It’s not like she’s the love of my life or anything. I don’t even know her full name. But the feel of her body on mine, the heat of her closing in on me as she came, the way I nearly blacked out from ecstasy as I lost myself inside her.
Nothing compares to that, and I don’t know if anything ever will.
We fit together. It felt right.
I’m not a guy who gets attached to anything. I know better.
I fell hard one other time in my life, and I’ve never looked back.
The first time my scrawny little six-year-old ass took a few wobbly steps on the ice, I was hooked. I could barely lace my skates, but it didn’t matter. I knew in no uncertain terms that I was in love and that I was destined to play hockey for the rest of my life.
It’s funny to me now, because my home rink is not exactly a gateway to the NHL. My Aunt Kimmy’s on-again-off-again boyfriend Steve worked part time at a Speedy Lube. He knocked off in time to get me off the bus and we’d head downtown to a fine establishment called Boards and Brews. Steve spent his hours warming a barstool on the Brews side of the building. It wasn’t legal for me to belly up to the bar with him, and since he was longtime friends with the guys who owned the place, he had some deal worked out where I got to play on the U8 hockey team and they got free oil changes for life, I guess.
Steve’s only goal was to not let his babysitting gig interfere with his drinking habit. He wasn’t trying to get me to socialize with kids my age or learn the value of teamwork. And he sure as hell wasn’t trying to make me into one of the most sought-after goalies in college hockey.
I was bounced around from relative to distant relative for the next ten years. The only thing that ever remained constant in my life was hockey, and I know that had more to do with keeping me out of everyone’s way than a desire to foster a love of the sport or gain a scholarship to school.
No one else in my family went to college that I know of. A fair amount never graduated high school and the vastmajority of my relations are more likely to wear prison orange than they are to don a cap and gown.
“Incoming!”
Ollie’s booming voice jolts me out of my head just in time to step out of the way of my teammate and his comrades, all of whom are toting giant water guns as they storm the poolside lawn.
Absolute mayhem erupts as they launch their attack. I hang back and watch as girls start shrieking. Apparently, getting sprayed with water is not something they expected when they decided to stand ten feet from a swimming pool.
To be fair, last week’s theme was better suited to water sports. But I’m not telling Ollie that. In fact, I’m gonna duck out of sight before he?—
“Briiiick!”
Dammit.
My teammate is doing his best to wrestle me into a headlock, even though I edge him out by two inches. Nimbly, I duck free of his hold and swipe his UZI while I’m at it. I’m not much of a joiner, but hell if I’m gonna be the target.
“You fucker!” Ollie yells, swiping at me a second too late. He’s laughing, though, and loving every minute of it.
This is the kind of shit he lives for, and I have to admit, I get the appeal. Before I can think better of it and toss the water gun at him, I find myself darting through the mass of wet bodies, spraying as I go.
It’s total chaos out here. Not only are half a dozen of us carrying HydroBlasters, but a couple of people have started using their plastic cups to scoop water from the pool in a futile effort to fight back. It’s a terrible idea all-around, and I’m damn glad I don’t live here because their pool’s gonna be fucked. But that’s not my problem.
A couple girls have apparently decided their lacy nighties are weighing them down, so they start stripping down, tossing their lacy pj’s into the pool as they go. Dudes arejoining in and I have no doubt this is going to turn into an orgy in a matter of minutes.
I take advantage of the distraction to kneel down at the pool’s edge and restock my ammo. Yeah, the fun’s about to get x-rated, but before it does, I’ll take them all down in a blaze of glory.
Weaving my way back into the crowd, I spot Ollie’s bare ass. He’s with his equally-naked buddy Aven and they’re working together to help a girl out of her barely-there pajamas.
They don’t see me coming.
I laugh as the stream of water hits its target, causing Ollie to yelp as he jumps a few inches in the air. To his credit, the fact he’s been ambushed doesn’t stop his handiwork. He manages to unsnap the brunette’s bra one-handed without missing a beat.
I bypass Aven because the man’s kneeling in front of said brunette looking like he’s about to eat a meal for the first time in a week. I don’t know him well, but I know that look of absolute hunger. I wore it last week at this same party. No doubt I’ve been walking around with that exact expression on my face since.
I manage to soak a few more partygoers before a slippery slumber party takes over the pool deck. I see Toad loading up his HydroBlaster with lube, and that’s my cue to move on.
And holy hell, I did not know they sold lube in gallon jugs…
Dropping the water gun on the grass, I make my way over to Van and Santos’s wrecked campsite and grab a towel from their bag. I made fun of them earlier, but I’m damn grateful two of my teammates came prepared.
“Goddammit,” Van mutters, frowning at the gooey mess in his left hand.
