Winners

I was euphoric, having won my first ever Stanley Cup, in only my second year of playing in the NHL too. Actually, euphoric didn’t even cover how I felt. Ecstatic, elated, crazy excited, all mixed into one and I still don’t think that would accurately describe how happy I was.

After over a week of straight celebration and packing, I arrived home for the first time since Christmas. My mom immediately burst into tears when she caught sight of me in the airport. “Oh, honey,” she sobbed. “I’m so proud of you!” This was a repeat of what had happened after the final game.

Grinning crazily, I swept her up in my arms. “Thanks, Mum,” my voice broke in my excitement. Next I moved on to Dad, who stood there stoically, smiling with tears glimmering in his blue eyes that I had inherited.

“I have never been happier to have you for a son,” Dad murmured in my ear, clutching me tightly before letting me go. “Now let’s go home.” I couldn’t help chuckling. Apparently my winning the Stanley Cup hadn’t changed his brisk, efficient attitude. Letting my parents help with my bags, I followed them out of the airport, happy to be home. Now it was time for a summer of training, sleeping, drinking, partying and best of all, getting girls. With a Stanley Cup in my name, I figured this summer would be easier than any other.

I wasn’t planning on going out my first night home. For one, I wanted to visit with my parents and my brother, Skylar and for another I’d just spent the past week going out. Yet almost as soon as I’d walked in the door, right after he congratulated me, Skylar pleaded with me to go out with him.

Apparently, he’d made plans to meet this girl tonight and had completely forgotten that it was also the night I was coming home. Now that’s brotherly love. Mom and Dad also encouraged me to go out and reconnect with some old friends, so grumbling good-naturedly I agreed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Skylar repeated as we walked down to Dante’s. I was about to punch him in the face, just to get him to shut up. After being a fighter in hockey, my short fuse had gotten even shorter. I almost wish we had skates on because then it would be OK if I gave him a love tap.

Walking into Dante’s, I saw that Skylar had invited some old friends. “Hey man,” Tyler called out. We shared a bro-hug. Tyler had been my best friend though high school and had been with me through a lot. I was really glad to see him after so long. He’d been one of the only people I’d called the night of winning the Cup.

Greg, Luke and Eric were also there. They all grinned and congratulated me, but other than that, acted exactly like they used to. For that, I was relieved. All too frequently nowadays, people always acted like it was a big deal to even freaking talk to me. I expected it would be worse now, after the big win.

As soon as we’d sat down in our booth, two very, very hot girls were there. “Hi, my name is Harper, what can I get you tonight?” The brunette with silver-grey eyes asked softly.

The fiery redhead butted in as well, “And I’m Savannah. If there’s anything Harper can’t get for you, then I’m here.” She ended this with a flirtatious wink, looking directly at me.

Oh fuck. A puck bunny already. I looked Savannah over, at least she was hot. Some of the girls who came after me… Ugh. No way. “Thanks babe,” I smirked. Then I turned to stare at her co-worker, Harper. I don’t know why, but somehow she was even more attractive than Savannah. “I’ll have a Keith’s, please,” I told her, watching her cheeks flush prettily at my attention.

I want her, I decided. A summer conquest, maybe? The entire time she took our orders, I couldn’t stop staring. Why couldn’t I stop staring? It made me feel like a creep, which was unusual because what guy didn’t stare at a hot girl? But there was something almost… innocent about her. It made me want to protect her from guys who wanted to fuck her like I did.

Holy hell. I couldn’t help but suck in my breath quietly as she walked away. That was one fine ass she had, shown off by her tight Silver jeans. She wasn’t the perfect slim girl, but she definitely had curves going on in all the right places. I couldn’t stop myself from wishing that she wasn’t working so I could take her out on the dance floor and feel her all over.

“That’s Harper Lane, she’s really into horses and all that shit,” Eric told me, noticing that I was also appreciating her as she strode away. “I’ve been trying to nail her for a long time. She keeps telling me she doesn’t do one night stands though.”

I almost punched him. I don’t know why. I think I need some anger management classes. It was kind of hypocritical for me to be angry over the fact that he was acting just like she was someone to fuck anyway – I’d had plenty of one night stands. I knew what they entailed, and that was all I wanted. So why I did I care if he sounded disrespectful? At the same time, I felt my heart plummet. If she didn’t do one night stands, I was never going to touch her, because I didn’t do anything but.

The main reason I didn’t date was hockey. Dating took time away from my passion and I was just starting out. I had plenty of time to find the perfect woman, settle down and have kids later in life. The second reason was I plain wasn’t interested. Who wanted to do all that fancy, romance shit when you could just fuck ‘em and leave ‘em? And the third reason was I would constantly doubt that she was with me for me. After all, I’d just won a Stanley Cup. I had a solid position with the LA Kings and I was looking at a very loaded lifestyle. Gold diggers’ paradise.

When Harper came back with our beers, I tried to force myself to not look at her. She doesn’t do one night stands, you don’t do dating, it can never work Kyle, but when our hands brushed as she handed me my drink, I felt the spark go straight to my groin. Fuck it. I’ll do it anyway.

----

A soft knocking on my door woke me up. “Kyle? Hun? I made waffles,” my mom’s voice floated through the wood.

“I’ll be right down,” I called back, completely awake now. Mom’s waffles were the best. I’d missed them so much. One time, I had even attempted to make them myself from a recipe online… let’s just say, I had a bit of a mess to clean up after that.

Slipping some sweats on over my boxers, I hurried downstairs. “Please tell me there are strawberries from the yard too,” I prayed out loud as I entered our sunny dining room.

Mom had a garden out back and everything that came out of it was organic and all that shit, not that I really cared, but it tasted amazing. The strawberries were my favorite. When I was a kid, I used to sit out back for hours, picking the heavy red berries so Mom could use them for cooking and baking. I probably ate more than half of what actually ended up in the basket.

“You’re in luck,” Mom said smiling happily. She handed me a massive plate of waffles, topped with freshly cut strawberries, whipped cream and maple syrup. My mouth was watering at the sight.

Sitting down, I dug into them, stopping every now and then to savour the delicacy. “Thanks Mom,” I said in between two bites.

“My pleasure sweetie,” she replied, kissing me on the head like she always did when I was a kid. I think I caught a glimmer of tears in her honest grey eyes. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

“And I’m happy to be home,” I answered honestly. It felt great to just be able to relax. I mean, I’d miss the guys and hockey, but I also got a break from all the teasing and training almost every day. I had also really missed my doting family.

Half-way through my waffles, Skylar stomped down the stairs, looking hung over. The girl he’d made plans with, Ally, had ended up fawning over me instead of him all night. He’d been pretty pissed about it all and had drowned his anger in alcohol.

“Morning Mom,” he grumbled, grabbing his plate off the counter and completely ignoring me. Guess he was still sour over last night. Jerk. It wasn’t my fault she was more interested in the famous brother who played in the NHL. He shouldn’t be mad at me though, I hadn’t paid her any attention. Plus he was the one that had begged me to go out.

Not that I had minded, especially not after meeting Harper. Thinking of her reminded me of my dream last night. I had a foggy recollection of the two of us, naked and writhing. I’d woken up at like, five with a massive hard-on that I’d had to deal then and there.

I’d never had a specific someone star in my sex dreams before, they’d always been hot figures with blurry faces. Jeez. Obviously I needed to get in this girl’s pants and soon. Or I just might go crazy.

“What are your plans for today, Kyle?” Skylar finally addressed me.

“Dunno,” I shrugged. “Depends on what comes up.”

“Well everyone’s heading over to the lake if you want to come,” he offered.

I paused while I thought about it. There would probably be a lot of people at the lake today, it being so nice and nearing the end of the high school days. That meant I might get mobbed by fans. Or it could just be a chill, fun time with some friends. There was even a possibility that Harper would be there with her friends as well. I would be able to introduce myself and start the crusade of becoming her bed buddy.

“Sure, I’ll come.”

----

She never showed up. I’d spent the whole day scanning the waterfront, hoping for a glimpse of her shiny mahogany hair and curvy body. There were countless other girls vying for my attention, but none of them caught my interest the way Harper had last night.

“Who do you keep looking for, bro?” Tyler asked. He laid, stretched out beside me, tanning his pasty-ass chest.

“Nobody,” I lied. “Just watchin’.”

Tyler knew I wasn’t being honest, but he didn’t call me out on it. Maybe I’d explain to him later, when there wasn’t like fifty girls trying their best to show off their tits and get an invite back to my house. Like that’d ever happen. My mom would smack me upside the head and tell me to bring a respectable girl home.

“C’mon, Kyle!” One girl, I think her name was Tiffany, hollered. “We need another person for volleyball.”

“Wanna go play for me, Ty?”

Tyler snorted. “You know how much I hate any game that involves a ball. Go let the needy girls ogle you. They want to be able to Facebook about how they ‘got to play beach ball with Kyle Clifford, ohmygod’ and how you’re ‘soooo dreamy.’ It’d be rude of me to deprive them of that.”

Scoffing at Tyler’s dramatics, I got up and headed over to the sand court. I heard furious whispers as I walked up that abruptly stopped when I arrived.

Tiffany stepped up to me, laying a bronzed hand on my bicep. “So, you’re going to be on my team,” she quipped, giving me a brilliant smile. Over her shoulder I saw some of the other girls flash her dirty looks. They had lost the fight of having me on their team.

“Okay,” I smirked. I couldn’t care less. Playing volleyball wasn’t going to make me want any of them. It’d interesting to see them try to be sexy.

It wasn’t just interesting. It was downright ridiculous. Some of them, thankfully, were stable girls who just wanted to enjoy a game of volleyball. The rest of them, on the other hand… Holy fuck. They were acting like we were in a fuckin’ strip club.

They were constantly grazing their overexposed breasts with their hands while staring at me suggestively and when they were bending down to pick up the ball, they’d do it nice and slow, sticking out their barely covered ass in hopes I’d be staring at it. Like, grow up. I’m a guy, if I’m gonna be staring, I will be, I don’t need you to force it in my face. Especially not when there’s little kids running all over the place, they were gonna be scarred for life.

Poor kids. I think I saw some of the parents shaking their heads and dragging unhappy, confused kids away from the lake. Sorry your play day was cut short, bud, I thought.

Finally, it just went too far. This one blonde girl, Abigail, actually tore off her own bathing suit top by “accident” exposing her rather tiny tits to the entire world. “Holy shit,” Tiffany cursed. “Abby! Cover up!”

Abigail did what she was bidden. Just in a very, unhurried, leisurely way.

“Tiffany, I think I have to go.” I wasn’t going to deal with this stupid stuff anymore. What some girls did for attention, holy hell. It was fucked up.

The dark-haired girl didn’t look surprised. “Sorry about that,” she apologized sincerely. “I really didn’t expect the skank show to be that bad.”

“It’s alright. I’ll admit, it has gotten worse since the win, though,” I divulged.

Tiffany laughed. “I’d imagine. Well, thanks for playing with us. I’m sure I’ll lose a couple of “friends” over the fact that you actually talked to me even though I didn’t pull off my own top.”

I grinned too. “Well, I’m sorry for making you lose friends.” At least Tiffany was cool and not drooling or going crazy for attention. It almost made the outlandishness worth it. Almost. I still couldn’t get over the fact that they had driven away people with their wantonness. It was disturbing.

“Don’t stress about it. I didn’t like them anyway,” Tiffany smiled. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Yeah, maybe you will.” She wasn’t the girl who’d featured in my dream last night, but maybe once I got Harper out of my system, I could have a fun little run-in with Tiffany.

But first I needed to have Harper.