Smokeshow: A Hockey Love story

by Miller, Raine

  Georg brings Logan back and tells him he has to eat two chicken fingers before they can play another game. I watch, mouth hanging open, as the little guy actually shoves a chicken finger in his mouth. No whining. No negotiating. He just does it. Like magic.

  “Maybe it’s time for you and Pam to talk about kiddos,” I say to Georg, nodding at Logan. “You got that pretty well under control right there.”

  “Well, I thought Pam and I made a pact when we got together that we weren’t interested in having kids.” He glances at Pam, who is now making silly faces at baby Alex. “But she seems to have baby lust lately.”

  “Having your own baby is different, though,” Vik chimes in.

  “It’s not the kids I dislike,” Georg says. “It’s just that I probably wouldn’t be any good at being a father.”

  “Well, my opinion? Any dad who loves his kids is better than no dad at all,” I say, raising a toast and mouthing, “Fuck their deadbeat dad wherever he is.”

  “I do have the emotional range of a four-year-old,” Georg says, presumably to cut the serious talk, “so I should get along with kids just fine. Right, Logan? We get along just fine.”

  Logan grins up at him and hands him a crayon. They color together while Logan eats his second chicken finger. Once he’s finished, he jumps from the high stool and practically drags Georg off his, leading them both back to the games.

  “I’m like chopped liver when that guy’s around,” I comment.

  “Not to me,” Irina says quietly, just to me, before going back to her conversation with Scarlett. She pays no attention to the kids at all, so I guess her statement is true. In fact, that’s just it. She’s paid no attention to the kids, and it’s made me think of Zoya even more. If she was here, she’d be next to Haley, asking her about books and unicorns and the fun things they do with the nanny. She’d be giving Logan hugs whenever he reached his arms up to her, because he’s a hugger, then giving him a toy dinosaur, just because he loves them. She’d be next to me, asking me how I’m coping, like she does in her text messages. But I’d get to look in her eyes as she asked me.

  But she’s not here.

  And so far, I’ve avoided asking about Zoya, but I keep checking my phone, thinking about texting her to come join us. Irina turns back to me as I pull up Zoya’s contact in my phone.

  “She hates hockey,” she says, by way of explanation. “You know that.”

  “Well, people gotta eat.”

  “She has a midterm to study for. I think she ordered dinner and stayed in.”

  “Cool.”

  I say the word…but I’m anything but feeling cool about it.

  * * *

  Irina offered to help me get the kids back to my place after dinner. It’s way past their bedtime, so as soon as teeth are brushed and pajamas are on, they lie right down and crash the minute their heads hit the pillows. I shut the door to their room and find Irina on the couch, flipping through channels on the television.

  “You want a beer?” I ask.

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  I pad over to the fridge, opening it up and pulling out two cold ones. When I turn around though, Irina is there. Right there. Very close. I start to open my mouth to make a joke, but she kisses me before anything comes out of my mouth.

  I start to pull away, to get some space, but she’s forceful, her hand moving to rub against my cock over my jeans.

  “I just want sex, Tyler,” she says against my mouth. “Nothing more. No strings. I’ve wanted this for months.”

  I can’t really back away any farther, otherwise I’d be inside my refrigerator. Zoya—no!—it's Irina nipping at my lips, growling, and rubbing her hand over my cock. My mind can only think of Zoya. Her sister. Oh God, no. This is wrong. It can’t happen.

  I push past her and take a few steps, putting the two beers on the counter. “Irina—”

  “Don’t you dare say my sister’s name,” she hisses.

  “I didn’t,” I say, hands up in surrender. “I’m not.”

  She steps forward, rubbing her hand over my cock again. “I want to get you hard. Will you get hard for me?”

  This is what I wanted, right? I wanted random, meaningless sex. I wanted to get Zoya out of my head. And here is a beautiful, smart, no-nonsense woman who wants exactly that. So why am I only getting semi-hard? Why am I about eighty-percent disinterested in this whole thing?

  I blow out a long sigh and move Irina’s hand away from my junk. “I’m sorry, Irina—I can’t. You’re sexy as fuck but—”

  “I’m not Zoya. Got it.”

  She heads to the door, grabbing her bag, and saying, “I won’t bother you again.”

  The door slams behind her and the room becomes eerily quiet.

  Fuck. What trouble am I about to be in?

  Twenty-Three

  Zoya

  Z-VALUE

  I look at my phone for the tenth time. Where's Irina?

  I’m sitting at our favorite lunch spot near campus, where she said she would meet me after class. I’ve called and texted and she hasn’t responded, which is unlike her. There was a hockey game last night—I know she went. Maybe she went out drinking after?

  I won’t lie. I stayed in studying, but I probably spent a third of my time fretting over the thought of Irina going out with Tyler after the game. Now, sitting here alone with my sister missing in action, I wonder if she went home with him. I am really wondering if they slept together.

  It would serve me right if they did. I could have had him, but I put him back in the friend zone. It's my actions that led to this, so I can only blame myself if my sister slept with the guy I might be falling in love with, right?

  They are both consenting adults. It's not fair of me to push him away and then expect him not to want other women. Honestly, I shouldn't get worked up about this because he's not long-term relationship material anyway. We might have had fun once or twice, but he will never settle down. It wouldn't have lasted. Besides, Tyler is my friend only—I told him we shouldn't be more. He can sleep with anyone he wants.

  Still, it's not like Irina to ignore my calls and texts, so I worry as I order a cup of soup, pulling out my biology book to study while I wait.

  When that becomes pointless, I give up and head to class, Jay taking his seat next to mine as usual. We have been hanging out just as friends. I'm not interested in having a boyfriend or dating anyone right now. I told Jay I want his friendship, but needed to focus on my grades this semester, and he understood.

  “You look worried,” he says, pushing his thumb against the lines creasing between my eyes.

  “I can't reach my sister. We were supposed to meet for lunch, but she didn't show, and isn't answering my texts or calls.”

  “Did she go out last night?”

  “I think she may have gone with the hockey crowd to the game. Perhaps to watch Tyler?”

  “Maybe she slept over somewhere and her phone died?”

  “Maybe. It's probably that. Perhaps she slept at Tyler’s…”

  I trail off, flipping through my notebook, starting to doodle as the professor gives instructions for the midterm.

  “And you’re not okay with them sleeping together?”

  “I'm okay with it.”

  “Have you changed you mind about him? I thought you said friend zone only. No dating hockey players, blah, blah, blah.”

  “I haven't changed my mind, Jay.”

  “Have you changed your mind about me?” he asks slyly.

  I look up and he wiggles his eyebrows, giving me a wide, silly grin.

  “No. Absolutely not.” I stifle a giggle. “You are stupid.”

  “I’m not stupid,” he answers, mock-hurt. “And to prove it, I’m going to read your mind. You like this Tyler, even though you don’t want to. Maybe more than friends, and definitely enough that you feel resentful of your sister maybe sleeping with him.”

  I start a little, looking back at him. “Wow. That was…oddly accurate. Thou
gh I'll deny I ever said it if you repeat it.”

  He punches me lightly on the arm as the test bundle gets passed down our row. “I am a genius at reading women.”

  “You need to be a genius at reading biology,” I tell him.

  “Don’t be jealous of my mad skills. Also, and I’m being serious here, and you need to be honest about your feelings. If not with me, at least with yourself. This shit can get messy. If you care about him, you should tell him.”

  * * *

  I look at my phone and realize I was supposed to meet Tyler for statistics tutoring. My stomach flips, butterflies invading as I walk to the coffee shop. I half expect he won't show up—partially because Irina didn't this morning, and partially because of the way I left things with him the last time I saw him.

  I swing open the glass door and scan the space, nearly breaking into tears when I see him, his back to the door, sitting across from Logan and Haley, who are happily munching cookies and drinking smoothies.

  Tyler turns, almost as if he has radar, and gives me a heartbreakingly wide smile when he sees me. He stands and I'm in his strong arms, hugging him and breathing in his delicious clean scent before I even have a conscious thought about it.

  “Hey, Smokeshow,” he says, his chin resting on my head. “Good to see you, too.”

  I take a seat between the kids, and they start babbling about their experience in Vegas so far. They tell me about the hockey game, about playing video games with Georg.

  “Georg is my big brother; did you know that?” I smile at them, happy to just be with all of them again. I’ve missed them all so much.

  “I love him!” Logan yells. “He playeded video games with me.”

  “Played, Logan, not playeded,” Tyler corrects.

  “Georg,” Logan says with a giggle.

  Tyler looks at me and shakes his head. “He won’t stop talking about Georg. It’s like he’s found his soulmate or something.”

  “That is scary.”

  “Right?”

  I pull out my book, but the effort is futile. It’s been nine days since I’ve seen Tyler, and every time I look at him, he steals my breath. And his little charges? I simply cannot believe the life and happiness in their eyes. They were so guarded and quiet when I first met them, yet now, after such a short time with their big brother, they are completely different. Seems like Ty has that effect on every person he meets. Which makes staying away even harder.

  After thirty minutes of not even opening a book, Tyler says, “Sorry, Zo. Guess the kids have missed you too much. Do you want to come over and study at my place? I can call for Chinese takeout?”

  “Sounds great,” I say, happy to see we are okay, that he doesn't want to avoid me now after I friend-zoned him for a second time.

  * * *

  I'm just as happy to see him when he opens the door to his apartment as I was when I saw him at the coffee shop earlier.

  “We should be good for at least an hour. The kids are watching a movie,” he says after inviting me in. He's looking incredibly delicious in ripped jeans and a black Crush T-shirt. His cropped blond hair slightly damp from the shower, the fresh scent of soap or body wash, or whatever addicting elixir it creates when mixed with him, floats up my nose. I'm doomed to failure . . . I just know it. How can I concentrate on stats with him looking and smelling this good?

  "Thanks for doing this, Tyler."

  "I told you, any time, Smokeshow. You need help with stats, I am your guy."

  I wish you were my guy.

  Getting to work, I spread out my laptop and notebook. “Now, I’m having issues with the codebook dialogue,” I say opening my project program on my laptop.

  Tyler shifts his body closer next to mine, glancing over the tables. “Did you choose your variables of interest then run them from the procedure dialogue? Usually they have the same basic components,” he shares assuredly.

  “Okay, done. Next, I have a problem with the population parameter,” I say getting anxious.

  “What’s your concern?"

  “My margin of error seems low.”

  “The Z-value?” Tyler asks. He leans over me again, his masculine scent temporarily distracting me again, though I catch myself and refocus on the data table before he can notice.

  “Yes.”

  “We need to add in your number of standard errors to measure the Z-value accurately. There, fixed it for you,” he declares, hands tapping over my keyboard.

  “So, I will achieve my desired confidence level?” I say, thinking about my own inner desires about him.

  “Yeah. Your percentage confidence should be right where you want it.” Tyler says it while looking deeply into my eyes.

  “Okay, now let's go on to the analysis,” I say, quickly clicking through the program tabs before I succumb and kiss him again.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later.

  “What if a relationship exists between the variables in the real world, but your test found no significant relationship?” He quizzes me in preparation for my project presentation. The words “relationship” and “real world” hanging in the air, heavy with implication. I wonder if he hears those words as loudly as I do?

  “I would be making a false negative error?” I ask, unable to stop staring at his chiseled jawline, or keep my heart from melting.

  “Right, you’d think it doesn’t occur, when in fact, it does.”

  The implications are not lost on either of us, as we keep staring intently into each other’s eyes.

  Almost on the hour, the kids enter and announce they are hungry, so Tyler calls for takeout. We sit at the table together for the meal, the kids again talking up a storm. When he tells them it’s time to start getting ready for bed, he looks at me, but I don’t know how to read his expression.

  “Are you okay? You have a weird look on your face.”

  “I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head like he’s trying to shake away a thought.

  “Well, for what it is worth, I appreciate your technical assistance. Even just a little time with you, and I feel completely prepared for my stats project presentation. You are a terrific tutor. And, as it turns out, a pretty good dad-brother, too.”

  “I just want to be a regular brother,” he says glumly.

  “Well, they need more right now. And they are happy, so I think you've been nailing it.”

  He grins, almost shyly. “Well, I have learned one thing. I am definitely not ready to be a real dad yet. Not by a long shot. Someday, maybe—which is a huge change of tune for me—but not right now. It’s a lot of work. A lot of lifestyle adjustment.”

  “Well, a break from your recent lifestyle might have been a good thing,” I say with a shrug.

  “Maybe. I need to figure something out, though. Something long-term, and not back with our mom. I don’t think I can really do this right now. Not alone and so early in my career, you know? I travel too much. They’re not pets. I can’t just board them every time I leave town. They deserve better—better than the life they had with my mom. Also better than what I can give them right now.”

  “They seem really happy, Ty. They are enjoying being here with you.”

  “They’re great,” he says sincerely. “Honestly, super awesome. I’m sure this is, like, a big vacation for them. But what’s next? Where do they go? They need something stable and permanent. Normal. In a normal house with normal parents.”

  “Well, I think they only need someone who loves them and puts them first. Really it's all any of us need if you think about it.”

  He reaches out and messes my hair. “You are wise beyond your years, Zo. Oh, and speakin’ of which, I took your advice. I called the courts and offered to pay for my mom to go into a one-year rehabilitation program as soon as she finishes her sentence. So, who knows? Maybe I do this for the next two, three years and when she gets well, I can find them all a place here in Vegas so I can keep an eye on ’em. Wouldn’t that be something?”

  I can tell he’s trying
to talk himself into this idea, that he maybe doesn't believe it can actually happen. After all, his mother has been in and out of rehab already. She always falls back into bad, old habits. The kids always suffer for it. I can see how he would be nervous bringing the possibility of that drama so close.

  “I think you did the right thing, but the right thing can also change, over time, so maybe take small steps. The path will reveal itself.”

  “You Zen master.” He smiles at me and my heart does that thing I'm getting very used to it doing. It bounces around inside my chest like an excited puppy.

  “I know this is all a big change. Do you miss your life before? Sleeping with random women, partying all the time?”

  Tyler licks his lips as he looks at my face. It makes me blush. “No,” he finally says. “I think that part of my life might be over now. If nothing else, this is a wake-up call. I need to be a better role model for Haley and Logan. They need someone substantial in their lives. If it’s gotta be me, then it’s gotta be me.”

  “Well, you are a good man, Tyler Lockhardt. You really are.”

  “You have helped. Seriously. Your friendship has helped. You mean a lot to me.”

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m overwhelmed, suddenly, and I really, really want to kiss him. I lean in. He leans in. And just as our mouths meet, the door to the kids’ bedroom opens with a squeak. The sound of a crying boy fills the space.

  Scooping Logan into his arms, Ty asks him what’s wrong. He takes Logan to the couch, comforting him while he tells Ty about a scary dream with a "mean man." Poor baby. This source behind Logan's dream is going to wreck Tyler. I feel like now is not the time for me to intrude. He needs some privacy with his family, and I really shouldn't make a mistake I can’t take back by staying here with him. So... I kiss first Logan and then Ty on the head before telling him I need to get back to the dorm.