“Just a few.”
“Here? In my bed?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But I cleaned up afterward.”
The Keurig gargled behind me indicating my coffee was almost made. “Just go,” I hissed and turned around to get my coffee.
“Baby—”
I snapped. “Nothing you will say will ever make this situation okay, Bridgette. It’s over. Get the fuck out!”
I went to the fridge to grab the creamer as she slid off the barstool. “You know I was only with you so I could meet hockey players. Right?”
I rose from the fridge. “I thought you hated sports?”
Bridgette smirked. “I do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get with any. Do you know how much money they make?”
I did.
“Have fun meeting them now.” I slammed the door of the fridge. “Take care, Bridge, and leave your fucking key on the island.”
There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to make this day any better.
The following Friday, the Hawks had a game against the Nashville Predators. I hadn’t heard anything from Bridgette again, and I hadn’t heard anything from Ashtyn other than the morning after we met. Granted it was just a text, but at least I had her number now. I spent all of my time at work, going over stats for upcoming games, not wanting to go home to an empty condo. If I knew Ashtyn’s condo number, I’d go over there. I was sure I could figure it out, maybe even text her for it, but I wasn’t going to chase after her. She was going through shit too, and time would tell what was meant to happen.
A few nights during the week, I’d caught her broadcast and each time talked myself out of contacting her. I told her to use me, not the other way around. If she didn’t want to get together, then I was sure there was someone else for me. That didn’t stop me from thinking about her at night while I jerked off.
“News is on in the break room,” Kenny informed me, sliding into his desk chair that was in the cubicle across from me. He was shorter than me by a few inches, had shaggy brown hair and brown eyes. Kenny had been my best friend since the moment we’d both started at the station, and he was like my right hand man.
“And?”
“Your girl’s lookin’ hot tonight.”
“My girl?” I eyed him curiously.
“Ashtyn Valor.”
A smile spread on my face. “She’s not my girl.”
“Everyone’s seen the picture, and you told me it was the night you caught Bridgette cheating. It adds up.”
I threw my pen down on the pad of paper and leaned back, turning my head to look at him. “There’s nothing to add up. I haven’t talked to her since that night.”
“But you want to,” he pressed, smirking.
“What are we, in high school?”
Kenny chuckled. “All I’m sayin’ is that if I had the number for Ashtyn Valor, I’d be all over that—and under that.”
“And this is why you’re single.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You think she’d give you the time of day if she heard you talk like that?”
“I wouldn’t know.Youwould know,” he emphasized and leaned forward. His dark brown eyes brightened as though he was amused and wanted to know more.
“I’ve been busy,” I lied. I was working as much as possible, but I did it for an escape.