Page 23 of Best Man on Campus

The sex was a one-timer. Memorable like a pretty dream, but not to be counted on to happen again. Ever. A breakthrough? I snort and tilt my face under the pounding of the shower spray. How can I trust that? What’s one night against five years of nights and nightmares, of bottled-up tension, of an ocean of pain against a droplet of pleasure.

And unicorn boy? I’ll never hear from him again. But so what? I don’t need him. He served his purpose, patching one tiny pinprick among the gaping holes in my soul.

I don’t relish disappointing Majiski, but I can’t live my life for her and no matter how much she thinks Ben might be good for my soul, I know I’m fucking poison to him. And there’s no way he deserves the kind of trouble I am even if he does come back. My stomach tumbles and my chest tightens as I shut the water off.

I’ll find a way to convince him to run. I’ll find a way to let him go when he does.

But I don’t want to let him go, in spite of the fear. The pang of longing wars inside me with the demons, the clawing need for his warmth, his kind well-meaning attention. The need for his goodness wells and doesn’t disappear, for all my pretense at bravery and self-sacrifice.

Or maybe I’m just a stupid fool.

Chapter 5

Ben

Monday Practice

After leaving the house at 7 a.m. with my duffel and a coffee in hand, I head to the rink. It won’t be the first time I’ve skated on two hours’ sleep, but we’re getting ready for the playoffs and this is my senior year and it doesn’t get any more important. The last thing I want to do is let my teammates down. I’m better than this. Or I should be. I used to be. I want to blame it on organic chem, but my detour to Jazzy’s place for a night and a day is the real issue.

But I can’t beat myself up over spending the time with her. Can’t make myself stop wanting to see her again. She’s like a treasure chest and you need a key to unlock her and find what you know will be something spectacular inside because you’ve had glimpses, seen the promise. So my real issue is, like always, my own messed-up needs and desires, because underneath it all, no matter how patient I am with her, no matter how many orgasms I give her, I want her because she gives me more.

She allows me the thrill of making a difference to another human being.

Pushing through the back door of the rink, I head straight for the team’s locker room. I hear voices before I get there and realize I’m later than usual. I’ll need to book it to get onto the ice first, to play the fucking team leader I’m supposed to be.

“If it isn’t Romeo finally showing up—”

“Fuck you, Voz.” There’s no heat in my words as I slam open my locker door and start dressing in quick efficient movements.

“No, the question is, did you fuck Jazzy? We’re dying to know whether you backed our bets and if she needs to pay up.”

My eyes shoot to his. In all the drama and emotion of the night and day, and all the hazy pleasure of sex, I forgot about the bet. Forgot that Jazzy would owe Kace a hundred smacks and others would be collecting on side bets all because I slept with her. There’s no gracious way out of this one.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, stalling. I’ll need to cover Kace’s bet. No way am I letting Jazzy pay that. The rest of the clowns and their side bets are on their own.

“That’s no answer. Did you—?”

“Shut the fuck up.” I stand up and push Voz back into his locker, holding him there with my forearm across his chest. I’m far bigger and stronger than he is. He’s a fast, wiry bastard, but small for a defenseman, so it’s no great accomplishment. I take a deep breath to get my racing heart back to a non-life-threatening rate.

Getting my head wrapped around how much I want to punch my teammate’s face in for his disrespect is another matter. Voz always talks like a bastard and I always manage to ignore his sucky attitude for the sake of team harmony, discouraging him without putting him down, changing the subject or otherwise diffusing and minimizing his ignorant commentary. I always keep my cool.

Not today. “Show some class for a change of pace, Voz. Or if you can’t, then keep your fucking mouth shut and don’t say another word about Jazzy or the bet. We’re here to play hockey. How about we focus on that?”

I back off him, but with Voz’s comments and talk of the bet hanging in the air, the locker room is uncomfortable. I don’t like any of it and I need to refocus the team.

“Am I wrong or do we have a fucking playoff game tomorrow night?” I ask.

Kace and Stone speak the loudest, but the rest of the team, who’ve now filled the locker room, add to the rousing answer to my question with shouts of “Hell, yeah!” and the atmosphere changes.

The room settles to a low buzzing energy as I finish lacing my skates and get onto the ice first, as always. But barely, as several other guys are on my heels, skating past me while I shed the rust from more than enough tequila and too much sex for a guy who’s trying to peak for a championship run.

After the drills and a hard skate, Coach blows his whistle and I skate to the bench behind the rest of the team. Our team’s doctor is there, Dr. Walter Adenaki. I call him Doctor Walt to annoy him. He says just to call him Walt, but I can’t do it. I have too much respect for all the work and dedication it takes to become a physician and no way am I going to take that for granted.

“Did you talk to Coach?” I ask in a low voice. “Can I continue my shadowing during the playoffs to make my hours?”

“Yes. I convinced him. Not that there’ll be a lot of hours with who knows how many games left to the season. How about if you come by at lunchtime today? I’ll be checking a couple of guys and clearing them for game status tomorrow night.”

Mentally rearranging the plans I had to talk to Majik at BMOC House at lunchtime, and erasing my disappointment at missing her food, I nod, grateful for the opportunity.