Page 122 of For the Boys
“I would love to. But I have things I need to do or I’ll lose my job.”
She snorted. “No you won’t.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “I won’t. But still. We can’t stay here all day. Unless you want the entire world to know that Brent Jean skipped the All-Star Game to spend all day in bed with his super hot girlfriend.”
“Fine, fine,” she said, rolling over. “You go shower and I’ll order food.”
“Or,” he said, rolling with her to cup her bare breast and give the tip a quick flick with his tongue, “you could join me.”
She hummed softly. “Deal.” She jumped up, running for the bathroom.
He smiled and chased after her.
The lobby was a madhouse, packed wall to wall with fans waiting to get into the banquet hall for the press conference and subsequent autograph signing happening prior to the All-Star Game that afternoon.
Brent sat through the press conference, barely remembering to answer when his name was called, mind elsewhere. He couldn’t stop himself from imagining Berkley in his bed, his hands sweeping across her soft skin, her nails digging into his back as he slammed his hips…
“Hi, Mr. Jean!” A little girl with pigtails and freckles stood in front of him. “Can I get your autograph?”
He shook his head to clear the image of naked Berkley and said, “Sure thing. Who am I making it out to?”
“My name is Madeline,” she said proudly. “And I’m seven.”
“Seven? Wow,” Brent said. “You’re really old!”
She giggled. “No I’m not! My mom is though.”
The woman in question, who was standing right behind her daughter, turned red. “I’m only forty,” she said.
“You don’t look a day over thirty,” Brent said with a wink. The woman blushed harder and pulled her daughter along.
And so it went for the next hour or so before someone finally called it quits and sent Brent and his Eastern Conference teammates on their way.
“So where’s your girlfriend, Jean?”
Brent whirled toward Bobal. “Stop talking about her,” he said, stepping closer. With the rage Bobal incited, the two inches Brent had on him may as well have been two feet. “Forget her name. Forget my name for that matter. Leave us alone or so help me God I’ll beat your face in again.”
Bobal laughed. “Careful, Jean. This room is full of media. Wouldn’t want our resident golden boy to be branded as a bad boy, especially not since you’re just getting that cute little activewear company of yours off the ground.”
“Get away from me, Bobal.”
“See you soon, Jean,” Bobal said as he walked away. “Or did you forget we’re on the same team for this game later?”
Fuck, Brent thought.I really hate that guy.
Having to play on the same team as Bobal, while definitely not Brent’s idea of a good time, proved not to be as bad as he’d been expecting. Brent was a forward, Bobal a defenseman, and they were only on the ice together for a few shifts the entire time.
Unlike Major League Baseball, the National Hockey League All-Star Game didn’t count for anything. It was simply a fun way for fans to see the league’s best on the ice together. Brent’s Eastern Conference team won the game, earning them bragging rights for the entire next year. And hopefully it would be that long before Brent had to see Josef Bobal again.
Valentine’s Day fell the day after they returned to Detroit from Vegas. After telling Berkley he loved her, Brent wanted to make it special. He wanted to make every day special for Berkley, but Valentine’s Day was a holiday totally devoted to love.
Brent planned accordingly.
He had always considered himself a bit of a romantic. Despite having been a college athlete living on an allowance while at Michigan State, he had always found fun and inexpensive ways to make date nights magical for Ashley. He would set up picnics in the field next to Munn Arena. He loved to cook and had frequently spent evenings in his apartment testing out new recipes on her as they sipped wine and talked about the future. Those were the early days, the good ones, before she’d become the hollow, vapid version of herself, completely different from the girl he’d fallen for.
After Ashley, Brent didn’t do emotional relationships. He was strictly invested in the physical sort, providing a good meal, some wine, and only enough conversation to seal the deal before moving on to the next one. He wasn’t proud of the man he had been.
All of that had changed with Berkley.
