Your Love is my Drug

“Do you ever realize how much of this shit you drink?” I asked in disbelief, as I put the remaining Gatorade in the fridge, “I mean really, Brent, you go through it like gum.”

He laughed, putting the boxes of cereal in the cupboard, “It’s good. I don’t know why you don’t drink it, your loss.”

“It’s gross, actually,” I said matter-of-factly, reaching down for the egos, “You’re lucky I kiss you after you drink that shit.”

He chuckled, reaching for more groceries, “You’re lucky I kiss you after you drink that tea thing.”

I scoffed, glancing over my shoulder to see him smirking, it was cute, “Excuse me, Seabrook, but that ‘tea thing’ is good for you, and it speeds up your metabolism so you don’t gain as much weight.”

He rolled his eyes, picking up the remaining things and shoving them into the cupboard, “Keep telling yourself that.”

I just shook my head, grinning and shut the fridge. He had to get to practice and I knew we were getting close to the time, but I just wanted to stay in for the rest of the day. I had a tiring morning, rushing to get the groceries so I can get to Patrick’s. I hated these days.

“My bags in the car, so I’m ready to go,” he said, grabbing his jacket, “Are you ready?”

I looked around, there wasn’t anything I’d need, I would be distracted by them, “I’m good, let’s go.”

He smiled and let me walk out first, like a gentleman, and held the door open. I got into the passenger’s seat as he got into the drivers and I felt like I did last year, when there was only one guy in my life- at peace.

*

I sat next to the glass, texting my friend back home who was up to date with my cheating scenario. I told her about my morning visit and though she doesn’t approve, she doesn’t entirely hate me. She’s the only person I can vent to because she’s the only third party that knows- so every little detail is told to her.

I kept glancing up, smiling at number 7, but biting my bottom lip absent mindedly when number 88 looked over. I know that I should be head over heels in love with Brent. He loves me, protects me and would do anything for me, for a while I thought I was, but after a year, you realize that love and being in love is a complete different thing.

I love Brent and I always will, but I’m not in love with him.

I don’t even know how the whole Patrick thing started. I’ve always found him attractive, but who wouldn’t? He’s the bad boy, the one who makes you doubt everything. He’s got the smirk and the mischievous eyes, which complete the package. I liked bad boys... Brent wasn’t even close.

It started with flirting. When nobody was within hearing range, we’d talk to each other like we were single. He was, I wasn’t. Then, one night, after a fight with Brent, I showed up on his doorstep, crying. He comforted me and as we sat on the living room couch, ignoring calls from my boyfriend, he kissed me.

It was totally out of line, even he knew that. He backed up and apologized instantly, but I pulled him back. It’s my fault the three of us are in this mess and it’s my fault that I’m a cheating slut. We didn’t sleep together that night, but after the next fight, which was a mere week later- we did.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I glanced down at the text.

I like Patrick... but he’s not Brent. Think about what you’re doing.

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew she was right. I shouldn’t have stayed with Brent so long if I didn’t love him- and now, everyone else in my life did. Especially her, she wanted me to basically spend the rest of my life with him.

I don’t love Brent... I love Patrick. I know I’m a bitch- but I can’t stop myself.

As soon as it was sent, my eyes darted up to the rink, where his mouth guard was hanging out of his mouth like usual. I smiled softly, he was so cute. He suddenly began to laugh, standing next to Brent, his hands over the top of his stick. Brent was chuckling too.

Why didn’t he feel bad? He was fucking his girlfriend and here he was, acting like everything was perfect. There was no tension, no fear, no guilt, it was as if I had been a faithful girlfriend all along. The sight made me want to puke, things could only be this relaxed for a while... and then the storm comes.

My phone buzzed: Just stop fucking him. Simple... and tell Brent. I think you lust Pat, but you’re truly in love with B. Think about it.

That was another reason I didn’t want anyone to know. People never believe that you’re truly in love with the person you’re cheating with. I’m living proof that it happens, it happened to me. I knew that the majority of people I know would say just that, my relationship with Pat was pure lust. I just wanted him, I was attracted to him, but my heart belonged to Brent.

I decided not to text her back, I didn’t want to fight. Sure, she was right and I should tell Brent, but how exactly do you tell your boyfriend of one and a half years that you’ve been sleeping with his team mate? How do you explain that you haven’t been in love with him, but you didn’t want to hurt him?

Groaning, I sunk in my seat.