What You Don't Know, Can't Hurt You

“Would you mind explaining to me what the FUCK THAT WAS?” I shouted as soon as he opened the door. I saw him sigh and he came and sat down next to me.

“Listen, I don’t want any of the boys knowing about you. It’s like, whenever they find out I’m fucking someone they always somehow track her down and give us both hell. There’s a reason I’m not introducing you to them – I don’t want them to know about you. Yet, anyway. I mean, we’re only having fun right? If the guys find out they’re going to make a big deal about it and it’s just annoying.”

“That’s your deal, bud. Sorry, but I’m going to bring home whoever I want and I’m not going to fucking ask for their resume first. You also looked extremely pissed, which is bullshit. If you’re getting mad at me for bringing someone home then this ends now,” I replied.

“I wasn’t pissed that you brought someone home. I was pissed it was someone that I actually have to see around and that could bring it up in the locker room. Luckily, you found a gullible one and I convinced him you were my cousin. He promised he’d never touch you again and that he’d never mention this to anyone.”

“You convinced him I was your cousin? Two things I don’t like about that. One: fucking you is going to make me feel disgusting now. Two: I shouted that ‘we weren’t together’ during that whole mess. He didn’t find that weird?”

“I told him you were talking about him and not me. As for the weird sex thing, I’m sure you’ll get over it. Now, I’m hungry and I’m going for lunch. Are you coming?”

“Fine. Let me put on some actual clothes first,” I said, standing up.

“Okay,” he said. Before I shut my door I heard him say, “I’m sorry for yelling, by the way. I was caught off guard.”

“Whatever,” I shouted back. “Next time, just wait for me to actually respond to a text message. Much less awkward.”

It wasn’t long before we were sitting in a small diner somewhere on the outskirts of Philadelphia. “I swear, you take me to the creepiest restaurants,” I whispered. “Obviously nobody’s going to bother you – nobody ever sets foot in these places.”

“I like quiet,” he responded, not meeting my eyes.

“Says a famous hockey star who loves to go out and party… You like quiet. Right.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Anyway, speaking of going out… Wanna do something next weekend? I happened to look up your schedule and I know you’re home and off.”

He smirked at me. “Oh, you just ‘happened’ to look it up? I guess so. What were you thinking?” he asked, his mouth shifting into a mischievous grin.

“My God, you’re horny,” I replied with a scoff. “Can’t we do things other than sleep with each other? I mean, if we’re going to be hanging out this much I’m going to need a break every now and then. I always go out on Saturday nights and was going to suggest that you join.”

“That sounds fun. Can I pick the place?”

“I’m going to say yes but I swear to God, if you make me drive 2 hours to get there you’re paying for the cab.”

“Sounds good to me!” he said, smiling.

The next week passed slowly, and without any messages from Brayden. Saturday came around and sure enough, I got a text mid-afternoon. “I know the perfect place for tonight. Invite your friends or whatever. I’ll cover cabs. Be at your place at 6 with food.”

“Good God. So it is going to take us 2 hours to get there? It better be good. Ps, get Chinese.”

“Worth it, I promise. And k. That’s what I was thinkin anyways.”

I quickly texted Chelsea and the other girls and told them the plan then started getting ready. Before I knew it everybody was arriving, we were eating, drinking and headed out the door.

The night was predictable (aside from having to drive an hour and a half to an okay club). We all got drunk, my friends mostly picked up and headed to some guy’s house regardless of where we were and the ones who didn’t were put into a cab by Brayden and sent home. “Why aren’t we getting a cab?” I asked him as one drove away.

“Well, you’re extremely drunk,” – which was true; I honestly didn’t know how he even understood what I had asked – “and I figured an hour and half drive you end with you passing out so I got us a room,” he said with a grin.

“Good idea,” I slurred, starting to walk away from him. He quickly caught my arm and I could hear him laughing. “This way,” he said as I stumbled back towards him. I heard him sigh and finally say, “Here, hop on.”

“What?” I asked, completely confused.

“I’m giving you a piggy back Jory. You can’t walk 2 blocks like that.”

“THAT SOUNDS FUN!” I shouted and he started cracking up.

“Holy shit you’re wasted.” He helped me climb up on his back and it seemed like we were at the hotel in seconds. Apparently Brayden had checked in earlier that day so we went straight to the elevator and up to the room. Brayden put me on the bed and then I heard his phone ringing. He went in the bathroom to take it and I THOUGHT I heard him say, “Hey, babe. What’s up?” After that, I blacked out and couldn’t remember anything else until the next day.

I rolled over to an empty bed and the hangover hit me like a ton of bricks. I got up, ran to the bathroom and started throwing up. After about 15 minutes, I was finally feeling a little better so I headed back out to the room. It started to occur to me that Brayden wasn’t there so I took a look around and found a note on the desk.

“Hope you’re feeling better! Went to get coffee and food. Be back soon.”

I climbed back into bed and quickly fell back asleep. I woke up a while later to Brayden coming in through the door (looking very well rested) with – thank Jesus – McDonalds and coffee.

“Oh my God,” I half whispered. “I think I love you.”

He laughed. “I technically can’t eat it but I figured it’d help you out. How you feeling?”

“Like shit,” I said, realizing my voice was half gone. “What the hell happened last night?”

“Well, you drank every drop of alcohol in the bar, I gave you a piggy back here and then you, uh, passed out. That pretty much sums it up I think.”

“Well, as long as you didn’t take advantage of the poor little drunk girl I guess I can handle that.” He looked horrified. “Jesus, Bray. I was kidding.”

“Right,” he said. “I know that. It’s just, you really don’t remember anything?”

“Uh, no?” I said, caught off guard. “I remember getting back to the hotel and getting in bed but that’s it. Why? Did something happen?”

“No! Um, no. I guess I just didn’t realize you drank enough to black out. Nah, nothing happened. Everything’s good!” he said, smiling.

I narrowed my eyes and looked at him, feeling like something was off. “Alright,” I said slowly. “That was a bit of overkill but I’ll believe you…”

“Oh, shut up and eat,” he said, smiling even bigger. “Everything’s fine.”

All of this happened about 4 months ago. Since then, everything really has been fine. Brayden and I have been “having fun” ever since. We never really put a label on it seeing as neither of us really committed. I’ve been bringing home other guys and I don’t really know – or care – what Brayden’s doing when he’s not with me. After four months, weird things – such as excessive phone calls and him suddenly needing to be somewhere else – started to seem normal and they were no big deal. They were part of who Brayden Schenn was. So, when he texted me a few nights ago and invited me out to a club within city limits, I was both surprised and excited. Not only was I going to be able to actually sleep in my own bed after drinking, maybe he was finally going to let me actually meet some of his friends – something I had yet to do. I accepted his explanation on that complicating things but I figured maybe after all this time, he was ready to let us get a little more serious and, thus, more complicated.

I got showered and stuff then threw back on my pajamas to wait for Brayden to bring some food and help me pick out what to wear. He arrived about fifteen minutes after I put a movie on so we quickly settled into our now comfortable arrangement of eating Chinese food cuddled up on my couch. Once the movie was over and we had finished off a few beers I was feeling a pretty good buzz.

“You aren’t even dressed yet,” Brayden said, looking down at me. “I wanna go in like, an hour.”

“Well, we’ve got some time for a bit of fun then…” I said slowly, leaning up to kiss him. He kissed back and we made out for about a half an hour. As soon as he started pushing for more I stood up and walked to my room. “Come help me pick out something to wear, hun. I need to get ready.”

He sat there and stared at me for a few seconds then started to smirk. “You can be such a bitch sometimes,” he said, shaking his head. He stood up, walked into my room and flopped down on the bed. “Wear a dress. They’re easiest to take off.”

“Just for that, I’m wearing shorts and a button up shirt,” I said, trying to be a brat. I started looking through my closet and realized that I really had more dresses to choose from but, being stubborn, I chose the shortest pair of dressy shorts I owned – which happened to have 4 buttons – and the button up shirt with the smallest buttons in my wardrobe. I got dressed and turned towards Brayden – who was fast asleep. “Hey, asshole!” I yelled. “Wake the fuck up!”

“Hm, what?” he nearly jumped out of bed. “Oh, God. You scared me. You look alright. I still think you should wear a dress.”

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t care what you think,” I said with a smirk. “I could take home any guy at this bar tonight. Don’t assume it’s gonna be you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “You ready?” We set out on our way and soon enough we were back at the bar where we had actually met.

“God, I’m happy to be somewhere familiar,” I said, smiling at him and then leaving him behind to head to the bar. We did a few shots and it wasn’t long before we were on the dance floor, acting like a couple of horny teenagers. Brayden started kissing my neck and whispered in my ear, “How bad is it that we’ve only been here for an hour and I already want to leave.”

“You go right ahead,” I said, laughing. “I’m not going anywhere though.” I grabbed his hand and walked back to the bar. “Pornstar for this one and I’ll have a beer, thanks,” Brayden said to the bartender.

Suddenly I felt something cold and wet running down my back. “Here’s your fucking Pornstar, you bitch!” I heard someone yell. Brayden turned around and looked like a deer in headlights. Some girl slapped him across the face and turned to me. “What’s it like being the other woman, whore?”