Page 5 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

“And I think she’s totally down to bang. Like tonight.” He grins at me and waggles his tongue. “Like, totally.”

“Um, okay.”

“You know theater girls; they’re freaky.”

I just stare at him. “I don’t know this girl. So, I don’t really want to speak about your relationship with her.”

“I’m gonna play it cool, I don’t want her to think I’m a dog. I mean, my mom would not appreciate me just hitting and quitting it.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re thinking about your mom before taking this woman on a date and using her for sex.”

“Nah, man, I would never do that.” He looks taken aback. “I’m like, a perfect gentleman. I mean, she doesn’t know my real name, but I wanted her to like me for me and not wanna go to the tabloids. I don’t want someone just with me because I’m a hockey player and rich, you know?”

“What do you mean she doesn’t know your real name?” I frown.

“I told her my name’s Darren.” He starts laughing. “Cool, right?”

“Darren?” I just stare at him and shake my head. Elliott is not famous enough to have to give false names. “Don’t you think that’s kind of douchey?” I ask him.

“I mean, I don’t want any gold diggers. You know how it is. Women will come out of the woodwork if they think you’ve got a couple of pennies to rub together. I’m just trying to be cautious.”

“I get it,” I say. And it was true, I did. I’ve had plenty of women who were only after me because they thought I represented potential future child support or alimony. And then I think about Wes. My friend is a billionaire. And Sabrina, his now-girlfriend, had created a personal ad in the newspaper, saying that he was seeking a wife. This was before they got together, of course, but the number of women who attempted to contact him for the position… well, it was laughable. I didn’t even know there were that many women in New York. “I get it,” I say again. “Well, my friend and I are going to be meeting up at Bumblebee later, and his sister and her best friend will also be there.”

“They cute?”

“They’re okay. His sister’s a little uptight, and my friend is dating the other one.” My comment is a bit of a lie. Both women are gorgeous, but I’m not going to tell desperate-to-get-laid Elliott that.

“Whatevs. Cool. I’ll grab my suit, drop it off at home, and then I’ll meet you at Bumblebee. I’ll hit up theater girl and see if she’s interested in going for a late-night slice of pizza or ice cream or whatever after drinks. Maybe I’ll show her my apartment. You know how these women love to see a fly view. And my view is pretty fly.” I just stare at him as he chuckles.

“Hmm.”

“I only met her once, but I mean, I’m not trying to just dick her down, you know. I do want to be a gentleman. That’s how my mama raised me.”

“Think about if you were to tell your mom the story of meeting this woman and taking her out on a date. What would she think?”

“I see you, pops.”

“I’m not that much older than you, Elliott.” I shake my head and laugh.

“I know, but you’re definitely wiser than me.” His eyes crinkle. “I appreciate you being straight with me, though. Not many men would do that. You’re all right, Tyler Kane.”

“Thank you. I’m gonna head out of here, and maybe I’ll see you later.”

“Yup, peace,” he says. I grab my bag and head out of the locker room.

I head out into the cool, cold streets. I melt into the crowds and make my way down the busy street. Even though I am famous, here in New York City, people don’t stop and bother me. And that’s what I love about it. Here, I am no one. I’m just me. The hockey player who secretly loves art and wonders if he’ll ever be able to break the Kane curse of bad marriages.

Chapter Three

Erica

“Sabrina, where are you?” I scream as I run into her bedroom, holding my phone up. My heart is racing, and I’m still shocked that Darren has messaged me. Maybe I made a better impression in line than I’d thought.

“I’m in here getting ready. What is it?” She zips up her jeans and flattens them. “Did someone text you?” She stares at the phone I have held up in my hand.

“Not just someone, but possibly THE ONE. Remember that dude I told you I met yesterday?”

“The one in line?”