3. August

CHAPTER THREE

AUGUST

" C ome on asshats! Shoot the fuckers like you mean it!"

"Yikes, Barrett," Griffin says with a quick smirk. "Are we really deciding to start the preseason with last season's stick still up your ass?" Griffin circles the net and comes up on Barrett's left, shooting the puck toward the net, but Bear blocks it with ease.

"Stick feels pretty good up there." He grunts and gestures to Griffin's hockey stick. "You'll see what I'm talking about if you don't learn to shoot harder and faster the next time you try to sneak around the net. You're too predictable."

Griffin flips him off as he skates toward me, but I'm hyper focused on pulling one over on our grumpy goalie.

"Slide it in pretty boy," Harrison says, standing not far from me. "I'll distract him for you."

I smile at myself as Harrison skates toward Barrett, weaving around our teammates and shuffling a puck down the ice with his stick. As he circles around the net, I prepare for my shot, passing another practice puck back and forth between Oliver and myself as I change positions on the ice. Edging closer to the net, Barrett is focused on Harrison's position, so I take my shot, forcefully hitting the puck toward him at the same time as Harrison. I watch in awe as Barrett lowers into a split, successfully blocking Harrison's shot with his left thigh and my shot with his stick.

"Dammit," I groan with irritation.

I really thought I had that.

Barrett lifts his goalie mask so he can wink at the both of us. "Nice try fuckers. Better luck next time."

If there's one thing I can say about Barrett, "The Bear", Cunningham, he's a true beast when he's out on the ice. Best goalie in the league by a mile.

"Anyone see that article about the hotshot kid, Bodhi Roche?" Ledger asks as several of us step into the shower after practice.

"Read it last night," I answer. "He's got some great stats, that's for sure."

Griffin scoffs. "I hear he's a little diva dick though."

Oliver scowls. "Where did you hear that?"

"Social media," Griffin explains. "Sports news won't report that kind of shit but leave it to social media to hear what a few people who have played with him think."

"Oh yeah!" Ledger nods. "Like that one guy. The dude who got hurt several years ago during his rookie year and can't play anymore. What was his name?"

"Jeff Furbling," I mumble.

"Yes!" Ledger points at me. "Jeff Furbling! I swear I saw a social media post where that guy was complaining about Bodhi's stats. He rambles on and on about how much better he was than this kid."

"Guess we'll never know though, will we?" Griffin shrugs as he lathers shampoo between his hands. "Dumbass went and got himself injured before he could really make something of himself."

Jeff is right though.

He was better.

In his day.

Before he got hurt.

Before I knocked him into the wall during a game that shattered his knee and fractured three vertebrae in his neck.

We were friends once, Jeff and me. Well, friendly rivals, anyway. Both graduated from the same high school and then attended rival colleges. We knew each other very well and it helped both of us when we faced off on the ice. I knew his strengths and weaknesses like the back of my hand. I knew his directional pivots were never fast but the guy had eagle eye vision when it came to shooting the puck from anywhere on the ice. Fuck, if I didn't use that knowledge to my benefit anytime I could. He boasted his scoring stats all the time, but the fucker never pushed himself to be faster on his feet. I always equated him to the kicker on a football team. He was good for one thing only and that was shooting the puck, but he would never win a race skating down the ice. I knew I would always be able to kick his ass when the time came. We played against each other numerous times early on in our hockey days, but I'll never forget that game in the first year of our pro hockey career.

The game that ended his before the end of the second period.

All because of me.

But none of these guys know I was the one who checked Jeff into the wall. It happened before I was traded to Anaheim and at the time neither of us was a big enough name for the story to take off. Lucky for me, I guess, but that doesn't mean I don't feel bad for ending another player's career. It was an accident nobody saw coming. I mean yeah, I wanted to check the son of a bitch and show him who was boss, but I didn't plan for a pile up to occur just before bashed him back into the wall. That hit caused parts of his body to literally snap.

That wasn't my plan at all, but it happened all the same.

He's blamed me for it for years, I know.

He bashes me on social media every now and then, but I've learned to tune him out. He's angry. I get it, but accidents happen. I felt bad then, but I've made my peace and moved on.

"Well, if Jeff Furbling is right about Bodhi Roche, it'll be interesting to see where he ends up after the draft next year."

Ledger laughs. "Let's hope he goes to Chicago. Let the Red Tails deal with the prick," right Oliver?"

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll check his tiny penis sized ego at the door if he ends up in Chicago," Oliver says with a chuckle. "Landric might end up putting a fist through the kid's face like he did to McClacken."

I narrow my eyes. "Wasn't Landric just protecting your sister when he attacked McClacken?"

"In that instance, yes, and I have no doubt the fucker deserved every punch Milo threw at him. Also, Milo didn't know she was my sister at the time, so to him, he was just protecting his girl. Landric is a great guy. He was definitely worthy of marrying my sister after that night, though if you ask me, he was worthy of her the very first night he took her in, but that's a whole other story. He keeps Charlee happy so I'm not complaining one bit. But he has no patience for egos when it comes to being on the ice. He's a team player through and through."

"Hey, speaking of girls," Griffin mentions before turning off his water and grabbing a towel. "What's the status on your non-girlfriend girl…friend? She coming for that interview?"

"Actually yeah." I nod, finishing with my shower and also reaching for my towel. "Her stuff was delivered to my place two days ago and I'm picking her up from the airport this afternoon."

"Wait…her stuff?" Ledger asks from a few shower stalls down. "What does that mean?"

"Her stuff. You know, her belongings."

"Oh, so she found a place to live and everything? That's awesome. Which area did she decide on?"

"Uh, she didn't, actually. She's moving in with me."

Silence falls over everyone in the room. The only sound is that of the few showers still running but one by one, the water is turned off and a towel is grabbed. Griffin is staring at me as if I just told a joke and he doesn't understand the punch line. Harrison comes out from his shower stall, wrapping his towel around his waist.

"Did you just say she's moving in with you?"

"Yeah."

"OKAY, HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE!" Ledger shouts from the shower, still drying off. "Blackstone is skipping the fuck-around-and-find-out and going right for the move-in-with me?" He jumps out of his shower stall staring at me like I'm an alien as he steps toward Griffin, whose head is cocked to the side as he eyes me mysteriously. "Who is this guy and what has he done with August Blackstone?"

"That's what I want to know," Griffin mumbles back to him.

"Alright, alright, this isn't that big of a deal guys." I toss on a pair of shorts and grab my t-shirt from my locker.

A towel wrapped around his waist and still dripping from the shower, Ledger crosses his arms over his chest. "Uh…I beg to differ. Moving in with a woman is kind of a huge deal."

"So, you guys really are a thing, then?" Griffin asks with a twinge of unhappiness in his voice. He almost seems disappointed, as if I've been keeping a secret from him. Like I would keep a secret like that from my best friend.

"Hell no." I shake my head with a scowl. "I told you, we're not a thing. We've never been a thing. We're not going to be a thing."

On the other side of the room Barrett lets out a laugh but says nothing. He lets his towel drop to the floor, his bare ass on display for the rest of us. Not that this is anything new.

"What's so funny, Cunningham?"

"You are, Blackstone," he says, pulling on his boxer briefs. "Not a thing, never been a thing, never going to be a thing? I call bullshit. If that girl moves in with you, you'll have your dick inside her before the end of preseason."

Fury almost chokes me as I march across the room, my fists clenched at my sides. I step up against Barrett's huge frame. By all means I should be intimidated as fuck at the sheer size of him. He stands at least a head taller than me and probably has a solid fifty pounds on me, but I don't give two shits how big of a man he is. I'll be damned if I stand here and allow someone to talk about Ella that way.

"Say that again to my face cunt -ingham." I pin him with a cold stare but he remains unfazed. The corner of his mouth turns up and he calmly takes a breath before he opens his mouth again.

"I said, you'll have your?—"

"Oookay." Griffin steps in between us, pushing me away while patting Barrett's chest lightly. "I think we heard what you said the first time, big Bear, but thanks for offering to remind us again."

Not really wanting to sport a black eye on the day my best friend is finally coming to town, I step back over to my locker and continue getting dressed, only to hear Barrett mumble, "Am I wrong?"

I turn toward the rest of the team, eyeing each one as they look between Barrett and me. My jaw drops and I shake my head. "Well, don't all speak at once."

"Yeah," Ledger speaks slowly like he's unsure of what he's saying. "No, you're very…uh…wrong, Bear. Very wrong indeed."

Harrison leans over and whispers loudly, "Dude that was so not convincing."

Ledger shrugs. "I know, but what was I supposed to say?"

"Wait," I speak up. "So, you all agree with Bear? You think I'm going to fuck my best friend? Simply because she has a pussy and will be living in my house?"

It's quiet in the room for a long awkward minute before anyone answers. Finally, Oliver asks, "Have you ever lived with a woman?"

"No."

"Ever even had one in your house?"

"You know I haven't. My house is my safe space. It's not for random hookups."

"And how long have you known her?"

"What does that even matter? She's my childhood best friend, assholes. We grew the fuck up together. I know what kind of tampons she used in high school. I know what she sounds like when she's hungover puking in the middle of the night or early in the morning. I know she likes her coffee with way too much sugar and way too much cream. I know who her favorite celebrity crush was when she was ten. I know she used to smash up her peas and spread it over toast when she was in first grade because she thought it was good and because it made her giggle to tell people she peed on her toast. I was the one she ran to when her parents would come down hard on her for stupid reasons like she didn't clean her room or she got a B on a test. I was with her to see her first rated R movie. You know what it was? We're the Millers ! I know she stuffs her face with cinnamon rolls when she's nervous, and I know she gets nervous all the time over stupid shit because her parents made her that way. And I've watched her pop more pimples in our high school days than I ever want or need to see in my lifetime, because we are friends. The best of friends. We know everything about each other and we have since we could walk. Why do you all find it so hard to understand that a man and a woman are very capable of sharing a living space without fucking?"

Griffin nods and then steps over to me, capping my shoulder with his hand. "I'm with you, August. If you say you're not fucking, you're not fucking."

"Thank you." I inhale a deep calming breath and release it in a heavy sigh.

"But does that mean we could fuck her?"

My head spins faster than Linda Blair in the Exorcist , but the moment my eyes meet Griffin's he points at me and winks. "Got ya."

I flip him off and grab my baseball cap, slipping it backwards on my head. "Asshat. Get out of here."

"So, when is she coming?" Ledger asks. "And what's her name again?"

"Her name is Ella and I'm picking her up in…" I check the time on my phone. "One hour."

"Better get moving then." He gestures to the door with his chin. "Airport traffic is a bitch."

I say goodbye to the guys, grab my keys, and head out the door. No sooner does the locker room door close behind me than I hear one of them say, "They're totally going to fuck."

The rest of the guys agree and they have a good laugh at my expense. For a moment I consider walking back in there and raising hell, but instead I take a deep breath and keep walking down the hall with an annoyed shake of my head and roll of my eyes. Once I'm out of the building and in my car, all anger dissipates from my body, replaced only by genuine excitement. I get to see my best friend for the first time in over two years and I couldn't be happier.

I make it into the airport just in time to see her plane has landed so I head to the escalator where I know she'll have to come down to baggage claim. Less than ten minutes later, I'm watching her on the escalator chatting with some guy. Something inside my chest flips, causing me to stand up a little straighter, puff my own chest out a little more.

Who the hell is that guy?

She smiles at him and although it's pissing me off that he's smiling back at her, just taking a minute to look at her from afar when she doesn't know I'm here is good because holy shit.

She's gorgeous.

I mean I've always known she was pretty, but wow. The years have…wow, we're not kids anymore. I suppose after only seeing her face for the past two years when we chat, I shouldn't be surprised seeing the rest of her. I think I allowed myself to forget just how beautiful she is.

Damn…

Her chestnut-colored hair that she always used to wear in a ponytail is now in soft ringlets and dusting just past her shoulders. She wrinkles her dainty nose before scratching the top with a finger. Ella was never the tall and stick-thin type of girl. She always had curves. I spent many nights sitting on her bed while she paraded out from the bathroom in one outfit and then another only to ask me if I thought her hips looked too wide or her boobs too big.

The answer was always no because to me she was Ella.

She was perfect.

But now those very same curves have me unable to look away from her. And if I'm struggling to look away, I know exactly why that asshole won't leave her alone. She's dressed in a pair of black leggings that hug her body perfectly and a white crop top that shows off her fit body. The zippered sweatshirt jacket she's wearing over top looks familiar. I cock my head, studying it, and realize it's not just any sweatshirt, so I quickly pull my phone from my pocket and type out a text as quickly as I can.

Me

Is that my college hockey sweatshirt?

I know the moment she gets my text because her head snaps up and she looks around, but still doesn't see me. Stepping away from the column I was leaning on, I turn my hat around backwards so she can see my face, making myself more visible. When she finally spots me, the way her eyes light up with excitement and her smile broadens across her face calms all my anxiety about the guy next to her, who she immediately ignores. Finally seeing her in person after all this time brings back every single fucking feeling…every single memory I have ever had with Ella Montgomery.

She's here.

I can't believe it.

She's fucking here.

And now I'm home.