Page 15 of Gross Misconduct

“The one for the building at the end of Maple.”

“That’smyrooftop,” he interjects. “I better not find any used condoms or else I’m evicting you.”

“You won’t. He’s the only guy I’ve brought up there.”

“Oh.” Fuentes’s voice has a very curious tone to it. “Jack’s in love.”

“I’m not in love. Fuck off. It was a nice night out. I wanted to seal the deal.”

“You’ve sealed the deal with plenty of guys. You never brought any of them to the special rooftop.”

“It’s not special.”

“That’s what you called it. I’m just using your words. You said it was your favorite place to think, that the view always cheered you up.”

I shut off the shower, my jaw tight. I can’t believe I took Griffin to my rooftop where he made me feel feelings then rejected me. “Hand me a towel.”

Fuentes grabs the one hanging off the back of the door and tosses it my way.

“Sounds like you’re into him,” he says.

“Well, he wasn’t into me.”

“And there were no signs that maybe he didn’t want to hook up? Maybe you missed them?”

“I wouldn’t have missed a red flag like that. He was the one who held my hand. He kissedme. On my special rooftop.” I rub myself dry. I toss Fuentes my towel. He hangs it back up while I give myself a rushed toothbrushing.

“Damn, that’s cold.” Fuentes shakes his head. “Fuck him, right?”

“Right. Why do I keep forcing myself to learn this lesson? People can turn on a dime. They care about you until they don’t.” I wash out my mouth and storm into the main room. I grab clothes from the overstuffed dresser that barely fits along the wall. It’s one of the few remaining items from my old, pro-athlete life, and I didn’t want to part with it.

Fuck Griffin. He cracked open a door within me that had been nailed shut years ago. I was off my game and nearly let him in. He got me talking about things that I never wanted to talk about, like my dad. Thank goodness I didn’t share anything about my mom. Last night was amazing and incredible and never should’ve happened but it did…and then he pushed me away.

“Fuck. Him.” I slam the dresser drawers shut. I turn to Fuentes for a style check. The man wears a T-shirt and jeans every day since he’s his own boss. I get to as well, but I also have to wear a purple apron, which kills any kind of power vibe.

Fuentes gives me a thumbs up and tosses me the apron, bunched up at the foot of the pullout couch.

“You seem pissed. You know a good place to take out that aggression? The hockey rink.” He takes a flyer from his pocket and hands it over.

The bold letters at the top scream Hudson Valley Adult Hockey League. That was all I needed to read to know I wasn’t interested.

“I can see your eyes glazing over,” Fuentes says, opening the front door. We shuttle out and hustle down the stairs. “It’s a fun, recreational league for guys who used to play hockey. Miller and I formed a team. We want you on it.”

“I haven’t played hockey since I left the NHL.” I scurry down another staircase, Fuentes right behind me.

“That was only two years ago. You’re still sharp. Hell, I hear there’re guys who haven’t played in decades who are suiting up.”

I laugh at the idea of playing middle-aged dads.

“It’s one game per week on Sunday mornings. Not like you’re going to church.” Fuentes unlocks his car, a brand-new, gleaming black truck. He claims he needs the space to haul supplies for maintenance. I think he just wanted a big fucking truck. “Don’t you miss playing?”

It was the same question Griffin asked me last night. Again, I freeze up in response.

“Those days are behind me.”

“It’d be so baller to have a former pro hockey player on our team.”

“Having me on there isn’t the flex you think it is,” I say. I shove the flyer in my pocket before buckling up. “I’ll think about it. Now drive like the wind.”

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