Page 105 of Pucking Strong

I can’t take the silence for another second. “What did you mean when you said you’re broken?”

Henrik sighs, flexing his hands on the wheel. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s just how I feel. It’s how I’ve always felt.”

“But, like, broken how? Like, does it all work down there?”

“Teddy …”

I throw up both hands. “Hey, it’s totally fine if it doesn’t. Plenty of men struggle to get and stay erect. And there’s a lot you can do to try to address it, from homeopathic remedies to over-the-counter stuff—”

“I can get an erection,” he says over me.

“Okay.”

“That’s not the problem. Physically, it all works.”

“So then whatisthe problem?”

His eyes stay locked on the road as he takes one of the last turns before we’ll be back at the apartment. “It’s my head.”

“Your head is broken?”

“I don’t know. My head … or my heart. Perhaps it’s my spirit. A combination therein. All I know is that I’ve always felt that sex was something I was meant to want. It’s something all men want, right?”

“Well, no. Not particularly.” I glance his way, taking in his face in profile under the passing streetlights. He looks confused and frustrated, brow furrowed, hands clenched on the steering wheel. “Walk me through it. You say you feel like you’re supposed to want sex. Why do you feel that way?”

He shrugs. “Look at my life. Look at what I do. Look at the men who surround me.”

“You think because you’re a professional athlete, you’re supposed to be having lots of sex? Why, because your teammates are doing it?”

“All my life, I’ve watched as men around me have chased after women. I’ve heard the stories of their conquests in the locker room. I’ve caught countless roommates in shared hotel rooms bouncing a naked girl in their lap. I’ve been to the after-parties and the clubs. I’ve seen the open hedonism firsthand.”

“Yeah … but, Henrik, most of that behavior is toxic as fuck. It’s rooted in the misogyny and sexual exploitation of women that plagues the NHL. Sex scandals and payoffs, messy players getting their hookups pregnant, then marrying them, then divorcing them. Wash, rinse, repeat. Honestly, that you’re not a part of that culture is a fucking relief. Do you wanna be like those assholes?”

“Not all of the players are like that,” he assures me. “I’ve skated with plenty of good men. Family men, loyal to their partners. And even they all seemed to justneedsex. I’ve seen teammates twitching with eagerness to get off the plane. It’s like they ache with it, like the act of sex is somehow as essential as food and water.”

“For some people, it is.”

Henrik just hums, pulling the car into the garage under the apartment building. “Well, it’s not for me.”

“Can I ask … well, have you ever had sex before?”

He parks the car in his assigned spot and cuts the engine. We sit there in silence. “Yes,” he finally admits.

“More than once?”

“Yes.”

“With more than one person? Not, like, at a time,” I quickly correct. “I mean that you’ve tried having sex with different people. Or maybe itwasat the same time, who am I to judge?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Yes, Teddy. I’ve had sex with more than one person. And no, it wasn’t at the same time.”

“And was this in relationships? Or just random hookups?”

“What does that matter?”

“Trust me, it totally matters. And I’ll not judge you either way for your answer. I’m just trying to understand. Did you know the people you had sex with? Were they, like, your girlfriends?”

He considers for a moment. I brace myself to hear him admit to having past fiancées. Petty Teddy is not above some light internet stalking. I swear to god, if she looks anything like Hanna, I’m gonna walk into the ocean.

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