Of course the fans love it. They erupt around me, calling out my name and cheering for me. Sometimes I wonder if they’re fans of my hockey skills or my right hook. I think some more for my right hook. Regardless, it was fucking satisfying.
I glance over at Vladmir, who spits out a chunk of blood. Maybe stop slashing me with your stick, and I won’t slam you into the boards next time, you fuck.
I lean back and let out a deep breath. That’s when I catch Coach Wood out of the corner of my eye. His arms are crossed, and he’s staring me down.
Can’t tell if he’s pleased with what I did or angry.
Either way, I’m probably going to hear about it.
I pushmy hand through my hair as I move toward the apartment elevator and push the up button.
We suffered a loss tonight. Not because of my penalty, but because we couldn’t pull together any goals. It was a zero-one game. We were all off, and of course Coach Wood let us hear it while throwing a chair across the locker room.
If anyone needs a therapy session, I think it’s that dude. Talk about blue balls. He needs to get laid. No one talked to each other. Halsey was pissed at himself for not scoring at least one goal. Silas was off as well with his passes, making it harder for Halsey to score. And OC seemed to be somewhere else. It was the first time we didn’t work together. And that’s bound to happen. You can’t be perfect every game, but you can sure as hell learn from it.
My phone dings with a text as the elevator door opens, and I press the button for my floor.
Eli:Want to have that therapy session now?
This guy. Christ. He’s been more involved in my life in the past few days than ever before. He has a lady and a baby. He needs to focus on them, not me.
Levi:Seriously, I’m good, dude.
Eli:You sure? Because it seems like all this pent-up aggression you had tonight could be directed toward the new change in your life. Perhaps the hot redhead who’s working for you?
Levi:If you think I’m angry because I can’t fuck her, you couldn’t be more wrong.
Eli:I didn’t say it. You did.
Clever fuck.
Levi:Just some built-up aggression. Nothing you need to worry about.
Eli:I do need to worry about it. You’re my second half out there on the ice. We’ll be off if your head isn’t in the right spot. Lawes worked his ass off tonight, blocking shots left and right. We have to do a better job.
Levi:I know. But I promise, it was just an off day. It will be better next game. We’ll get the dub.
Eli:Okay, but promise you’ll talk to me if you need to.
Levi:Promise.
Yeah, I don’t mean that. No chance in hell am I going to bring this up to the guys. Nope. They give the worst advice. I’ve lived through it. They’re lucky they had me to get them through their girl problems. Nope, I can solve this on my own.
I unlock my door and move into my apartment, flipping on the light only to find Wylie sitting at the island, waiting for me.
“Jesus Christ,” I say, hand to heart. “Fuck, what are you doing here sitting in the dark?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I was working on your placemat stain and then got tired and started doing social media. It turned dark, and before I realized it, you arrived home. I hope you don’t mind that I was in here. I know you said it’s not a hang-out space. But I needed the room and counter for the stain.”
“It’s fine,” I say, shutting the door behind me. Compose yourself, Posey. Be cool. Steady.
“Sorry about the loss. Also, saw that you got in a brawl. Did you get hurt?”
“No.” I set down my keys and wallet on my console table, then take off my shoes. “Vlad punched me in my padding, but I got him in the face.”
“So he’s the one who got hurt?”
“That seems to always be the case.” I move over toward her and glance down at the placemat. The stain is now larger than it was before, spread out and only partially faded. I don’t believe she’s made it better but worse.
“Yeah, don’t look at that,” she says as she takes the placemat away and sets it on her lap. “I was trying to go for a non-toxic chemical route, but it seems that won’t do the trick. I’ll do more research and see how to remove this. In the meantime, please direct your attention to the corner of the room to meet your new fiddle leaf fig tree.”
Oh, fuck yeah.
The time has come.
Dreams are coming true after a shit of a day.
Come to Papa . . .
I turn toward the corner of the living room, expecting to see a well-nourished, thriving fiddle leaf fig, but to my dismay, a small pot sits on the floor with three leaves sprouting from it instead.
My brow pinches together. “What’s that?”
“I know what you must be thinking.” She gets off her stool and walks over to the plant. “It’s small now, but with lots of love and devotion to its growth, this fiddle leaf fig will soon be a blooming fiend taking over this very space.”
Those three leaves will need a lot more than some love and devotion.
She got me the Charlie Brown version of a fiddle leaf fig tree, not the monstrous, girthy log of a tree I expected.
“It’s incredibly small,” I say. “Especially for the space. I was thinking of something that would be bigger, more . . . mature.”
“And I thought that too, but Cahutta at the nursery said it would feel more satisfying to build a connection with a plant at such a young stage in its journey and watch it flourish throughout its life and yours.”
“Cahutta?” I ask with a quirked brow.
“Yes, he was amazing. I spent about an hour and a half just walking through the nursery with him, talking about different plants. He offered to meet up with me later to go over the intricacies of taking care of a fiddle leaf fig, but I told him I was busy. Gave him my number, though, so he could call later and fill me in.”
Well, Cahutta is fucking dead.
“Call later? Wylie, you realize he was hitting on you, right?”
She pauses and thinks about it. “God, you think so?”
“Uh, yeah. Who the fuck spends that much time talking about a plant?”
“I just thought he was being nice. Huh.” She taps her chin. “Well, I hope he was. This girl could use a wild night.” She clears her throat and picks up the minuscule plant. I swear, it’s smaller than Sherman. And here I was, about to brag about my giant tree in my apartment, and this is what I have to work with? Christ. “I think we should set him on the coffee table for now. Don’t need him getting trampled.”
“Yeah, don’t want that,” I say while grabbing the back of my neck. What a disappointment.
And to add salt to the wound, apparently, she’s fishing for a wild night.
Step into my bedroom, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re looking for.
“I’m sorry it’s not bigger. I can see your disappointment. I can go back and talk to Cahutta, let him know we’re looking for something more mature and not necessarily a human/plant bonding experience.”
“Nope, this works,” I say, not wanting her to go back to that nursery. Fucking Cahutta. Last thing I need is for her to speak to some romanticizing plant man who she brings back to her nanny hole.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind going back.”
“No, don’t. Let’s just focus on the tasks you need to complete. Because I have more. And you need to pack for me.”
“Don’t worry, I already did that. You’re all set to go.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Even took it upon myself to pack you some condoms and a vibrator, in case you wanted to go solo.” Jesus. “Wasn’t sure how many condoms you’d need. I figured one a night because I wasn’t sure how long you could go—”
“All night,” I say, that irritation clawing up me once again. “I can go all fucking night.”
With a surprised expression, she says, “Oh, good for you. With your age, I wasn’t sure what your stamina was like.”
“I’m not that goddamn old,” I say in a snappier tone, which of course only makes her smile more. Seems like my pain is her pleasure.
“Well, either way. I can add more if you’d like.”
“Don’t plan on fucking anyone while I’m away,” I say as I move down toward my bedroom to find my suitcase on the bed with the packing cubes spread out and full.
“Don’t plan on fucking anyone?” she asks. “I don’t think that’s a very good decision.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Well, not to point out the obvious, but it seems like you’re very tense at the moment. Your shoulders are practically kissing your ears. Whenever I see that much tension in a man, I know they need to let loose.”
“I’m fine.”
“Ehhh, once again, not to overstep here, but I care to disagree. Maybe there’s something I can do to help.”
Uh, yeah, there is.
Take your shirt off.
Take your pants off.
Disrobe everything and get on your fucking knees.
Let me wrap your hair around my fist and guide that sweet mouth over my cock.
Let me fuck your mouth until you gag.
That’s what you can fucking do.
“I’m fine,” I say, turning away from her. I look at all the packing cubes and sift through them. “Why did you pack so many boxer briefs?” Focus on something else other than her plump and pouty lips.
“Because you can never have enough underwear. Plus you like to sleep in them, so I figured you would want to have extras on hand.”
Smart. Didn’t think about that.
I pick up a matching sweatsuit. “What’s this?”
“A sweatsuit,” she replies.
“I see that, but why did you pack it?”
“Because I thought you could use a style update.” How dare she. My style is impeccable. “I was going through your social media videos, and some of the casual outfits you wear lack some modern Gen Z appeal.”
Is she talking about tucking my sweatpants into my tube socks? Because I fucking refuse.
REFUSE!
“That’s because I’m a millennial,” I say.
“Yes, I know. It’s obvious.” Uh, pardon me? “I thought I’d spice it up a bit. Give you something to wear that the kids can relate to. Also, how do you feel about a bolo tie?”
“Not a fan,” I say.
“Oof, good thing I asked,” she says as she reaches into one of the packing cubes and pulls it out.
Where the hell did she even get that?
“You know, maybe I should just pack myself.”
“No,” she says quickly. “I can handle it.” She places her hand on my arm, and I nearly come. Yeah, you read that correctly. COME! “This is what we call a teachable lesson. I’ve learned to pack lots of condoms because you can go all night, bravo to you, and no bolo tie. See, making mental notes now. But look at what else I packed. I think I did a great job with the rest. Your toiletry bag is in the bathroom ready to go, but I left out your toothbrush because you still need to use that as well as your deodorant and cologne, which I might have sniffed. It smells good, in case you were wondering. From the lady’s perspective, great choice.”
Pheromones will do that.