I Couldn't Be More Afraid

“Leah! Kitchen! Now!”

“Lay, what’s going on? What did he say?”

I didn’t respond, I just quickly pulled her into the kitchen. I was walking so quickly and I was so flustered that I didn’t notice my tank top starting to slip until Alex yelled, “yo Layla, they’re nice and all, but you’re like a sister to me, so put the girls away.” I laughed thinking of the show I must have just given some of the regulars, then lifted the top of my shirt. Leah was just staring at me, waiting for an answer.

“Now that we’ve fixed your wardrobe malfunction, what the hell happened out there?”

“Dubi just told me that Marc hasn’t gotten laid in over a month.”

“Meaning…since you met.”

“I am in way over my head.”

“Let’s go back out there and just deal with it.”

We went back out into the bar and I immediately took a shot. I knew drinking wouldn’t solve all of my problems, but it would help loosen me up because suddenly, I was extremely tense. I made drinks and flirted with the regulars as I did every other night, all while trying to ignore that Marc and Dubi were sitting at the bar. The more I flirted, the more I could feel Marc’s eyes burning into me.

At one point, I turned and looked and he and Dubi looked to be in the middle of a pretty intense conversation. Who knew what they were talking about, but I kept myself busy so that I didn’t have to care. Leah kept looking at me like I should go over there, but I didn’t want to. Eventually, she left the entire section of the bar alone and the customers were getting annoyed so I knew that I had to serve them. I stopped by the boys and engaged in small talk, I really wasn’t sure what to say. If this was a game, Marc was playing pretty hard.

As 2am approached, we gave last call and started to clean up. The last two people in the bar were Marc and Dubi. Leah and Dubi walked away from Marc and started whispering to each other; although she said she would never flirt with him, that’s what it looked like to me. They continued to whisper and look at me until I glared at Leah to clean up so that we could go home.

“Guys, we have to lock up,” she told them.

“So that means we have to leave?” Marc responded. For the first time that night, I realized that he was drunk. Since I only served him two beers, I had no idea how much he had been drinking. I later learned that Leah was giving him shots and beers all night. We finally escorted the boys out so that we could finish cleaning up and I could finally get home. My mind was still racing, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What were you and Dubes whispering about?”

“Nothing.”

“Because saying nothing doesn’t tell me that you’re hiding something from me.”

“Seriously, Lay, don’t worry about it,” she said with a giggle; I could have pushed it a little bit more, but I didn’t want to think about it. When she got like that, she never really talked and I wasn’t in the mood for talking in circles with her. After we finished cleaning, we went outside to find Marc and Dubi leaning on Dubi’s car, Marc was stumbling a little bit and I found it incredibly amusing.

“Doesn’t Torts set a curfew for you guys?” I asked, referencing their coach.

“We can do whatever we want,” Marc practically slurred.

“Yeah…including getting wasted on Long Island after a game?”

“We’re off tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, but we have practice a four hour practice at 2,” Dubi added.

“He’s your friend,” I said, “you let him get like this.”

“Oh drop it, Layla,” he said, “maybe if you didn’t ignore him all night, he would have stopped,” it was the first time that Dubi really got short with me and I didn’t like it too much. I looked at him and couldn’t really say anything in response. Even Leah was giving me a “you know he’s right” face.

“Will you talk to me now?” Marc asked.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m begging darling please?”

“Lay, talk to him,” Leah practically commanded. I looked at her and couldn’t help but agree, but I wasn’t standing outside in the cold. Although I knew that it was a mistake, I invited Marc back to my apartment to talk so that Dubi could head back into the city. We all parted ways and Marc got into the passenger seat of my car. The drive back to my house was pretty silent, but we knew that once we were back, we would have plenty to say to each other.

We walked in and I showed him the couch and handed him a bottle of water. It took a few minutes for him to even say anything to me. He started by just telling me that my apartment was nice and asked if I watched him on the TV in my living room and the couch was comfortable, it was all drunken ramblings. I knew them too well, usually I was the one spewing the random facts about someone’s apartment. Then out of nowhere his tone changed and the conversation I was dreading began.

“Layla, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought we ended well the other day, then you ignore me again. End the fucking game. We like each other and we’re not 12, so why not act on it? Stop fucking running away.”

“I brought your drunk ass back here tonight, didn’t I?” I was getting a little angry.

“Because Dubi and Leah pretty much told you to. I’m drunk, not stupid. You didn’t bring me back here to bang me on the couch. Don’t look at me like you’re confused. Yeah, the games are fun, but I’m done with you hiding from this. I can’t keep chasing you, but I can’t stay away from you either.”

“We’ll talk about this when you’re sober,” I said sternly.

“No,” he said and with that, I went to my room and shut the door. I wasn’t going to argue about whether or not I was running away and hiding with a drunk. The situation wasn’t supposed to have emotions involved. He wasn’t supposed to be celibate since we met. More than anything, he was not supposed to be drunk in my living room spilling out his heart and yelling at me. He had no idea how afraid I was of giving away my heart; relationships scared me. I had my heart broken only months before by a guy that I was never even dating, I spent my summer bartending and going on first dates that would never lead to anything. I had taught myself how to avoid getting attached and Marc was breaking me down.

I thought about calling Leah, but I knew she would kill me if I did, she probably passed out cold right after work. She would also tell me that I had a good looking professional athlete who I liked drunk in my apartment and more than willing to do anything…and she would be right. I couldn’t deny that he was a good kisser or that he always left me leaving more. I could have asked him if what Dubi said was true, but not when he was drunk. He was so forward with me even from the day we met; the second time I was ever with him, he held me against a wall and if I wasn’t so strong willed, I would have done him in the bathroom. After a while, his sense of entitlement went away and he was a guy that I could really fall for.

I went to bed figuring he would be gone in the morning. He was pissed that I walked away from the conversation and he would probably leave and never want to talk to me again. A few hours later, I woke up in a cold sweat vividly remembering the dream I just had:

I was at MSG in the penalty box with Brandon Dubinsky. He had me pressed up against the glass, both of us naked. My nails were digging into his back while he thrusted hard and fast in and out of me. I could feel every movement and my screams and moans echoed through the box. Then, right before I came, I heard something that sounded like glass breaking. I turned to see a puck had flown through the glass next to me, then I looked behind me onto the ice to see Marc standing in full gear with a stick, staring angrily at us. After seeing him, I turned back and Dubi was sitting on the bench still fully erect, so I climbed on top of him and rode him hard and fast, while he was biting my neck and grabbing my breasts, until I had the most explosive orgasm. Marc was still behind us. That’s when I woke up.

I was in no way attracted to Dubi, he was becoming a friend and I had no idea why I was having hot sex with him in a dream. Marc’s face in the dream was burned into my head. He was hurt and angry, but I didn’t seem to care. A slap shot hit the glass only inches away from me and I just remained interested in banging his best friend.

I texted Leah to call me when she woke up, then went into the bathroom to splash water on my flushed face. I decided that it had been way too long since I had sex if that dream was getting to me that much. When I opened my bedroom door, I saw that Marc was still passed out on my couch, it was only 11, so he had time to get back into the city. He was drunk enough that he might have passed out or he could have just fallen asleep waiting to see if I ever came back out. To be nice, I grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and put it on the coffee table next to a bottle of Advil; I had a feeling he would need it when he woke up.

I pulled out my phone to text Dubi to see if he had any idea of what I should do about his friend.

Me: your friend is passed out on my couch
Dubi: wow, you really wore him out ;)
Me: very funny, I didn’t touch him, he was too drunk
Dubi: Shit whiskey dick. That sucks
Me: didn’t say that, he didn’t try, just talked
Dubi: oh that’s worse
Me: How do I get him home?
Dubi: do me a favor, talk to him sober. End the game.

That last answer wasn’t any help. Wasn’t Marc playing the game harder than I was? How did I become responsible for ending the game? I wanted to trust him and I wanted to give it a chance, but I couldn’t help how afraid I was. I looked over at Marc and he started to move around on the couch. I saw him open his eyes and survey his surroundings; he lifted his head, but it seemed to be an incredibly difficult task for him. I tried not to laugh at his hangover; I had been victim to them many times in the past few years.

He looked at me and grabbed the water and Advil, swallowing the pills down like they were going to save his life. I walked over and he motioned for me to sit down next to him. We had this conversation too many times already. Every time we did though, I cut it short. I never got the part where I talked about my own emotions and Marc knew that. Maybe that was the game, he was trying to break me down…but maybe he really wanted to try?

“So, last night, I was a little drunk.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“And you still wouldn’t admit to liking me.”

“Fine, I like you, there I said it,” we were both speaking softly.

“Don’t make it sound so hideous.”

“You figured me out, Marc, why do you need to keep asking.”

“Fine, you’re afraid of the big, bad hockey player, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t like me as much as I like you.”

“I don’t know, how much do you like me,” I smirked at him.

“Enough to take you out again tonight.”

“Are you sure the hangover won’t be worse after Torts sees you?”

“If I’m weak, you can just take advantage of me after the date.”

“You never asked me on a date.”

“That’s because I already know that you want to go…but if you want the technical asking, Layla, you have a date with Marc Staal tonight, are you going?”

“You make it hard to say yes, sometimes.”

“But you will anyway.”

“Marc…”

“I’ll pick you up at 8, I need to go nurse this hangover before practice.”

“How do you plan to get home?”

“I can take the train.”

“You’ll need a ride to the station.”

I grabbed my car keys and led him back out to my car. We got to the station and before he got out, he leaned over and kissed me. It was the gentlest kiss, his lips just softly brushed against mine. I hated the way he made me feel, but more than that, I hated to lose.