Chapter 24
Slap Shot to The Heart
LILY
I’ve spent the majority of my time in Chicago with Randy, apart from the actual holiday and the hours during which he has practice or training sessions. We have such a great time together. And not just the sex, which is still so, so amazing. But this week we’ve spent as much time in a group as we did alone. He and Sunny get along great. Violet’s almost stopped thrusting when she says his name, and him and Alex and Darren and Miller are hilarious to be around. I’m still trying to figure out Lance.
It’s New Year’s Eve. Sunny and I are sitting in her living room, painting our toenails. Charlene and Violet are putting on blue eye shadow and acting like assholes.
“Alex says he can get you an interview for a coaching position, if you want it,” Sunny says.
I stop painting and sit back, wiggling my toes. I’ve been thinking about this all week. I want desperately to take her up on the offer; I’m worried it’s for the wrong reasons.
“Your mom’ll be fine without you. It’s only an hour-and-a-half flight. You can go back anytime you want.”
“I know.” Sunny’s right. This Tim-Tom guy actually seems decent, apart from the shirtlessness. He owns a small gym, he’s nice to her, and she’s happy—happier than she’s been in a long time. She met his family at Christmas. There’s talk about her moving in with him. I know she’ll say it’s okay for me to tag along, but it’s time to get out.
“Then what’s holding you back? Not the messages from Benji, I hope.”
“Your douchey ex?” Violet asks.
“Yeah, that’s the ex, and no, he’s definitely not a factor in the decision.” Benji has sent several texts and left a couple of voice mails over the past week. I sent one text back, because I’m not a total cold-hearted bitch, but I don’t miss being with him. I still have to give him his things back, though at this point I’m not sure I care about mine. It’d be easy enough to drop his junk off at his house and be done with it. I’ve already got closure.
“Okay. Good. Just checking.” Sunny draws a tiny little champagne flute on her big toe in silver. She’s incredible at painting pictures on nails.
“Can you fix mine when you’re done?” Violet lifts a foot. There’s nail polish everywhere but on her toenails, it seems.
“Of course. Do you want it to match the crazy you’re putting on your face?” Sunny asks.
“Yes! I can’t wait to send Alex pictures of what he’s missing tonight.” Violet grins, and she has red lipstick on her teeth. She’s wild at the best of times, but tonight she’s more so than usual, with Alex and the boys being at an away game. We all would have gone, but they’re flying back tomorrow, so we decided to delay the official celebration. Sunny and Alex’s parents also came in for the holiday, and there’s been more wedding talk. Tonight Violet and Charlene decided to re-create the pre-wedding makeup test run Daisy suggested. There are bottles of Aquanet on the table. Sunny says Violet’s not allowed to use them because they’re aerosol and bad for the environment.
“So is it because of Randy, then?” Charlene asks.
All three girls stare, waiting.
“No.”
“Liar!” Violet points at me.
“Randy isn’t the reason I’m not sure.”
“He might not be the reason, but I bet he’s a reason,” Violet replies. “Your last name is LeBlanc, right?”
“Yeah.” I’m not sure what that has to do with Randy, but then Violet doesn’t often stick with one train of thought.
“Is that your mom’s or your dad’s last name?” she asks.
“My mom’s. I’ve never even met my dad. There’s no way I’d take his last name.” I don’t mean to sound bitchy.
“You’ve never met your dad?” Violet asks. “Wow. That’s crazy. Me neither.”
“Really?” I ask.
“For reals.” Violet nods. “Apparently he’s a jerkwad. My mom says it was a whirlwind romance. I think it means she had a slutty phase and decided not to give me up for adoption.”
“Wow,” Sunny and I say in unison.
“It’s no biggie.” She shrugs. “My mom raised me on her own.”
“Just like Sidney raised Miller,” Sunny says. She gets this wistful look in her eyes. “It’s like fate brought your parents together.”
“Actually, I think he accidentally stole her coffee one day, and that’s how they met, but yeah, they love each other,” Violet agrees. “So what’s the story with your dad?”
“He was a pro hockey player, and my mom was a bunny who got pregnant.” I shrug. “He paid child support until he didn’t anymore.”
“Wow. How’s your mom feel about you boning an NHL’er?” Violet asks.
“She doesn’t get an opinion on that, considering,” I reply.
“Fair enough,” she says. The three of them go quiet for a few seconds. “Wait! So you’ve never met your dad, and isn’t Randy’s dad some ex-NHL’er who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants? Aren’t his parents divorced?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Holy shit!” She sets her glass down and grabs the edge of the coffee table. “What if you two are related? And not like me and Buck—all step-sibling and stuff. Like, it would be weird but okay if we hooked up, but you’d be for-real brother and sister. We could make a reality TV show out of this.”
“Randy’s dad isn’t my dad.”
“How do you know?”
“Because his name isn’t on my birth certificate.”
“What if it’s a fake?”
“Violet, you’re being an asshole,” Charlene says.
“My dad’s last name is Head,” I say.
“What’s his first name? Dick?” Violet asks.
“Actually he goes by Richard.”
“Are you serious? Your dad’s name is Dick Head?”
“If he went by Dick, yes.”
She’s silent for a few seconds, then she starts laughing hysterically. “Oh my God, that’s priceless.” When she calms down a bit, she holds up a finger. “So if you and Randy ever got married, your name would be Lily LeBlanc Balls. Lily White Balls!” She falls over laughing.
I want to find it funny, but I can’t. Instead I’m sad. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen.”
We get super hammered and ring in the New Year with champagne. I get two messages at midnight: one from Benji telling me he misses me and another from Randy saying he wishes he was inside me. I can’t pretend it doesn’t make my chest ache when I realize all over again that that’s where this whole thing starts and finishes.
***
Turns out Alex doesn’t give me a choice about whether or not I’m doing the job interview. He sets it up for me and tells me when I’m disgustingly hungover that I’ll need to be at the arena the following morning.
Randy and I spend the majority of New Year’s Day in his bed. I’m not in very good shape, so we don’t have much in the way of sex. Instead, I drink ginger ale, and we cuddle. Things feel off. Or maybe I’m off because I’m hungover.
The next morning while I’m getting ready for my interview, I spot Randy’s defaced pink boxers on the bedroom floor. I snatch them up and shove them in my bag while he’s in the bathroom. I don’t know why, or maybe I do. This week has been amazing, but this thing with Randy is getting too big. I want more than he says he has to give.
Alex picks me up to take me to the interview, and Randy tongue-fucks the hell out of my mouth before he lets me get into the car. I have to go home tomorrow—possibly to pack up my things—so he’s taking me out for dinner tonight. Which, to me, sounds and feels like a real date. I didn’t mention that to him.
“I know it’s none of my business—” Alex says as we pull away.
“It’s just casual.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“I’m sure. I wouldn’t move to another country for a guy, Alex. I was with Benji for seven years. I’m having some fun, and Randy’s a fun guy.” The words sound
flat.
“And he feels the same way.”
“Yeah. He feels the same way.” I poke the fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror.
“You’re sure about that, too?”
I think about the message from New Years. And about how deep I’ve gotten myself in. I’m going to get my heart ripped out. “Yeah. I’m totally positive. Can we talk about something else? Like this interview? I feel unprepared.”
Alex drops the subject and tells me what to expect at the arena. It’s been a long time since I’ve done an interview. I’m legitimately nervous, but I must do okay, because they offer me the job on the spot. Randy’s plan to keep me to himself is overruled as a result, and we end up going out for dinner to celebrate with the whole group. It’s almost a good thing, because now that I know I’m moving to Chicago, I have to do something I’ve been holding off on.
After we eat, Sunny and Miller go back to his place, which gives me and Randy the entire night to ourselves at Sunny’s. It will be my place, too, in three weeks. That’s how long I have before I start my new job, in my new city.
Except I don’t want to move here and keep doing what I’m doing with Randy. I’m not good at casual. I know that now. I keep seeing how in love Violet, Sunny, and Charlene are. I can invite him in tonight, but it’s not going to help anything. I’m still going to feel the way I do, and I’m still going to be just the girl he fucks. Like a champ. It’s the perfect scenario for someone who isn’t me. I should have told him this wasn’t working for me ages ago, but the sex part was working so well I didn’t want to. I think I’m going to throw up.
Randy parks in front of the house and cuts the engine. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he starts to open his door and then realizes I’m not moving. He cocks his head. “What’s up? Why you still sittin’ there? I bet I can have you naked in, like, under a minute once we’re inside. Unless you’re feeling like street sex is more your speed tonight.”
I half-laugh, but the twist in my stomach makes it sound fake.
His grin drops.
I look down at my lap, exhaling a deep breath. I should have stopped this as soon as the fun started to turn into feelings. But I didn’t, and now I’m sitting here, choking on my words because I don’t want to say them. I have to.
“You okay?” He reaches out, brushing my hair from my face.
I want to lean into that touch. I want to wrap myself around him and never let go. But if I keep doing this with him, he’s going to break my heart. Well, that’s already happening, but at least I have some control over this decision.
I beat down the desire to jump him, which I know now isn’t just because he’s super amazing at sex. We have a connection when we’re naked, and when we’re not. It’s more than orgasms; I’m falling in love with him.
And not just the unclothed parts of him; it’s his sense of humor, his sweetness, his generosity. It’s everything. But it’s only a matter of time before he does to me what he’s done to every other girl before. He’ll get freaked out and cut ties. I know it’s coming. We’re getting too close. It’s becoming too real. He has to feel it, too.
This road ends like one of those old Bugs Bunny cartoons: there’s a sheer cliff I’ll drop off of eventually. Only I won’t pop back up and brush away the dirt as if nothing happened. If I do this now, the fall won’t be as far.
As least that’s what I tell myself when I say, “I don’t think you should come inside.”
He spins his keys on the chain. “You wanna come back to my place instead?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, either.”
Randy frowns. “Why not?”
My throat feels tight, and my stomach starts to roll. The amazing dinner I ate feels like it wants to make another appearance. “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “What?”
“This.” I motion between us. “I don’t think it’s working.”
His shoulders tighten, and a half-smile appears. “You’re not enjoying the multiple orgasms anymore? I thought we were having fun.”
He’s hitting me with sarcasm, and for once I don’t dish it back. “We were.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I’ve caught him off guard. I’ve caught myself off guard, too. Only after I got the job did I truly realize I’ve been fooling myself. All I could think was how living in Chicago would mean more time with Randy. But not just in his bed—with friends, on dates, hanging out. All things that aren’t on the table. Or they aren’t supposed to be. I fiddle with my purse and give him back his words from the start of this thing we’ve been doing. “This isn’t just fun for me anymore, Randy.”
“I don’t get it.” He smoothes his hands down his thighs. “I thought you had a good time this week.”
“I did. I—” I take a deep breath. I don’t want to cry in front of him. I don’t want to be weak. He told me what this was. It’s not his fault I wasn’t honest with him before now. “That’s what this was supposed to be, right? Just fun. It feels like it’s getting too… serious. And I can’t—”
“Too serious?”
I wring my hands, unsure what to do with them. “I should’ve said something sooner.”
“What are you talking about?” He sounds irritated.
“I can’t move here and do this casual thing with you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not just about the sex for me anymore.”
“But I’m your rebound.” His confusion makes me sad.
“I can’t make the feelings go away, Randy.” I look at him—at his gorgeous face, at the panic and the anger—and I know I’m right. It was only a matter of time. At least I didn’t humiliate myself and tell him I’m in love with him outright.
“You were supposed to tell me if it was getting to be too much.” He runs his hand through his hair, his frustration obvious. “I don’t understand. You just got out of a seven-year relationship. This was supposed to be simple.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want things to change. Maybe we could see—”
He cuts me off before I can finish the sentence. “I can’t be your boyfriend, Lily. I almost screwed some chick because you couldn’t make a damn game.”
“But you didn’t. And that was—”
His anger is a wave rising. I don’t know if it’s directed at me or himself, but his words hit me like shattering glass. “The only reason I didn’t was because you showed up. I will fuck you over. Is that what you want?”
“No, Randy. That’s not what I want.”
He jams the key in the ignition and starts the truck. “Then I guess this is it.”
“I guess it is. I’d say we could still be friends, but I’m not so sure that would work out very well.” I leave off the rest, which would go something like this: because I’m in love with you, and I’ll pine over you and cry if I see you with another girl.
“Probably not.” He’s staring straight ahead.
“If I left anything at your place—”
“I’ll give it to Miller to give to you. He’ll be over here all the time.”
“Okay.” I open the door and go to get out, but once again I’ve forgotten to unbuckle my seat belt, so I jerk back.
Randy reaches over and jabs the release with his thumb. He’s still not looking at me.
I lean over and press my lips against his cheek. The sensation is electric. He freezes. I pull away before I make any more bad decisions, like inviting him inside for one last naked session. Or stripping in his truck. “Bye, Randy. Thanks for the ride.”
“All of them, or this one in particular?”
It’s a shot. My heart feels like it’s made of sandstone, and it’s crumbling into dust inside my chest. None of my breakups with Benji ever felt like this.
“All of them, except for this one,” I say.
I slip out of the truck. Randy waits until I’ve unlocked the door to the house. T
hen he takes off down the street without so much as a parting wave.
I step inside the empty house and lock the door behind me. Randy’s absence feels like shards of glass buried in my chest. I don’t make it past taking my shoes off. I sit down on the floor, put my face in my hands, and cry.
Chapter 25
Fun is Not my Middle Name
RANDY
I drove home on autopilot. I don’t remember stopping at lights or pulling into my driveway, but I’m sitting here, staring at my front door, so I must have obeyed the rules of the road. Otherwise there’d be cherries flashing in my rearview.
I cut the engine, but I don’t move. My truck still smells like Lily, so I wanna stay here a little longer. I don’t get what happened. I replay Lily’s time in Chicago in my head, trying to figure out where I went wrong—how I missed the signs. Or maybe I didn’t miss them at all. Maybe I decided not to see them because that would mean admitting I want more than I can have.
I was such an asshole to her.
I sit here until I can see my breath and start to shiver. Trudging to my door, I put my thumb to the keypad and turn the knob. The first thing I do is pour myself a generous shot of vodka. I have to fly out at seven-thirty tomorrow morning for a game. The last thing I should do is get drunk to manage whatever just happened. But I’m feeling shitty about this, so alcohol is the numbing agent of choice.
I get good and shitfaced and watch that little video I made while visiting Lily in Guelph, when I woke her up in the middle of the night for sex. I don’t watch it because I want to jerk off. I mean, yeah, it makes me hard—even as wasted as I am—but it’s the way she’s so unguarded. She’s looking at me like I’m more than just someone she’s passing time and exchanging orgasms with. I knew even then that it was more than what it was supposed to be, and I let it keep happening. Because I wanted it. I wanted her. And now I don’t get to have her at all.
***
Pounding on my door echoes the awful feeling in my head. I peel my eyes open and groan.
Pucked Over (Pucked #3) Page 28
