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All my life, I’ve sworn to myself I’d never fall for an addict or alcoholic, recovering or not. Every time my dad came home drunk and beat up my mom or destroyed things in our house, I crawled under my covers and shook with fear, vowing that I’d never live like that again once I had a choice.
I tell people every day that they can start fresh and not let drugs or alcohol control their lives. But letting someone vulnerable to addiction into my heart is a much scarier prospect. My heart has scars from addiction that will never fully heal.
“Hockey again?” Amelia groans and sits down next to me on the couch.
“Yep.”
“He’s definitely hot. I googled him.”
I feign disinterest. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
She laughs and picks up the container of beef lo mein from the coffee table. “It’s the worst kept secret ever, okay? You’ve been moping around the house in a Comets hoodie since he left and you’re watching the Blaze every time a game is on. There’s only one NHL player who recently finished rehab at Beckett, and it’s Alexei Petrov.”
“Will you pass me an eggroll?”
“Graysen.”
“Amelia.”
She huffs out a sigh and passes the waxy bag full of eggrolls. “What’s the deal? Are you ever gonna see him again?”
I shrug.
“This is bullshit.” She chews a bite of lo mein before continuing. “We tell each other everything. I’ve given you a week to mope and cry into your ice cream, so now it’s time to spill.”
“There’s not much to say. He’s gone.”
“Yeah, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? You guys can date now.”
I glare at her. “You know patients are supposed to avoid relationships for nine months to a year after treatment.”
“Oh shit. You’re actually doing that?”
“Yeah?” I furrow my brow. “You think the guidelines are just for the patients I don’t want to jump in bed with?”
She snorts. “Have you seen him shirtless, though? And those tats? You should get a month off for every tat.”
I bite the end off an eggroll. “If he wants to come find me in nine months, he can. But women throw their panties at hockey players, literally, so I’m not holding my breath.”
“And that’s why you bought a Comets hoodie and you’re learning about hockey when you had no interest before?”
“Give my lo mein back,” I say with an edge.
“If he’s smart, he’ll be finding you in nine months.”
I sigh softly, hoping she’s right. She snuggles a little closer to me.
“Wanna watch Debbie Downer SNL reruns since you’re in a shit mood?”
“Yeah.” I turn my face toward her. “I didn’t buy this, though. It’s his hoodie.”
“What!” She shouts, her whole expression lighting up. “His? He gave you his hoodie?”
“Yeah, we’re basically two high schoolers.”
“I think it’s cute. I’d fucking die if a guy like him gave me his hoodie. Hell, I’d take a sock…a used bath towel—anything.”
“How’s Paul?”
“Still good.” She smiles. “I don’t have any of his hoodies, but I did wear some of his old scrubs the other night, and that was hot.”
She grabs the remote and asks, “Do we want to start with Debbie at Thanksgiving?”
“Yep, always.”
We watch every Debbie Downer skit followed by our favorite movie, Bridesmaids. By then, Amelia is half asleep.
“I have to go take a shower,” she says, yawning.
I go into my bedroom and get my phone, lying down as I look at the screen. I programmed Alexei’s number into my phone in case I ever lose his note. Every night I look at his number and think about texting him. I chicken out every time, though.
Instead, I get under the covers and think about his “dream.” I’ve never in my life had sex like that. Honestly, I thought that kind of sex wasn’t even real. But just hearing him describe what he wanted to do with me—to me—made me hot and bothered all over.
“I didn’t just lick her pussy—I worshipped every inch of it.”
I’ve had sex, but usually, I’m the one who makes sure I get off. My past partners have jabbed, poked, and groaned for days and still not gotten me off. I felt like I needed to put a glowing neon arrow sign above my clit to clue them in. And even then, I probably would’ve had to provide detailed instruction about what to actually do.
Alexei knows, though. It’s obvious from the way he can turn me on with just his words. I don’t like that he’s been with lots of women, but I’m guessing he’s got some top-notch ninja sex skills.
I hope to find out someday, if he’s still interested. But for now, all I have is the fantasy of him.
Well, that and a trusty vibrator with eight speed settings. I pull open my bedside drawer and take it out. It’s not much of a substitute for Alexei Petrov, but for now, it’s all I’ve got.
