18. Puck Bunny

Song: 3OH3! - Don't Trust Me


JORDAN'S POV


Why did women always do that? Have sex and then run away? I’m not averse to a little cuddling or spooning in the morning. She’d practically ran out this morning after we’d had that conversation, though I’m pretty sure we’re still in limbo land. Sure we’d decided to be exclusive but the short trip back to hers had been awkwardly quiet, with her promising to call me soon, when she was in Pitt. I felt like I’d finally bridged the gap to her, only for her to run away, literally, to New York.

As I got in the shower, I realised that I still didn’t feel like I knew her. All those simple things such as does she have siblings, what do her parents do, her favourite colour, meal, is she allergic to anything? I know about the epilepsy, that her cousin’s Zach Parise, she’s from Montreal so she probably speaks some French too, she has her belly button pierced and she prefers tequila. For a girl I’m supposed to be exclusive with, it’s lame. I got into the shower, thinking about her body and when I’d next see her. We were going on an eight day west coast trip so perhaps sometime when I got back. I could do eight days without sex. I wondered why I was taking a shower before going to practise, only to take another one afterwards. Really not thinking today - the sex had been that good.


“JORDY! DID YOU GET LAID?!?!?! JORDY GOT LAID!” I could hear Max bellowing as I entered the locker room. Great, just about everyone in the igloo and downtown Pittsburgh can probably hear him. I dumped my bag down in my stall, trying to keep a low profile. I could see TK and Sid smirking at me. One of them got laid constantly so I don’t know why he was smirking; Sid, well, he might as well be a priest with a vow of celibacy if you knew how infrequently he gets any.

After making what I thought was a sweet escape to the ice, I found TK right behind me. I knew he was gonna press me for information, so I might as well tire him out before he starts asking questions. I set off round the rink at a fast pace, flicking the puck around the edge of my stick as I went. I could hear TK just behind me telling me to slow down before out of nowhere a stick came out, almost causing me to trip. I heard his stupid grin before skidding to a halt, causing flecks of ice to fly.

“So?” TK asked. As if I was just going to tell him like that?! I gave a non-committal jerk of the head, the one that means, y’kno’, but wasn’t going to let any more slip.

“Lola?” Are you kidding me? That skank? I whacked him on the legs with my stick and shook my head before heading back to rejoin the others at centre ice.

“Here comes Casanova,” Max yelled. Awesome, let Yeo and Byls know too - just what I need. I glared at Max.

“How was Ellie?”

“-Ella,” TK interjected.

“Yeah Ella, whatever. So did she fall for your cooking skills? Or lack of?”

“You cooked?” TK asked, looking at me.

“Yeah what abou-” I began as Max cut me off.

“You seeing her again?”

“Any more texts?” TK added.

Why do I hang out with these guys again?

“Are you sure she’s not a puck bunny? She’s hot, but you never know, she might have been taking pics of your place and put them online,” Max said, putting my hand on my shoulder. What? I’m pretty sure she’s not a puck bunny considering who her cousin is. And I don’t remember a camera. She’s never been to a hockey game, and she had no idea I even played in the NHL until she saw me running around in the corridor. She’s as far from puck bunny as you can possibly get.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” I said, splashing water on my face. “Parise is her cousin.”
At this Max’s eyes almost popped out, as he choked back on his mouthguard. I gave him a little push and nodded.

“Does, does he know?” Max said quietly, getting a little closer. Max is rarely speechless. It happened so infrequently – he was always there, ready to give his opinion on everything under the sun, that I had previously thought pigs might fly. No, he doesn’t no, and before you tell everyone I don’t want the whole Devils team against me next time we meet if I fuck up with Ella. I shook my head.

“Staalsie, you’re quiet today. Did a birdie get your tongue?” Dupers asked.

“Hah! Good one! Ha ha ha, more like a bird, a chick,” Max said high-fiving Dupuis, before slapping me hard on the back. Thanks again Max. Revenge would be sweet, and it’s not like Max wasn’t going to sleep with someone this week, I’d just make sure TK and I got him then. TK was supposed to be on my side – we live together.

“So when do we get to meet her,” TK said, flicking an idle puck away from my left skate as I leaned on my stick.

“I don’t know, she’s in New York,” I muttered. They were still getting too much information.

“Dude, you can’t have been any good last night. She’s clearly moving onto your bro, or Avery,” Max said. As if any girl would willingly sign up for a night with Sean Avery. He looks like he should be in Lock Stock or something, not hockey. And as my brother had informed me, Sean Avery did not have any problems with the ladies, like me, as they were implying.

“STAAL! Suicides, NOW!” Yeo shouted over me. “Get your womanising ass into gear!”
What the hell, I thought, as I sprinted off. Even Max and Tanger don’t get suicides the morning after… And I hadn’t been bragging about getting laid either like Max does. He always goes in too much detail, underwear, positions…

I pushed my body harder, my skates crunching across the smooth ice as fire burned through my quads. I gave a short burst of acceleration before turning quickly, keeping low as I dashed back across the ice. Max and TK were going to pay for this later. Something, anything to get back at them. I thought about messing with their kit bags but that was too obvious. Max isn’t too superstitious, but I know TK is. For Max I’d have to do something with his clothes – he’s way too fussy with them.

How much longer was I going to have to do this for? My legs were beginning to ache, but I wasn’t sure how many more suicides I could take. I glanced at the clock. I’d been doing this for close to thirty minutes – perhaps a season record for anyone on the team. I know I’d got laid last night, but it wasn’t like I’d let the team down. I’d come to an optional practice, and they were making me do suicides for getting laid. Next time, I’m skipping the optional practice.

“STAAL, stop carving up the ice and go home. Get your useless body back to your woman!” Coach Bylsma called. Fuck. That is not a great sign. When top dog steps in and tells you to go home, it’s not a good sign. Either that or they thought they’d get rid of me as scapegoat to make practice easier. Why was Max even here today? He never made optional practices… Is he here just to piss me off? I wouldn’t put it past him.

I stalked back to the dressing room, pissed that I was being sent home and wasn’t going to get a chance to hang with the team and annoyed I now had an empty day. Slipping off my skates, I glanced at TK’s stall next to mine. He’d left his socks out on the bench. Big mistake. I grabbed his clothes, dropping one item at a time, making a trail of clothes leading to the showers, before returning to Max’s stall. I discreetly cut a hole on the inside of his pockets, knowing anything he put in them would straight down his trouser legs. I wasn’t done yet. I got Tanger’s skates and swapped them with TK’s spares and Max’s so they were all mixed around together. That’ll do for now, I thought as I grabbed my hat on my way out.

Max’s words echoed in my mind: “Are you sure she’s not a puck bunny?” I’m ninety nine percent sure. She wasn’t clingy, she didn’t call me for days on end, and she had no idea who Max Talbot was. That, in itself was a good sign. If she’d lived in Pittsburgh for three years and she still didn’t recognise me or Max, she couldn’t be interested in hockey. Either that or she was a good actress and she’d fooled me.

Puck bunnies are usually interested in getting to Sid or Geno. So far she hadn’t mentioned either. The only hockey player she seemed to know was her cousin, Zach fucking Parise, New Jersey’s golden boy. She was well dressed, her hair was in good condition; flawless skin, Chanel purse, expensive underwear and nice shoes. Everything about her screamed high maintenance yet her attitude was down to earth and normal. She reminded me of a girl I knew back in Thunder Bay, only hotter. I wasn’t sure what to make of her. Hell I barely know her but I know I like her. And after sex like that, one of the best in my life, probably top three, I definitely wanted to see her again, which is why I asked for exclusivity. I didn’t want any other guy getting in on that, especially Noah. I’d call her tonight. Technically I shouldn’t, I mean, when a girl says she’ll call you, you let them do it, but it’d be eight days until we were back in the same city.

Since when did I get this sensitive and insecure?