by Hamel, B. B.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“It matters,” I say.
He looks hurt but he doesn’t look away. His eyes roam my body instead. “Tomorrow we’ll worry about that,” he says finally. “Tonight, I want to feel every inch of this body. I’ve been picturing it for a long time.”
“Yeah?” I ask as he cups my ass and pulls me against him.
“Absolutely.” His cock is stirring against me and I smile at him.
“Okay then. Worry tomorrow. Fun tonight.”
“That’s my girl.” He kisses me as I reach down and stroke him, getting his cock hard again.
We have our fun tonight. In the morning, it’s awkward at first, but soon we fall back into our old habits. We don’t talk about that night. Our friendship continues, both of us working on our finals. Things aren’t great, but they’re not bad, either.
Until I miss my period, and my whole world comes crashing down.
2
Will
Two Years Later
“Will, we must have talk now, yes?”
I sigh and limp into Sergei’s office. He’s staring at me with those cold eyes of his, and I know what he’s going to say before he even says it.
I struggle for a second, but I manage to sit down without too much pain. I put the crutches against the wall next to me, my right leg straight and nearly immobile from the slightly flexible cast.
“You play good,” he says. “Very good. Team happy. You score, good player. Everyone like you very much.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’ve enjoyed myself.” I don’t bother speaking Russian to him. I’ve been told my Russian is atrocious and borderline offensive.
“Money tight now, you know this. I discuss with other manager, we all decide together. Will, we must cut you. I am very sorry.”
I sigh and nod. “I understand. Can’t keep a guy that may never play again on the payroll, can you?”
“No,” he says, sighing. “Especially not American. If Russian, we keep you, make you coach. But not American.”
“I understand.” I sigh a little, shifting. I’ve been playing for Vityaz Podmoskovje for this past season, mostly playing wing and scoring some of the best goals of my career. I’ve been bouncing around the KHL, Europe’s largest hockey league, ever since leaving Notre Dame and failing to make the NHL. Recently though, I blew out my knee during a game, and I was told that I may never skate again.
I’m not really surprised they’re cutting me. Vityaz isn’t exactly the best team in the league and it’s been bleeding money for a few years now as attendance slowly falls. Foreigners are always first on the chopping block, especially injured ones.
“Please, take your time gathering your things. We will pay out contract, yes, help you if we can.”
“Thanks, Sergei.”
He nods a little, frowning. “What will you do?”
“Go back home, I guess,” I say, although I’m dreading it. “Nothing left for me here.”
He nods and stands. “Good luck.” He come around the desk and helps me to my feet. We gets my crutches and he helps me out of his office.
I’ve had a good experience playing for Vityaz and the KHL in general. Sergei in particular has been a good guy, as good as any manager I’ve had. We shake hands and I limp off back toward the locker room where one of my teammates, a Latvian guy named Jardis, is waiting.
“Cut you, huh?”
I nod. “Cut me real good.”
“Bastards.” He grins at me. “Saw it coming, though.”
I sigh. “Still sucks. Now I have to go back to America.”
“What’s so bad about that?” He helps me start packing up my locker. “America’s a good place. Big and beautiful, beautiful women, beautiful parks. Not so bad?”
I shrug a little. “Got a lot of shit back home.”
“Ah,” he says. “There’s a woman.”
I flinch, the image of Addie coming to mind. I’ve barely spoken to her in two years, ever since we graduated. That night we spent together after the last hockey party has haunted me every day. I know I fucked up by not telling her what I wanted to say back then, but it’s too late now.
I remember trying to talk to her before I left for Russia. Eleanor just shook her head and told me that she wasn’t home. I stood outside her window and yelled, because I knew she was there, but the only thing I saw was her curtain ruffle slightly then go still. She never answered my calls.
So I left without saying goodbye. I had no other choice.
She ghosted me after that night. Well, not right after. Things went back to being okay. But a little over a month later, she disappeared from my life without a trace. My best friend, totally gone, and I still have no fucking clue why.
I blame myself, obviously. I’m such a piece of shit. I should’ve just told her back then. I should’ve just said that I wanted more than a friendship from her, but I was too fucking afraid.
Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve written her some emails over the years, tried calling some, but she never answers. Now I’m going back to Weston, back to the quaint Connecticut town we both grew up in, and maybe I’ll see her again.
“Definitely woman,” Jardis says, grinning at me. “The way you stare into space? You’re thinking of her. Fucked her once, I think.”
“Fuck you,” I say, and we both laugh together.
We finish packing and shake hands. “It was good playing with you,” I say to him. “Maybe we’ll get on the ice again together one day.”
He nods solemnly. “You take care of yourself.”
I take one last look at the team’s locker room before heading back to my little flat at the edge of town. It takes me maybe half a day to pack everything I own, another day to book my flight, and soon I’m speeding back toward America with no prospects and no future.
It feels weird to be in a country where I can actually read all the signs. I thought I might have some kind of deep feeling when I stepped back onto American soil for the first time in over a year, but I feel nothing, just hollow and aching from sitting for so damn long.
As soon as I’m in the back of a cab, my knee aching like hell and my crutches shoved into the seat next to me, I get out my phone and power it on. There aren’t any messages, which isn’t surprising. My father knows I’m coming home to stay with him for a while, at least until I’m back on my feet.
The cabbie looks back at me as we pull into traffic. “Broke your knee?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Tore a ligament. It’s actually not that bad.”
He raises an eyebrow. “So what’s with the crutches and everything?”
I shrug. “Precaution, I guess. I can probably start walking on it pretty soon.”
“Precaution for what?”
“I was a professional hockey player before this.” I give him a pained smile. “Thought I might be able to get through it.”
He nods, turning back to the road. “Shit luck then.”
“Yeah, shit luck.”
I stare at my phone for a second before pulling up Addie’s number on a whim. I type her a quick text. “Hi Addie, long time no see. I’m coming back to Weston. It’d be cool to see you again. Let me know if you’re free.” I hesitate for a second before hitting send.
She doesn’t respond. I’m not surprised. She never responds. I watch as the city turns into country and soon we’re back in my hometown, although it’s the last place I want to be right now.
I tip the cabbie after he helps me carry my bags up to the front step. I limp my way to the front door and ring the bell, feeling weird. I haven’t been back here in a long time, not since the summer before sophomore year. My father and I aren’t exactly close right now, but I need a place to stay while I heal up. I have money, but not a lot, and I really need to save it if I’m going to get my shit together soon.
My dad answers a minute later. He’s tall and broad, with dark hair and dark eyes. “The prodigal son returns,” he says.
&nbs
p; “Hi, dad. Thanks for letting me stay with you.”
He shrugs. “No problem, sonny.” He grins and looks at my knee. “That’s the reason you’re here, huh?”
“Yep,” I say.
“Sucks. Told you hockey wouldn’t work out.” He turns and heads back into the house without another word.
Fucking asshole. My father is a salesman, or at least he used to be. He’s the owner of this sports supplement company that basically sells snake oil pills. He made a fortune doing it, though, and that means he thinks he knows fucking everything.
I sigh and limp my way inside. I drag a bag behind me and leave it at the foot of the stairs. I go back and forth, bringing all my stuff inside, until I’m finally finished. I shut the door behind me and stare at the pile.
“Fuck it,” I say, and limp upstairs. It takes me a bit, and I just leave my crap down there for now. I find my old room and head inside, relieved that there’s still a bed in here at least.
I flop down onto the bed, feeling like a fucking kid again. I hate being back here, hate that my hockey career is over, and I feel like my whole life is crumbling around me. I pull out my phone, suddenly desperate for the only person in my entire life that could ever make me feel better. I call Eleanor this time, choosing her landline specifically, hoping to catch her before she realizes that it’s me.
Eleanor doesn’t answer, though. Instead, that old familiar voice picks up, and my heart skips a beat. “Hello?” Addie says.
“Addie.” I feel breathless. I can’t believe it’s her. I expect to catch Eleanor, maybe beg her to put me in touch with Addie. This is too good to be true.
Addie doesn’t say anything for a second. “Hi, Will,” she says finally.
“Been a while.”
“Yeah.” She sounds tense, closed off. I recognize it from years ago.
“Look, I’m back in town. I sent you a message earlier.”
“I got it.”
I frown a little. “It’d be cool to see you,” I say.
“Yeah, maybe.” Another short pause. “I gotta go.”
She hangs up abruptly.
“What the hell,” I say softly to myself, letting my cell drop onto my comforter. Although that conversation went pretty horribly, and Addie is clearly trying to avoid me, it felt so good just to hear her voice.
And she’s in town. She’s at Eleanor’s place, which is actually really close to here. I haven’t been so close to Addie in a long time. Apparently she hates me now, but at least she’s nearby.
I take a deep breath and let it out. I smile despite myself.
“Hey, idiot!” My dad’s voice cuts into my short-lived good mood. “Come get your shit, don’t leave it down here.”
I sigh and slowly get out of bed. I’m not looking forward to being home. I’m not happy about my injury or my ruined career.
But at least Addie’s home, too. At least I can go see her and figure out why the hell she seems to fucking hate me so much.
At least there’s one small thing to try and look forward to.
3
Addie
I stretch out and groan a little bit before sighing. The blanket under me is a little scratchy, but the sun’s high in the sky and it’s a beautiful summer day in Weston, Connecticut.
I roll over onto my stomach. I check my phone for the hundredth time since Will called the house yesterday. I half expect to find a text from him every single time, but there’s nothing. I’m partially relieved, partially pissed off, and majorly confused.
I look out across the perfectly manicured lawn, out at the forest that surrounds Eleanor’s property. She owns a few acres, including a ton of pristine forest. She plans on turning it into a public park when she passes, which is pretty common for rich people in Weston. It’s a beautiful town with lots of trees and rivers and even a few waterfalls. It’s about as rural as it gets, and people want to keep it that way.
Eleanor’s lived here her whole life. I moved here from Hartford after I was taken from my parents and she adopted me. I’ve loved it here ever since, how peaceful and beautiful it is. Eleanor’s taken care of me like a mother and I love her to death, although I’ve been thinking more and more lately about leaving Weston.
It’s just not that easy for me. I wish it were. I get up to my knees and slowly stand, sighing a little bit. I gather up my things, blanket folded and pushed under one arm, and I head back to the house.
I find Eleanor sitting in the kitchen near the back window, reading a book. “Nice day out there?” she says as a greeting.
“Beautiful,” I agree. I put my stuff down on the table and grab an apple from the basket on the counter. “Is Cara with Julissa?”
Eleanor nods. She’s a pale woman with gray hair, long and pulled back into a tight braid. She’s the most elegant person I’ve ever seen in my life, and I don’t think I’ve so much as seen her slouch. But she’s not stuck up, like so many rich people are in this town. She’s the most generous and loving person there is.
I turn to go check on Cara, but Eleanor clears her throat, stopping me short. I know that noise. It means she has something to say that I’m not going to like.
“He called again,” she says.
I look back at her. “Who did?” I ask sweetly, although I know exactly who she means.
She gives me a stern look. “That’s three times today. Are you going to keep ignoring him?”
“I don’t know who you mean.”
Her stern look turns into a glare. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, Addie, but he deserves at least a conversation.”
I stare back at her and sigh. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
“He’s been good to you. I don’t know what he did, but he’s no monster and you know it.”
“I know, El,” I say. I’m the only person in the world that gets away with calling her “El,” which is what makes it special. She’s more than just a mother to me, but I can’t ever call her “mom.” That word’s been ruined for me.
I head upstairs and find Julissa reading to Cara in her room. Cara looks up and is excited to see me, but she doesn’t move from Julissa’s lap. Julissa is an older woman, maybe mid-forties, with olive skin and dark, curly hair. She winks at me and keeps reading.
When she finishes, Cara hops off her lap and runs over to me. “Mommy!”
I scoop my daughter up into my arms. “Hi, sweetie,” I say. “How was story time?”
“Good,” she says.
“Want to play?”
“Yes.”
I put her down and she teeters back into the room. She falls down at Julissa’s feet and starts playing with some dolls she has lying on the floor.
I cross my arms and watch her, smiling. Cara was born nine months after I slept with Will, nine agonizing months. I kept thinking I’d give her up for adoption, but as soon as she was born I knew I couldn’t. Eleanor’s been letting us stay with her, and she hired Julissa to help, which has really been a lifesaver. I don’t know what I would’ve done without Julissa’s help.
“She’s in a good mood today,” Julissa says softly, leaning up against the wall near me.
“Yeah, well, I think it’s because it’s a nice day out.”
“We should take her for a walk.”
I nod and check my watch. “Let me get dressed real quick.”
I head back into my bedroom and strip off my clothes. I stand in the mirror for a second, looking at my body. I let out a sigh as my mind ranges back to that night with Will, the night I keep trying to forget but can’t seem to stop thinking about.
That’s the first and last time I’ve been touched by a man. It was incredible. We slept together over and over again until we were both exhausted and spent. It was like years of flirting and friendship and pent-up energy just exploded suddenly, and it all came crashing down in the morning. He didn’t say anything about it, and I pretended like I didn’t care.
But it was tearing me up inside. We stayed friends, although I could feel myself p
ulling away from him. I couldn’t understand how we could have sex like that, but still just stay friends. Obviously, we were so much more.
And then I found out about Cara, and everything changed.
I take a breath and let it out. I don’t want to dwell on that. Those were really bad days. I remember Will calling and even showing up at the house. He was leaving for Russia to play in the KHL, and he wanted to say goodbye to me. But I just ignored him, just like I’d been ignoring him for a few months before that. I couldn’t let him see me.
I didn’t want him to know that I was pregnant.
It’s been hard, keeping Cara a secret. It helps that Will was in Russia for so long, although he’s back, apparently. I kept Cara off social media, and we’ve been keeping to ourselves. It helps that Eleanor is so respected in the community. People aren’t gossiping like they normally would.
I can’t keep our daughter a secret forever, though. Eventually, Will’s going to find out about her, and I’m terrified he’ll realize that he’s the father.
I can’t tell him now. It’s been too long. I hated him back then, I was so angry about what happened that night and how he said we’d talk about what it meant but never did. That anger’s faded a lot over these past two years, although I can still feel it dimly, simmering away deep in my gut.
It’s just too late. I don’t know how to tell him the truth, even if I wanted to. I fucked up keeping this from him and now I have to live with it.
Even though every single cell in my body is screaming for me to run over to his house right now and throw my arms around him.
I miss him so much it hurts.
I finish getting dressed and step out into the hall. The old wooden floor creaks under my hiking boots. “Meet me downstairs,” I call out.
“Sounds good,” Julissa replies, and Cara squeals with mixed delight and annoyance.
I head over to the stairs and I hear the phone ringing as my boot hits the top step, another creak filling the otherwise empty space. I pause there, flashing back to Will’s voice. I tense and don’t move, heart beating fast, sweat on my skin. I grip the bannister and take another few quick steps down the stairs, more creaking but this time sharp, as the phone keeps ringing.
