Rich Man

The satisfied smirk refused to leave my lips all throughout pregame. Every time Patrice and I made eye contact, he would grin and shake his head in what was probably still disbelief; then fire a puck straight for Timmy in net.

My lips moved greedily over the newly exposed skin of his chest, every now and then ceasing motion to feel him writhe underneath me. There was a level of sadistic pleasure I received for every time I stopped to remind him that he wasn’t allowed to reimburse my kind of payment; only to have him groan and flex his fingers, twisting in my hair. Mind you, he didn’t make fists or pull, but I could tell he was resisting the urge by the way his fingers twitched with every half inch I moved down his abdomen.

I had found my way to my voluntarily lone seat when my phone began going ballistic in my bag. Instead of a call as I had expected, it was a simple text from Blake.

Dude what the hell did you do to Bergy? He won’t stop grinning like a fucking idiot. WE NEED ANGRY BERGERON.

Sorry kid, I typed in reply, but I have no idea. He probably had a wet dream or something and thinks it actually happened. Let him have his fun. xD

Bergeron? Wet dream? You fucked him. You definitely fucked him.

Don’t be an idiot. We’re FRIENDS.

LIES.

I had half a mind to not reply, but as I was on my way to carelessly shove my phone in my pocket, I received another text from the same bonehead reading: Just kidding. We all know you guys just like verbally sparring. ;] Enjoy the game.

Tongue tracing a small, pointed pattern down the center of his lower abdominal region, I had the boy right in the palm of my hand. While he tried to speak and remain composed, I was gradually driving him to lose his voice and cloud his thoughts. There was no doubt in my mind that driving him mad would be an easy task. It was remaining dominant that was the issue.

Three to two; loss.

There was a time period sitting in a cab with Blake and Matt where I thought I’d get my head chomped off if I tried to say anything under the classification of consoling. But I guess I had that coming. They all played a fantastic game, but miracles do happen. Sadly those miracles weren’t working on our side.

Blake grumbled and Matt groaned and I sat there just breathing. The awkwardness was killing me. “Drinks on me tonight, kids,” I proclaimed with a tone both enthused and reassuring. They both eyed me before shrugging and going back to their pouty business. “Are you guys always like this after a loss?”

“Just a little,” Matt replied, “I still don’t get how that shit happens though. I mean I had four posters! Four! How the hell do I get four posters! Isn’t that some kind of record or some shit?”

“Dude I heard Bergs got something crazy like ten out of our forty shots on goal and not one went in,” replied Blake, still sullen, but I got their points.

“Well that’s all the more reason to just move on, right? I mean, you can’t go back and change it. You guys should know that better than anyone. Just shake it off and move on to the next game.”

When I got no real reply, I rolled my eyes and gave in. I was far too mentally busy with figuring out my next plans for Bergeron and Blake and dealing with the Milan issue to give much of a damn about those two boneheads’ ailments. Bergeron and I are pretty much straight with each other. He knows where I stand and he won’t say anything. As for Milan… I have no plans for him. He’ll be absolutely fine so long as he doesn’t figure out and me and Patrice.

Those thoughts circulated my mental stream for a brief moment, but were shoved aside with oncoming plans for Bergeron. I still needed dirt on Tera. It was getting ridiculous. The need for details on that corrupting entity was becoming a requirement for survival. I was far from willing to go any longer without knowledge of, if anything, her history with them all.

However, as I glanced down at my vacuous phone and let my eyes drift to one concentrated Blake Wheeler, something popped into my mind. Lex loves him, yet he denies her that mutual attraction. He’s so wrapped up in Tera that he denies Lex the attention she deserves. Pathetic, really. This Tera character is obviously built for the kill if she can so grossly overshadow the importance of another girl with such strong emotions for Blake.

“Hey, Roark? Earth to Ray,” Matt’s hand flailed in front of my face, “We’re texted around and the guys want to all get a nice dinner and then go for another movie night at the hotel. You in?” he asked simply.

I shrugged and nodded, but kept my eyes trained knowingly on Blake. He had this sickened look on his face so subtle that I had only noticed due to the unorthodox twitch of his right eye as he peered idly out the window. Obviously he was lost in thought about something somehow pertaining to the night’s plans. It had to be secretive; it had to be Tera.

-

Patrice fell face-first onto the first bed next to a few of the other guys. About twenty of the men scattered around this one, two-bed hotel room as we popped Transformers into the DVD player and commenced our movie night. I was perched beside Blake this time and kept a clear eye on him. It was eleven when he received a call and left the room.

“Hey guys, I’m getting really tired so I’m heading off to bed. Catch you guys tomorrow,” he simply chimed in from the bathroom and left all of us alone, just sitting there shrugging or nodding.

Maybe it was too risky. Maybe it was a little stupid, but I stood up and brushed myself off with a minuscule yawn. Patrice yanked on my shirt, eyes curiously trained on my form. Blatantly ignoring him, I simply whispered, “I’m going to go get a drink down stairs and hit the sack.”

No one asked a single question. They just watched as I slipped from the room and down the hall, conveniently pacing in the direction of my room which was located only two doors down from Blake. Unaware that he had company, the boy answered a phone call and rounded the corner at the end of the hall. I clearly heard him click the elevator button just as his conversation started.

“Hey, babe, sorry about that. I meant to call you sooner, but I got stuck in a stupid movie night thing with the boys… So are we still on for the eleventh?”

My ears burnt with his words. They’re meeting on the eleventh… That’s twenty-six days from now. The night of the Chicago game.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then. Yeah, you too. Bye.”

I caught the door of the elevator before it could close. Blake stared at me, wide-eyed, as I slipped into the closet-length space. A moment of silence passed. I leaned against the wall of the elevator and let my eyes fall shut. We were down about a floor when my hand impulsively slammed against the elevator brake and we were thrust to a halt. He barked at me out of shock, but I calmly stared back at him.

Picking at my nails, I let him come to me. But only after a few words of suggestion. “Spill it, kid.”

“Spill wh-“

“That wasn’t Lex you were ‘babe’ing.”

The boy instantly fell silent. He didn’t know how to counter or defend himself. Body tensing, he simply stared at me. And he was right to do so. Like he was assuming, I did know exactly what to say,

“Just say it, Blake. You’re cheating.”

“I’m not,” he shouted, but silenced himself the moment our eyes locked in a cold, nonchalant match, “I’m not cheating. It’s complicated.”

“Bullshit.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Just tell me Blake. I hear dramatic shit kind of a lot and do I ever repeat it? No. Why? Because I care about you guys, but I do want answers.” When he silently stared at me, continuing to take in my words, I went on, “It’s your life, not mine. Your choices, all that.” I picked at my nail. “I’m not looking for excuses. Just an explanation.”

He studied me, hesitating still. I wasn’t surprised in the least. “It’s been obvious for awhile you don’t feel half as much as Lex seems to feel for you. Am I getting warm?”

My daunting smile provoked him into action, dancing at the tips of my fingers. Me clutched a rueful fist and glared daggers in my smug direction, his apprehensive demeanor music to my waiting eyes. “Lex is my best friend… She and I aren’t… You know. She’s just trying to help me keep seeing this other girl under wraps.”

“Tera?”

His jaw fell unhinged as I dropped her name from my lips with a serpentine half smile. “How did you…”

“You wouldn’t go through so much trouble to cover up seeing anyone else.”

He studied me now, silently, hushed at the idea that I knew his secrets; that I could end him at the drop of the slightest word. So I naturally straightened up and gave him a head-on stare of sincerity. “We never talked. I never heard your conversation and you just decided to go downstairs with me for a pre-bedtime, nonalcoholic drink.” Blake was wordless, but I could see it in his eyes. He understood that I was to be trusted. After all, he had no choice in the matter. After he nodded, I let the elevator jerk back into action.

And I didn’t hesitate to ask the question that had been burning in the back of my mind from the moment I had first heard her name.

“But answer me this. Who is she?”

The doors slid open to reveal a quieted lobby. His arm linked forcefully with mine and I found myself being dragged around a corner and down a narrow, granite hall. It was completely vacant as we slipped out a back door and onto this paved outdoor path that curled around the entire hotel and down town. It was much like a river walk, only lined with green plants and flowers.

“You’re not going to say anything,” he mumbled as if to rationalize exactly what he was about to tell me. Here was a great deal of terse silence that I could feel him fight through as we began our walk. And after a minute or two of nervous silence, he finally began to explain.

“I don’t know how far back to go… She just sort of… Appeared. I can’t explain it. I just got over a bad relationship and I met her. We started hanging out. It was no big deal. Out of nowhere we got closer and I don’t know. She told me she could help make everything better. Like, with me and the guys. She took psychology courses in college and she was really good with people, so I told her to meet everyone and asked her to help me make everything alright again.”

“Wait,” I interjected, “What was going wrong at the time?”

“Well Looch had just proposed to Kelsey and everyone didn’t want him to. It was just a lot of drama… And Tera,” he took a breath, “Remember the notorious Milan versus Patrice fist fight?”

I nodded, feeling my stomach twist slightly.

“Milan’s fiancé, Kelsey, had feelings for Patrice. No one knew but Tera. We’ve never spoken about it in great detail, so some of it’s a little vague, but Tera found out that Kelsey and Patrice were close. Bergy didn’t have mutual feelings, but Kelsey had a thing for him. And then Milan came to me freaked out one day about Tera, saying this crazy stuff about how she’s nothing but a deceitful bitch. I think Tera tried warning Milan about Kelsey and he just didn’t want to believe it…

“And I got so angry. Looch said some fucked up shit about Tera, I got defensive, and didn’t think about it and called out Kelsey and Patrice. Milan took it the totally wrong way and attacked Patrice, thinking that Bergy was trying to steal his girl. They had their fight and didn’t talk for a long time. I mean, you see how proud Looch is. It was impossible for him to admit that he was wrong.”

Blake and I walked side by side for a long time, lapping the hotel what felt like a dozen long times over. A frigid silence enveloped us as the entire picture fell together and I was instantly given a full powerful picture of this mystery girl called Tera. She was the spark that ignited to gunpowder barrel that burst the proverbial ship to pieces. And there I was, walking side-by-side with Blake, contemplating the idea that I could be that spark if I didn’t perform to perfection.