Those Three Little Words

“Those aren’t the shoes you wear when we play the Freeze,” Taters says while we both head to the locker room in preparation for game time.

“I’m well aware.”

“Are you trying to jeopardize our chances tonight?”

“My shoes were incapacitated for tonight.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I consider telling him everything that happened this morning, from the vomit to the kick to the cock, but I realize it’s probably not in my best interest to share what Penny’s going through. She was embarrassed enough as it is. The last thing she needs is for the rest of the Agitators to know what’s going on between the walls of the apartment.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” I nudge him with my shoulder. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“When am I not ready?”

“The other day, you weren’t. You actually sucked.”

“Coming from the guy who couldn’t check a duster in the boards if his life depended on it.”

“I’m going through some things right now,” I defend.

“Yeah, well . . . you’re not the only one.”

“What does that mean?” I ask just as I hear footsteps behind us.

“Wait up, you guys,” Posey says, jogging after us. I glance over just to see him reach me with a bag of gummy bears in hand. He presses it against my chest when he catches up, and he says, “To refill your stash. Can’t have you not have your lucky bears before a game.” He glances down at my shoes. “Hey, those aren’t the right shoes.”

Groaning, I say, “I know. Enough with the shoes, okay?”

“What did I just walk in on?” Posey asks, hands held up.

“Apparently, his shoes are incapacitated,” Taters says.

“And apparently, Taters is going through something emotional right now.”

“With Sarah, I know,” Posey says haphazardly and then winces while quickly making eye contact with Taters. “Uh, I mean . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I pause in the hallway and turn toward Taters. “Are you seeing her again?”

“The other night,” Posey answers, only to receive a death glare from Taters. “Uh, you know, I’m actually going to jog ahead of you guys. Warm up the legs a bit.” And then he takes off.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Taters says, moving forward as well.

“Dude, she’s fucking with you.”

“You don’t know that,” he answers. “You have no fucking clue what we talked about.”

“Then what did you discuss?” I ask.

“Why don’t you worry about Pacey’s sister who you got pregnant and stay out of my personal life.” Before I can stop him, he picks up his pace as well and heads down the hallway.

What the actual fuck? When has he ever not told me anything? He shares everything with me. What’s changed?

Gummy bears in hand, I start down the hall and realize I don’t want to head to the locker room just yet, not after that “delightful” conversation, so instead, I move toward the offices. I’m going to check on Penny one more time before I can’t because I’m strapped to the ice for our game.

“GOOD LUCK TONIGHT,” someone says as I walk through the hallway. I wish I knew everyone’s names who works for the team, but unfortunately, I don’t spend enough time here to grow familiar. Instead, I offer a fist bump and keep moving toward Penny’s office.

“Looking good,” one of the guys from marketing says as he moves past me. “Hey, where are the lucky shoes?”

Note to self, don’t designate wardrobe anymore. It only creates a hassle in the long run.

“Got them dirty,” I say. “These will work, though.” I offer the guy a wink, which feels odd, but I don’t know what else to do, and make the right at the hallway toward Penny’s office.

When I reach her door, I give it a slight knock and then let myself in, only to stop dead in my tracks when I see another man in her office.

But not just any man . . . Remi Gasper.

What the actual fuck?

“Gasper,” I say, straightening up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He stands from the chair situated across from Penny and buttons his suit jacket. “Just saying hello to an old friend,” he answers, with that aggravating grin of his. “Good to see you too, Hornsby.”

Penny stands, and the worried expression that crosses her face snaps me out of my tunnel vision of wanting to chuck this guy through her glass door. “Well, you said hi, now you can move along.”

He smirks even wider and then walks around Penny’s desk, where he pulls her into a hug and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Think about dinner, okay? Would love to spend more time with you.”

Dinner? Over my dead fucking body.

He lets Penny go and moves toward me, where his shoulder bumps into mine. “Still see you believe gummy bears will help you. Laughable, dude. See you out on the ice,” he says before moving out of the door and shutting it behind him.

“Hey, Eli—”

“How the hell do you know him?”

Her eyes draw into concern. “What do you mean? I grew up with him. He was good friends with Pacey. They played together for a long time.”

For some reason, that rings a bell. Pacey’s never said too much about Gasper because he knows how much everyone on the team absolutely hates him, and for good reason. If only he knew Gasper was behind why I wasn’t there to help Holden. Something makes me think Pacey wouldn’t want to be friends with him much longer.

“Is there something going on between the two of you?” I ask.

“Are you serious? Eli, I just told you this morning I don’t have time or energy for that. Can you not understand that? And what does it matter? It’s not like you and I are together. You don’t have claim over me.”

“I don’t want that fucker around my baby.”

“Your baby?” she asks, folding her arms, preparing for battle.

“I mean our baby,” I attempt to correct myself. “He’s a shit person.”

“No, he’s not,” she defends, which of course raises my anger to the next level. “Do you even know him?”

“Yeah, I fucking do. He’s the reason at least three guys on our team have been blasted in the backs of the knees by his stick. He plays dirty and will do anything to win, even if that means doing something that’s possibly career-ending. And you’re friends with him?”

“He is aggressive but not purposeful with what he does.”

“Are you really defending him right now?” I hold my arms out, one hand still gripping the stupid five-pound bag of gummy bears.

“Are you really in my office yelling at me?” she asks.

Bringing my arms back, I take a deep breath. “You shouldn’t be hanging out with him, and you definitely will not be going out to dinner with him.”

“Excuse me? Are you now telling me what I can and cannot be doing?”

“I’m trying to educate you.”

From the way her eyes light on fire, I can immediately tell that was the wrong thing to say.

“I don’t need you to educate me,” she says through clenched teeth. “I know Remi. You only see him during the games. I know him outside of hockey. And he’s a good man. He’s been very helpful toward our family over the years and cares about the same things we care about. He’s helped Pacey with his charities and has given a lot back to our hometown. Sure, he can get excited during a game, but that doesn’t define him.”

“The way you act on the ice is a direct depiction of who you are as a man,” I say. “And there’s no honor in his body.” Not wanting to discuss this anymore, I turn toward the door, ready to walk out when I remember what I came up here for. Gripping the doorframe, I ask, “How are you feeling?”

“Go to hell, Eli,” she says, and I take that as just fine.

“DUDE, your vibe is not really settling me right now,” Posey says next to me as we warm up. “You’re all charged up.”

I am.

I’m fucking ready to go.

My eyes haven’t left Gasper since I got on the ice. I’ve watched him skate around, stretch, and even joke around with a few of the guys on both teams. Three years ago, we were playing game seven in the playoffs that would grant us a spot for a try at the cup. Game was tied. It was the third period. He took a cheap shot at Holmes and knocked him to the ground. The ref ignored the attempt to take out our center, blatantly favoring Gasper. Holmes was out with an injury, and they ended up taking the win. That was the moment I started hating this guy.

What solidified my hatred for him . . . well, we all know that by now.

“Just ready for the game,” I say, gripping my stick tightly.

“Okay, because it doesn’t quite look like you’re ready for the game. It looks like you’re ready to murder.”

Yeah, that too.

“Did you have some gummy bears?” he continues. “Because I can have Hank run back to the locker room and grab you some.”

“I’m fine.” I pat him on the shoulder and skate to the bench, where I pick up my water bottle, giving it a good squirt into my mouth.

The teams are rounded up, and we get ready for the national anthem. We all line up, and as we parade through the beginning ceremonies, I keep my mind mentally set on one thing and one thing only—making sure Gasper has one hell of a shitty game.

I’m fired up.

I’m ready to take him out.

And nothing, and I mean nothing is going to stop me.

Once the national anthem is over, we all skate into our positions. The refs are huddled together as Gasper skates up to me. That fucking grin on his face makes me want to shove my elbow into his teeth.

“So, you and Penny, huh?” he asks, and I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to goad me like he always does.

I don’t answer him, but instead, I grip my stick tighter and get into position, ready for the puck to drop. Taking the hint that we’re not here to have tea and gab, he does the same. He presses his shoulder against mine and slaps his stick on the ice.

“I’m surprised Pacey even let you near her.” He’s just loud enough for me to hear him over the roar of the crowd and the announcers. “I thought I was the only hockey player he trusted around her.”

My teeth grind together as my hands grip my stick so tightly I’m afraid I might snap it in half before the game even starts.

“Seems as though things have changed, though. At least what I gathered. You looked protective. You like her, Hornsby?”

I keep my mouth shut and stare at the ice, willing the refs to hurry the fuck up so I can do some damage . . . undetected.

“Don’t want to talk about it? I get it,” he says, his voice dark . . . sinister. “Hard to talk about Penny Lawes without wanting to talk about all of her attributes.”

Don’t do something stupid. Keep it together. He’s poking you for a reason, to get you to react, to get you to hurt the team and make this win an easy one for him.

“Fucking great tits, right?”

And . . .

I explode.

You can’t talk about my goddamn Penny like that and get away with it.

I turn on him so fast that he’s not expecting it. I drop my stick, and I clock him right in the helmet before shucking my gloves and helmet and barreling into him, bringing him down to the ground where I straddle his body.

But he’s quick and well-trained, and he rolls me over and blasts me in the face with a punch before I roll him over and swing, clocking him in the nose. That’s as far as we go before we’re pulled away from each other by our teammates.

“What the fuck?” Posey says, holding me by the arms while Pacey stands between Gasper and me. His eyes pierce me.

“He’s saying shit about your sister,” I say, spitting out blood before I’m taken to the bench where I know I’ll be serving a ten-minute misconduct penalty.

“The game hasn’t even started, you fuckhead,” Taters says, coming up to me as well. “You’re giving us a disadvantage.”

“He was saying shit about Penny.”

“To get under your skin.” Taters tosses my helmet at me, which I catch. “Jesus fuck. We did not need that right now.”

“I’m not going to let him—”

All hell breaks out on the ice again, but this time, it’s Pacey who’s in the mix of it all, pulling Gasper’s jersey over his head while throwing uppercuts. I hop off the bench, scale the boards, and then skate out to the ice along with our teammates as we get into a five-minute brawl with the Polar Freeze.

Needless to say . . . we lose the game.

But the fans were entertained.

PACEY: What the fuck did he say?

I’m sitting in my car, outside of Penny’s apartment, not excited to go inside out of fear of what she’s going to say to me. After the loss, we received a blistering speech from our coach, who threw a few hockey sticks at a table in the middle of the locker room, knocking over some food. He apologized to the staff, helped them clean it up, and then we quietly all went our own ways. We were never able to recover after losing Pacey and me for ten minutes, and the loss did not come at the best time since we are racing to the finish line to make it to the playoffs.

I’m to blame for the loss.

I still have no idea what came over me. Like Penny said, we’re not dating, I have no claim over her, yet today I acted like a jealous boyfriend, a title I’ve never worn in my entire life.

Staring down at my phone, I text Pacey back.

Eli: You don’t want to know.

The only bright side of this entire night is that Pacey actually looked at me after the fight. In the locker room, he gave me an appreciative nod. And right now, he’s texting me. It might not be what I want to discuss, but it’s an open door that I’ll take.

Pacey: If I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked.

Fair enough.

Eli: He was goading me about Penny, and then right before I clocked him, he talked about her tits.

Pacey: I’m going to fucking murder him.

Eli: Easy, killer. Wait until after the season. I shouldn’t have reacted tonight. He cost us the win.

Pacey: No one talks about Penny like that and gets away with it. You did the right thing. Thank you.

And just like that, as I stare down at the text from Pacey, the weight that I’ve been carrying around for the past few weeks over my broken relationship with one of my best friends slides off my shoulders. In the heat of the moment, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences of sleeping with his sister, and even after, I didn’t think much of it because neither of us was going to say anything. But it’s been painful not having him to talk to since he found out. Not hanging out with him. Basically living in a Pacey-induced exile. I can only hope that things will change now. Or at least start to change.

Eli: You may not believe it, but I do care about her, dude.

Pacey: In what way?

Eli: Just as a friend.

I text him quickly back so I can clarify my intention. I feel like I might be on the verge of patching things up with him. The last thing I need is to spoil that.

Pacey: Good. She needs someone reliable in her life, not a hockey player who is in and out every week.

Someone reliable? Did I not just get penalized for ten minutes today because I stood up for his sister? Have I not been living with her for a few weeks, making sure she’s okay? And I haven’t said a goddamn thing about it because it’s my responsibility. That seems pretty reliable to me.

Eli: I’m taking care of her.

Pacey: And I appreciate that. But you and I both know you’re not the settling down type and that she needs someone who will treat her like she’s the center of their world.

I mull that over, as it doesn’t sit well with me. He’s not wrong. Penny does deserve someone who will make her the center of his world. And sure, we’ve said time and time again, we’re friends, that’s all we’ll ever be, and we both don’t want to get involved romantically. But given all of that, I don’t like someone telling me I’m not good enough. That is shitty. That doesn’t feel good.

And maybe, I’m not. Maybe in the grand scheme of things, he’s right. I very well might not be good enough for her. I might be good for her now, given the situation, but . . . would I be good for her later?

My phone buzzes in my hand again.

Pacey: You two aren’t meant for each other. Learn how to co-parent now because that’s all it will ever be.

Okay, yes, that’s all I want. We both want that. We don’t want to start anything serious. But in the back of my mind, I can’t help but be consumed by the insult that rattles through my prideful chest.

Eli: Don’t worry, there’s nothing romantic going on. She’s the mother of my child. That’s it.

His response is nearly immediate.

Pacey: And that’s what it should always be. Respect me and my wishes that much.

Irritated, I shove my phone in my pocket, grab my bag, and head up to Penny’s apartment. Just from the outside, I can see that her lights are off. Not sure if she’s tired or just ignoring me, but there’s only one way to find out.

I make my way up the stairs, and when I reach the front door, I unlock it and slowly let myself in, trying not to make too much noise in case she’s asleep.

The apartment is pitch-black, but when I turn on the entryway light, I’m greeted by a pillow and blanket neatly folded on the living room couch.

Hmm, wonder where I’ll be sleeping tonight?

Fucking great. I can’t help recall the words I said to Penny earlier today.

“The way you act on the ice is a direct depiction of who you are as a man.” And then she saw me go apeshit on her friend.

Yeah, I’m fucked.

I set my bag down in the entryway and move to the couch, where I toss the pillow to the end and then unfold the blanket haphazardly. When my “bed” is set up, I head toward the bedroom so I can use the bathroom. That’s when I see a sliver of light under the door.

She’s awake.

Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I make my way to the bedroom door and slowly turn the handle, wincing the entire time and hoping that it isn’t locked. When I realize it’s not, I push open the door only slightly and poke my head in. I see her lying in bed. The nightstand light is on, and she’s reading a book.

I push the door farther open and take a step inside.

“Hey,” I say while removing my jacket.

Her eyes don’t leave her book as she says, “Did you see the blanket and pillow?”

“Yup, got your suggestion loud and clear. Just need to brush my teeth and change, and I’ll be out of your way.” I walk toward the closet and strip down to my briefs which are fresh from my shower. I slip on a pair of shorts and then make my way to the bathroom. I catch her eyes on me for a moment, so I pause and say, “For what it’s worth, he said some stupid shit about you. That’s why I punched him.”

“I don’t care what he said,” she fires back. “Do you really think I want our child seeing that?”

I’m about to enter the bathroom, but I stop and turn toward her. “You realize I play hockey, and that’s what we do. Your brother was part of the fight too.”

“And he knows how unhappy I am. I don’t want this baby coming into the world thinking it’s okay to punch someone whenever they feel like it. How do you think I’d explain that if our son or daughter saw it? Oh, it’s just hockey, no big deal.”

“He was talking about your tits,” I say. “What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Ignore him,” she shouts at me. “That’s what Gasper does. He’s an instigator. He was trying to get you riled up, he succeeded, and they ended up winning the game because you lost control of your temper.”

“Because of what he said about you. Don’t I get any credit for being valiant?”

“I don’t need a white knight, Eli. I need someone I can depend on.”

“And clearly, just like your brother, you don’t think I can be that person.”

“Not after what I saw tonight. Seriously, you let him get under your skin, and you have a loss and a fat lip to show for it.” She slow claps. “Wow, great job, Eli.”

“Well . . . maybe if you didn’t throw up in my shoe, none of this would have happened,” I counter back because I’m the biggest moron on the face of the earth.

She sits up now. “You’re really going to blame my morning sickness on this? Is that the road you want to take?”

I scrub my hand over my face. “No, that’s not what I want to do. But . . . hell, Penny, he acted like you two have fucked in the past, and I didn’t like the way he was talking about it.”

She stands and closes the space between us so she’s only a few inches from me. She’s wearing a silk shirt that clings to her hardened nipples, and the shorts she’s paired them with match exactly with a lace trim at the hem. And she smells fresh, good, like she just got out of the shower. Combine that all with the fiery spirit igniting through her eyes, and I feel that yearning for her all over again, that burning desire that’s never stopped since my birthday.

“First of all, Remi and I have never done anything like that, ever. Second, it shouldn’t matter if we have because we’re not on that level. You and I are just trying to co-exist with this child. And thirdly, you are not in charge of me, nor are you in charge of defending me. I can hold my own, I don’t need you stepping in.”

“So I should have just let him say shit about you? Is that what you want?”

“I want you to realize that what you did was reckless, and something could have happened to you. And then what do I do? How do I explain that to a child who might be watching you on TV? How do I tell them that kind of behavior is unacceptable, yet Daddy can do it? I can’t.” She pokes me in the chest. “So that means you need to get your shit together.”

“You act like I fight all the goddamn time.”

“Once is enough to know you can’t be doing that anymore.”

“It’s part of the game, Penny,” I bemoan.

“It was a personal attack, and you know it. The puck hadn’t even dropped. You were just waiting for him to say something to justify your reaction.”

“Are you really defending him?” I ask.

“You’re impossible,” she says while attempting to walk past me, but I snag her by the waist, keeping her close. Her hair brushes over my bare shoulder, like silky strands enticing me. I push her hair behind her ear slowly, and I lower my head so I’m speaking close to her ear.

“I wasn’t putting up with shit that came out of his mouth about you, and I’m going to tell you right now, I won’t be putting up with it in the future. No one speaks about you like that, even if you’re just my friend. Got it?”

Her breath catches as her eyes travel up to mine. Intense, locked. They stay on mine for a second, then two, then three. I watch as she swallows carefully, her breath vibrating against my hand just as she looks away. Without a word, she slips into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.

Looks like I’ll be waiting to brush my teeth.