Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens

Sixteen

Wolfe

The guys are killing it tonight against the Lions. I sit beside Coach as he plays the game of chess, moving players on and off the ice. Bozeman skates onto the ice along with Sutter. Two centers on at the same time at the top of the third period. I look at Coach, surprised, even though I know I shouldn’t second guess his decisions. The Lions have a player named Sukov in the penalty box so we get the power play advantage.

Bozeman plays center and drives the puck away, shooting straight for Cole. A player from the Lions swings around Cole and tries to stick handle the puck away from him, but Cole is a calculated player and he passes the puck off to Baynard who ends up with two players tailing him. Baynard evades them for enough time for Ryse to come around and get hold of the puck. Ryse shoots and, fuck yeah, the puck slides into the left corner of the net, just making it past their goalie’s attempt to stop it. I rise and cheer the guys on.

“Fuck yeah,” I shout. My blood is pumping hard. I want to be out there.

Coach throws his fist in the air. “That’s how it’s done,” he cheers. Then he gives me a look. “You want out there, bad.” It isn’t a question.

“I do,” I admit.

“Next game you’re on,” he says to me.

“Seriously? Thank you.” I grin. Damn, I feel like I can hug him.

“Just bring you’re A game,” he says.

“That’s the plan,” I say.

Cole switches off the ice and Dec goes on. The Lions are known for playing rough and sometimes act shady under the noses of the refs. There isn’t anything to do about it; it’s part of the game, and some players are just competitive assholes.

Baynard is also pulled from the ice and I smack him on the back. “Good play.”

I refocus on the ice where Dec gets hold of the puck and has two guys trailing him. One of them hip checks him into the boards but the ref doesn’t call a penalty. Dec loses the puck. The Lions carry the puck back to center ice when Thompson sweeps in and steals it. He sends it directly to Ryse. Ryse is tailed by a player named Miller from the other team. Miller is a beast of a guy. He’s huge and he’s also known for his dirty tricks. Shit, Ryse, don’t let him close in on you. Ryse shoots the puck toward Sutter, and Miller tails him from behind and knocks him down. The ref calls a penalty with only two minutes left in the game. The score is one-zero for us. The crowd boos, but I would expect nothing else. Miller is a crowd favorite, but with him out of the equation the guys have a better chance of winning this thing.

Ryse takes the penalty shot and I hold my breath. A goal now would give us a little breathing room. He misses the shot, but that’s okay. We’re still winning.

The guys continue to play. The Lions get the puck and fly across the ice. Dec stops a shot coming straight to our net before the goalie has to stop it. Nice save. Dec shoots the puck back across the ice and Baynard sweeps in, easily handling the pass, he shoots and…

Score.I fly out of my seat and cheer the guys on.

There’s only thirty seconds left in the game and Coach urges our players not to let their guard down.

My cell rings and my father’s name lights up the screen.

Dammit. What could he possibly have to say to me? I’m not in the mood to hear how he expected me to turn out differently. How I’m nothing that he wanted me to be. He calls three times straight. I let all the calls go to voicemail.

The rest of the game flies by and we win. Knowing that my father called me has me on edge. He hasn’t made contact in a long time and lately he’s been reaching out. My curiosity is high but not strong enough to make me call him back.

Some of the bunnies from Westfall came to cheer us on along with some of the parents of our players who live in the city. The guys head back to the locker room and I follow. My cell rings again and I itch to pick it up. My finger twitches over the answer button and I give in.

“Hello?”

“Wolfe.” Dad’s voice comes through the phone, sending a chill down my spine. Always so calm and collected.

“Yup. How can I help you?” I ask, unable to hide the hurt and anger that his voice evokes inside me.

“Don’t be like that,” he says.

“Don’t be how? You haven’t called me in two years. Are Mom and Cait okay?”

“They’re both fine.” He clears his throat. “Well, as fine as they can be. I don’t really know. I’m in Washington.”

“Well, if this isn’t about them, then I don’t think we really have anything to say to each other.” Nerves course through my body, infecting my insides. Me communicating with him doesn’t do me any good. I learned that a long time ago. Our relationship is toxic.

He stays quiet. “Fine,” he says and the line goes dead.

What did I expect? He has never been there for me and he never will.

I take a deep breath and enter the locker room. Coach Ramirez is giving his congratulatory speech to the team. With Christmas break only a few weeks away, I’m looking forward to getting as much ice time as possible.

I congratulate the guys.

“I’m going to head back to Westfall,” I say.

“Oh, come on,” Cole says. “Stay. The guys want to stop at a bar here in town and have a drink. We deserve it after that win.”

He’s right. They deserve to celebrate their victory. Plus, if I go, I can make sure they don’t get smashed, or at least I can try.

While the guys are getting ready, I head back out of the locker room and bump into Coach Cooper.

“Wolfe, you got a minute?” Coach Cooper asks.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Congratulations! I heard Ramirez is putting you back on for the next game.” He smiles.

“Thanks. I’m super stoked.”

“Good.” He nods. “Just in time for things to heat up on the ice,” he says. “I was talking with Ramirez, and if you give it your all, he thinks you have what it takes to draft this year.” His words throw me off. He stands there and waits for my reaction. Both my coaches know I never planned on hockey being my end game.

“Seriously?” I ask, because maybe I didn’t hear him right.

“We think that as captain, if the team makes it to the finals this year, you’ll stand a good chance. This is Baynard’s last year and we would hate to lose you next year, but this may be your chance,” he says. “Take some time and think about it. I know, no matter what, you’ll bring it on the ice. We play U Penn next. It’s going to be a tough game. They’re on a winning streak.”

Not that he needs reminding but… “So are we,” I say.

“Exactly.”

“Got it.” I nod my head in understanding.

Cole and Dec leave the locker room and wait off to the side. Coach Cooper tells me how he appreciates me still coming out to games and supporting the team.

We break off and I walk over to the guys.

“What was that about?” Cole asks.

“Nothing major,” I say. I don’t know why I don’t tell him the news. A part of me is ecstatic, but another part of me has a hard time walking away from proving my father wrong.

Cole nods and I head out with the guys to a bar called Black Market. A lot of the Boston U students hang out there and some Harvard ones too.

I drive, thinking I’ll only have one drink. Some of the guys come with me and others Uber it over.

When we arrive, the place is jam packed. A Bruins game plays on TV screens around the bar. The Bruins are playing the Red Wings. We take a seat at a long table that’s facing the television. The guys order beer and grub. I order a beer and decide on a steak instead of a burger. The meat is leaner and I haven’t been eating as well as I’d like to.

A group of chicks walk over to the table. They look like bunnies, but maybe not because I don’t see any of the Lions players here.

“You guys hockey players?” A gorgeous blonde with big tits leans over the table at the opposite end of where I’m sitting and asks Ryse.

He nods but words don’t exit his mouth.

“Yeah, we are,” Chad Baynard says, sure of himself.

The girl turns around and I’m not sure what happens, but she says something to her friends. The response is a bunch of loud squeals followed by them circling the table. A chick comes up to Dec. “So, who did you guys play tonight?”

“Yale,” he says. “We beat their asses two-zero.”

“So you must be really pumped up after the game,” she says to him. She’s a pretty girl with reddish hair, freckles, and intense green eyes. She isn’t my type, but she’s definitely rocking a hot body.

“I’m so pumped right now,” Dec agrees, dropping his eyes to her chest. He doesn’t try to mask his ogling and it only spurs the girl on.

“I’m Tisha,” she says to him.

“Declan McAvoy,” he says, extending his hand to her to shake it.

“Ooh. Is that Irish?” she asks.

“Yeah, my dad is Irish. Mom is Italian,” he tells her.

“Cool. I’m Irish on both sides,” she says.

He leans into her ear and whispers something and she giggles.

Truth is, I feel bored, but I have to wait for my food now.

Cole is beside me, chatting up some chick too. This happens to us a lot. We head out to games, go out to a sports bar after the game to eat and have a drink, and somehow the bunnies are always waiting.

A chick with rich dark hair comes up to me. Her skin is tanned and her eyes are dark and seductive. Her lips are devil red as she leans into me and says, “Hello, handsome.”

The whole scenario makes me nervous. I promised Rebel that if we fooled around that it would only be her. Truth is, I’m not even interested in this girl propositioning me. All I can think about is Rebel and her sweet smile. She doesn’t wear makeup, not that I would mind if she did—she’s beautiful either way—and her scent drives me wild. The girl is looking at me like she’s waiting for an answer. I don’t even know what she said.

“Sorry, what did you ask?” I say like an idiot. Not that I care. I don’t owe her anything.

“I asked if I could buy you a beer,” she repeats.

“I’m good. I have one coming,” I say.

She pouts. “Well, can I pull up a chair and chat with you?” she asks and places her hand on my shoulder and rubs it down my arm.

I stiffen and she must feel it too because she gives me a weird look and removes her hand. I don’t know what’s happening. I usually don’t reject these girls.

“What’s going on?” Cole asks me, leaving the conversation he was having with the chick beside him. He must have caught on to my lack of game tonight.

“Nothing, man. I think I’m going to eat my food and head out,” I say.

“Why?” He looks disappointed. “You’ve got—” He looks at the chick beside me. “What’s your name, baby?”

The chick grins at him, liking the attention. “Amber,” she says. Cole winces since that’s the name of his new step mommy. I want to laugh, but I don’t. I cock my brow and look at him instead.

“You have a nice ride back to Westfall,” he says and turns back to the chick beside him. At least I got him off my back.

I notice Dec heading to the restroom area with the chick that was hitting on him. Damn, he isn’t even going to go home with her. Not that I haven’t had my share of bathroom sex.

“Come on. Stay a while longer,” she whines and pushes out her plump lower lip.

“Sorry. I’m just not interested,” I say. I want to add that I have a girl back home, but the words aren’t ready to leave my lips.

“Fine,” she huffs and walks back to a table where a couple girls sit around giggling and watching our table.

The waiter brings me my steak. I eat it quickly and efficiently and then down half my beer. I pay my bill and leave a tip.

Some of the guys whine and boo when I say bye to them, but they’re too busy anyway focusing on their food and their… dessert.

I leave the bar and head back to Westfall, but when I get back to town, going home alone is the last thing I want, so I head to the Firken with one thing on my mind.