. His eyes are bloodshot now and the grin on his face is constant. God help me. He’s totally stoned.
“You going to give Ethan another go?” he asks.
“I don’t want to talk about that with you.”
“You two are the same. I love you, I hate you. I don’t want to talk about it. Just fuck and get it over with. You know you want to.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Yeah, explain i
t to me again then. Why aren’t you together?”
I sigh.
“Really, I’m curious. You love him, right?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I have to start work in three minutes.”
“Just answer my question.”
I give him a little nod.
“Okay. And he fucking adores you, so what’s the problem?”
“He lives in Philly. He travels. I live here and I love my job, so that’s the problem.”
“Just so you know, he’ll quit hockey for you. He’d give it all up if you ask him.”
I stand still. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. “Hockey’s his dream. I would never ask him to do that.”
“You might not have to. A dream ain’t so wonderful if you don’t have someone to share it with.”
“And what’s your dream, Manny?” I say to change the topic.
“Hmm. Now there’s a question I haven’t been asked in a long time.” He shifts in bed, wincing as he settles under the covers. I tuck him in, pulling the covers in tight around his neck.
“I don’t know if I have one. Ethan always had hockey. I think he came out of the womb with skates on. But me? I don’t know.”
“You used to play in a band. What about that?”
“Music?” He waves a lazy hand through the air. “One in a million chance of making a living at that.”
“Well, your brother is proof that that a one in a million shot is possible. You like music, play music. Simple as that.”
His grin fades and he thinks about that for a moment.
“Did you know about the building he’s renovating down the hill from the lookout?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. What building?”
“It doesn’t matter. Ask him about it. Maybe you could help. I think it would mean a lot to him.”
He shrugs. “Where is he, anyway?”
“I don’t know. He’ll be here soon.” I sit on the edge of his bed. “Can you do me a favor?”
“You now I’d do anything for you.”
“Tell him he’s foolish for even considering giving up hockey for me.”
“It is foolish. It’s fucking stupid,” Manny says.
“Well, make sure he knows you think so.”
“Don’t you worry about that. I would kick his ass.”
“He’d only resent me and we might not work out. Then he’d have nothing.”
He sits up and points to his face. “Look me in the eye and tell me you and Ethan wouldn’t be forever. Go ahead. I dare you.”
I huff at him, shaking my head. Seven oh five and I’m totally late. “I have to go.”
“Think about it,” he says as I push through his cracked-open door.
Think about it? I won’t be able to think about anything but that. He just told me Ethan would give up hockey for me. Does that mean he’s going to? Would he really do that? I know the answer as soon as I ask myself the question. He would. I can’t let that happen. No now. Not ever.
14
ETHAN
After a cold shower, I consider shaving, but think better of it. Screw it. A little scruff never hurt anyone. I throw on what's left of my clean clothes and shove my wallet in the back of my jeans. I'll go grab some supper for Manny and me and we can watch a game on the television tonight. My team lost the game we played last night, which sucks. Makes me feel guilty I'm not there to pull my weight. I know the boys will understand when they find out I'm here for my brother, but that doesn't mean they won't silently wonder if I could have helped win the game. Part of the problem, from what it said online, was that our star player, Doug Bent, got smashed into the boards and had to sit out the third period. If I'd been there, I could have taken out the guy who got to him, might have been able to protect him. Fuck. I run my hands through my hair. There really isn't anything I can do about it now. But I'm sure coach will yell at me for it when I get back after his compulsory 'hope your brother is okay' speech.
I head for the door of the hotel and swing it open wide, taken aback when I look down to see my little agent staring up at me. He’s barely three apples tall. Hell, he might even be shorter than Annie—now that's saying something.
I scowl at him, knowing he's not here to check on me. He's here to make sure I get on a plane in a couple days. Thing is, he can’t know how much my irritation with him has grown since we last spoke. He hid information from me about my brother, and he never passed on that Annie called, either.
“Ethan! I'm so glad to see you. Everything okay? What do you need? I'm here to help. Whatever you need. I'll take care of it. You just need to ask.”
I hold my hand up. “Please, stop talking. You’re here five minutes and already my head hurts.” He talks so fast, I sometimes need an interpreter. “What are you doing here?”
“Just what I said. I'm here to help.”
“No, you're not.”
“That hurts, Ethan. Stings, actually.”
“Just be real with me, man. I can't take the bullshit.”
He frowns, turns sideways, and slides in between the door and me. He heads for my minibar and opens it up to pull out a small bottle of vodka.
“Long flight?”
He takes a swig. “At one point I thought we were going down. And I was in coach! I haven't flown coach since I was nineteen.”
I say nothing. Silence is usually more effective in getting him to skip to his point.
“Do you know how hard it was to find this place?”
I think about that for a moment. “How did you find me?”
“Credit card receipt.”
“What? What are you doing looking at my credit card receipts?”
“You have your passwords saved online.”
“My online banking? What the fuck? That's criminal, asshole.”
He shrugs. “So, charge me. I never touched your money. I'm your agent and I do what I need to do to look out for you. You should be glad I’m so interested in your business. I don't give any of my other clients the attention I give you.”
“I’m your only client, dick,” I say, shaking my head at him. He's so unapologetic and for some reason I have respect for that, even if he's fucking crazy. I let out a strangled groan. “I don't even have words for you right now.”
“The game last night—in a word—was a complete fuck up. They lost five-one. The owners were livid. The team’s won every game up to this point and then you're not there and they lose? Owners are superstitious. They think they need you back to win. I got to have you there for the next game. I promised I would.”
“My brother's still in the hospital. I'm not leaving until he's out.”
“Then I'll stay. I can do whatever he needs, get him whatever.”
Now I really let out a laugh. “There isn't a nurturing bone in your shrewd little body.”
“I'm offended by that. Really I am.”
“I'm staying.”
“Then how about this? We get him checked out early. We hire a nurse for the plane ride and to care for him while he recovers. We all hop a private plane today and we can be back in time for training before the next game.”
Did he say a nurse? I rub my chin, my daylong stubble scratches at my skin.
“What is that look? I don't like that look. What are you thinking?”
“I like that idea,” I say, more to myself, as a grin claims my mouth.
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” He holds out his hands, then points at me. “No. She made it clear. She wanted you out of her life. I couldn't do anything with you when you first broke up. Let sleeping dogs lie, my friend.”
“Why didn't you tell me she called?” I punch his shoulder, not really meaning to hurt him, but when his eyes widen I think I might have put a bit too much force behind it.
“Ow! Jesus. You might have dislocated my shoulder.” He whines and complains, sits on my unmade bed and breathes in and out slowly through pursed lips. Fucking baby.
“You were doing better. Your game was improving. You'd finally stopped las
hing out and drinking. I didn't want you to go back to the way you were when she ended it. Man...come on. You might think I betrayed you—and I get that—but for once, don't think the worst of me. I honestly thought it was better for you not to talk to her. I make up a lot of shit, but I’m not lying about that.”
I sigh and put my hands on my hips. For once, I believe him. I don't like it. I want to punch him again, but I believe him. I was fucked up. And I'll be fucked up again if she starts freaking out and pushes me away again. Which is another reason why I'm not leaving here without her, too. I’ll drag her to Philly with me kicking and screaming if I have to. She's mine. She knows it. I refuse to let her deny it anymore. I can't live without her. I won't. Because living without her isn't really living at all.
“All right, Richard.”
“All right? What? Really?”
“Yep. All right.”
“Are you fucking with me?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Not at all. But I'm getting Annie back, so don't fuck with that. I am as serious as a heart attack when I say this.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but then thinks better of it. Good thinking, buddy. I can actually see how much it pains him to keep his mouth shut. His face scrunches up and he turns an awful shade of blue-pink. I swear the guy is holding his breath.
“You really want to help me? Help me find a way to bring Annie with me. Like this nursing thing is good. But it's not permanent. What about a job with the team? With the doc?”
“They don't employ nurses. Physio, massage...doctors. That’s it.”
“Tell them I'll be back tomorrow if they find a position for a nurse. A traveling position.”
“Ethan, they can't just make up a job for your girlfriend.”
“Well, if they're as superstitious as you say there are, they'll do just that.”
I march to the door, a plan coming together in my mind. “That should keep you busy for a while,” I say under my breath. Hopefully I won’t see him again until he can tell me what I want to hear.
