Page 87 of O Goalie Night
Ben Michaels is how I got here. He walked into the living room of my life, made himself comfortable, and never left. Not only has he been the best friend I’ve ever had, but he also brought Beth into my life.
And as miserable as I am in this very moment, and I’m really fucking miserable, I know I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
This club is everything I hate. The shitty music is too loud and there are not enough places to sit, so people are forced to stand around as they pretend to want to be here.
We were identified as hockey players almost immediately. It’s hard to say if anyone recognized us outright or just saw four big guys walk in and put two and two together.
I’m sure the shiner Will’s sporting thanks to a hit earlier this week didn’t help.
I’ve been keeping an eye on Ben since we got here. He’s spent the last ten minutes on a stool at the bar. A pretty blonde stands between his legs, her hands resting on his forearms. Part of me wishes he’d just take her back to the hotel already so I can get the hell out of here.
The other guys seem to be just fine. Will is doing what he does best; making friends. He’s talking to a large group that managed to acquire seats and appears to be reenacting how he got his black eye. The guy has more personality than he knows what to do with and people always gravitate to him.
Austin is surrounded by three women at a nearby pool table. I’m not sure if he plans to leave with all of them, but, to be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me. He’s done it before. It’s like he’s got something to prove, chasing women with the same relentless energy he brings to the ice every game.
Suddenly, Ben appears in front of me, alone. God, he looks like shit. Bloodshot, glassy eyes with dark circles underneath.
“Hey,” he says, his voice raw from whatever he’s been drinking. “You ready to go?”
Since the moment I walked in the joint.
“Definitely.”
“Great. Got a surprise for you.” His words slur, just enough for me to notice.
“I don’t think I can handle any more of your surprises tonight, thanks.”
He grins. “You’ll like this one. Kristen has a friend.” He nods at two women at the bar. One is the blonde he’sbeen talking to, the other a petite redhead. They’re both smiling at me.
Ah, fuck no.
I blink at him. “Not interested.”
“C’mon, man. She’s cute.”
I don’t care if she’s Helen of fucking Troy; she’s not Beth.
“It’s not going to happen, Ben.”
“What’s not going to happen?” Austin joins in, throwing an arm around each of us.
Ben ignores him. “Just take her back to your room. You don’t have to fuck her. Kirsten doesn’t want to leave her here by herself.”
“I thought you said her name was Kristen.”
“It doesn’t matter what her name is. Can we just go?”
This selfish son-of-a-bitch. “No. I am not taking some random woman back to my hotel room, Ben. Not fucking happening.”
“I’ll take her,” Austin volunteers. “Wait, who are we talking about?”
“No one was fucking talking to you, Austin.” Ben shoves him away.
“What the fuck, man?” Austin seethes.
I’ve had enough. Enough of Ben, enough of Austin, and everyone else here. I push off the wall to leave, but Ben blocks me.
“I’m going back to the hotel, Ben. Alone.”
