Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“And he’s going to kick my ass,” I growled, pulling free. “But I can’t keep this a secret.”
“You do, and I’ll tell him you forced me,” she blurted out as I started to walk away.
I glanced at her as I reached the door. “No one will believe that. My teammates know me. I might be a shit for touching you, but they know I’d never force myself on someone.”
She moved my way but stopped when I held out my hand.
“Can you at least wait until you come back?” she begged. “It’s not fair to do it before a game. You’ll mess him up. At least wait until you get back.”
That gave me pause. I let the door go as I considered her words. If I walked into that lounge and told Kyle I let his girlfriend suck my cock—drunk or not, broken up or not—he would come after me. There would be a fight, and it would tank team morale as a whole.
Could I do that just to alleviate my conscience?
It was a no-brainer. “Fine,” I said in a low voice. “But when we get home, I’m telling him.”
“Okay, fine. And we were drunk. It will be fine. I’ll beg for forgiveness.”
“Get in line,” I muttered as I turned from her and headed into the lounge. She hadn’t known Kyle as long as I had. We’d been playing together for four years now, and we were tight. He wasn’t going to forgive her.
I had no clue what he would do to me or if our friendship was in jeopardy. I vowed right then and there that if I could get his forgiveness and salvage our friendship, I’d never get drunk again.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to talk to him. I had to check in with the team’s medical staff and report my fever. My temperature was taken again, and despite the Tylenol, it had crept up to a hundred and two.
I was sent packing with instructions to head to the doctor for an examination, and I did not join the team on that trip.
Turns out I had the flu, and I watched the game on TV that night from my bed.
I was still watching TV when the plane crashed a few hours after the game ended and the news broke.
When it was confirmed that everyone aboard had died, something broke inside me. The pain and grief of losing all my friends. The realization that I never got to make things right with Kyle. That I was the rotten asshole on the team, and I was spared a horrible death.
I didn’t deserve that grace. I should have gone down with my team. It would’ve been an easy penance.
Now I’m stuck behind, living day in and day out with the knowledge I’m the worst sort of person, and I don’t deserve anything good.
Certainly not a hockey career. My new teammates deserve better than me because they could never truly trust me.
The leaves above me blur, causing me to blink. I stand from the chair and swallow the rest of the beer. Christ, I hate thinking about that time.
Hate that my decisions still plague me and the crash took away my chance to make things right with Kyle. I hate that Darcy put me in that position, and I hate myself most of all.
CHAPTER 10
Tillie
“Okay, drink up, ladies,” Hayley says as she holds her tequila shot in the air. We’ve got the requisite liquor, salt, and lime laid out.
Erica, Ann Marie, and I hoist our shots high.
“To the best friends a girl could have,” Hayley says earnestly, her short blond hair falling across her forehead and obscuring one eye.
I lick the salt from my hand, down the shot, and then suck on the lime before hissing through my teeth.
We do this every few months. There are a handful of pubs in the Coudersport area, but not all are close enough that we can actually crawl from one to the next. As such, Erica’s boyfriend, Hank, plays our designated driver and carts us all around. He’s a good guy, loves Erica mightily, and nurses a Coke at each bar we visit.
Best of all, he doesn’t sit with us. It’s a true girls’ night out, and he usually stays on the opposite side of whatever bar we’re in so we can talk about girl stuff.
This is our second stop of the night, thus our second shot. We’ll hit a few more bars and then Hank will load us up and take us home. We’ll all stay at his and Erica’s place tonight, and then Hank will fix us all a nice big breakfast in the morning.
It’s tradition.
I called for a bar crawl yesterday after my encounter with Coen. I’ve labeled it an encounter because if I call it what it was—oral sex—I am overwhelmed with feelings. In no particular order, they are desire, anger, embarrassment, humiliation, amusement, and disbelief.