Page 9 of Off the Stick
“Are you going out with us tonight, Ax?”
I shrug noncommittally at Rossy’s question as we exit Vegas’s visiting team locker room.
Our preseason game against the Vanguards ended in a satisfying overtime win for us, with Lundy making the goal from my assist to save us from going into overtime.It was a fantastic shot, and most of the guys are eager to head to the Strip, where someone’s assistant has already reserved a private room for us at Club Aces.
Under normal circumstances, I’d have been more than happy to go celebrate.In fact, the last time we were in Vegas, Cale and I had a smokin’ hot threesome with a gorgeous and fun-loving showgirl named Katarina.We’ll see where the night goes from here, but thanks to Halle showing up in my life earlier this week, my mind has been on my past, not future hookups.
“Yeah, I’ll join you for a drink,” I reply, checking the time on my phone as we head to the team bus.“Just one, though.Plane leaves at 8 a.m.tomorrow, so I want to be back by midnight.”
Rossco throws a beefy arm over my shoulder.He smells of strong cologne and mint.
“Aww, come on, you old lady.We only have a practice tomorrow afternoon at home, which means we have allniiightto live it up in Vegas, baby!It’s going to be sick, bruh.”
“Mm-hmm.”
The idea of pulling an all-nighter tonight—especially after three nights in a row of interrupted sleep—doesn’t sound the least bit appealing.
I blame Halle MacAlister for those problems.It’s because of her I’ve been suffering from lack of sleep and a lack of interest in getting fucked up and busting a nut with a hot hookup.
All her fault.
My brain still reels over her appearance in Vancouver without any warning.She must’ve known I play for the Vikings, right?Why didn’t she ever contact me to tell me she was here?At the very least, to say, “Hey, Ax.I live in Vancouver now.Want to meet up?”
I guess I can understand why she wouldn’t.It’s been over five years since we last spoke.She could be married or in a serious relationship and maybe have no interest in seeing me again.
But the mere idea that she would never want to see me again sends a clawing sensation to my stomach, which clenches and churns like an angry sea in a storm.
There’ve been many times over the years when I’ve thought about her, dreamed about her, remembered that last night we had together before we parted ways on our way into adulthood.
At the time, we agreed to part on good terms, no drama, and go our separate ways.Halle’s logical explanation was that she didn’t want a long-distance relationship with a hockey player.
I get it.Honestly, I probably wasn’t mature enough to continue a relationship that stood the test of time across vast distances.It would’ve ended at some point—right?And probably badly, with resentment and broken hearts on both sides.
I’ve witnessed some of my closest friends and teammates go through gruesome, and nasty breakups and divorces due to complications that can come with a relationship that includes a professional hockey career.Halle and I agreed that we were both too young to make that type of commitment to each other.
But I still regret that we never gave it a try.We’d been great together and had an inexplicable pull I’d not ever felt before her.Unlike some other girls I met in juniors, Halle liked me for me, not because I was a hockey player.Yet, she loved the sport and completely geeked out over hockey stats.
Those four weeks I spent with Halle had been anything but puppy love.Our time together had been vivid, visceral, and it was a knife to my heart when it ended.It took me a while to deal with the fact I’d probably never see her again.
And then suddenly, five and a half years go by and… Boom.She’s alive and well and living here in Vancouver?
Seeing her again brought all those old feelings rushing to the surface and she’s been on my mind constantly.It’s honestly killing my sleep schedule because of how much she’s been appearing in my dreams.It’s a wonder I skated as well as I did tonight because I’m exhausted beyond belief.
Which is the reason I shouldn’t go out tonight.
Rossy, on the other hand, looks like he’s just downed two Red Bulls and snorted a line of coke.Although to be fair, this is his natural state.The dude is like a Labrador puppy, always bouncing like a kid on a trampoline.
Costa thumps my other shoulder with his palm.“I’m going with these idiots.We can skip out together.”
“Okay, fine.Let’s do it, bro,” I finally concede, mainly to get Rossco off my back.I turn to Costa and shrug with an eye roll.
Rossco lets out a hoot of excitement and jabs a fist in the air.“It’s gonna be lit, boys!We’re in Vegas, baby!”
* * *
16 HoursLater
“Get your asses moving, boys!Most of you look like you were dragged in from the back alley today!”Coach Thomas yells from the middle of the rink, where we’ve been doing speed drills the past twenty minutes.“This isn’t a free skate.We have Florida tomorrow night.No mercy or fucks will be given if you’re slagging.”
