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Matt
The Renegades were playing Tampa, and they were up by two in the second period. Kaden O’Conner was in goal and was killing it. O’Conner had only let in one goal, but the Renegades hadn’t been much help. Tampa had managed to invade Pittsburgh’s end of the ice way too many times tonight, and the Renegades appeared helpless to stop them. Their only savior was O’Conner in goal.
Matt covered his man, as Tampa again tried to rush the Renegades goal. Harrison was in front of O’Conner, defending their goalie and trying to keep guys out of the goal crease. He was picking players off left and right, the second they touched O’Conner.
Looking to the puck that was pushed into the corner, Matt’s head was down as he rushed to get it. But just as he slapped the puck to clear it out of their zone, he was shoved into the boards, and his shoulder burned. He crumpled to the ice while the pain surged though his body.
Tyler had jumped on the puck after Matt cleared it, and he took it down to the Tampa net. Matt missed how it unfolded, but between Kris and Ty, the Renegades got another goal. Right now, Matt was only worried about peeling himself up off the ice and getting to the bench.
Once seated on the bench, he bent over in agony, resting his elbows on his thighs. Trying to work through the pain so that he could get back out there, he concentrated only on his breathing, staying in that bent-over position until he heard Coach behind him.
“Jasper?” Coach Walker called. “You good?”
Matt didn’t look back at Coach Walker. He stayed bent over. The pain centered in his shoulder wasn’t dissipating the way he expected. This wasn’t good. Matt hadn’t felt one hundred percent in a long time, but he nodded to Coach out of habit.
“Yeah, that’s why you’re still hunched over, right? Cause you’re just fine.” Coach Walker leaned down closer to Matt. “I call bullshit. Head back to the dressing room and check in with Brownie. And we’ll see you back out here once he gives you the all clear.”
There was no arguing with Coach. When he said to go with the trainer, the player just went. No questions asked. Begrudgingly, Matt moved off the bench and limped back to the dressing room. Brownie, the team trainer followed.
Matt’s hip ached from the collision, and his shoulder seethed with pain. His gait surely gave away the severity of his injuries, as Brownie followed him down the tunnel to the dressing room.
“Jasper,” Scott Brown, known to them all as Brownie, spoke from behind Matt. “It’s almost the third period, you’re banged up. Why don’t you just hit the showers, and then I’ll check you out?”
“I’m not done yet, Brownie,” Matt grumbled.
“No one is saying you are, bud. Tell me you’re not banged up?”
Banged up was an understatement, and Brownie knew that. Matt couldn’t deny what his body was telling him, that he needed to hit the showers and sit out the rest of the night. Not happy with his reality, Matt grumbled. “Fine. I’ll meet you in your office.”
Matt showered quickly, even though his body ached. He clenched his jaw against the anger that burned inside him. It wasn’t supposed to happen his way. He was supposed to come back from Wilkes-Barre and have a healthy rest of the season. He didn’t want to run into the guys while they were in the room for intermission, so he had to get in and out of the shower and locker room before then. He felt sorry enough for himself; he didn’t need to see that same look on the guys’ faces, too.
Matt was showered, dressed, and in the trainer’s office before the horn blew, signifying the end of the second period. Matt shut the office door and hid from everyone, as they filed into the locker room for intermission.
Matt heard talking outside the office, and then Brownie finally swung the door open. “So what hurts, Matt? Or should I ask, what doesn’t hurt? ’Cause, yeah, I can tell.”
“I’m fine.”
“I heard you tell Coach Walker that. I’m still not buying it.” Brownie clamped his hand down on Matt’s shoulder with purpose.
Matt didn’t see the move coming, and it made him stand straight up and yell out in pain. “C’mon, Brown! Was that fucking necessary?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Brownie snickered and motioned to the exam table. “Now hop up there, and let’s see what else is going on.”
Matt groaned, not because it hurt to slide onto the exam table, because it did. He groaned because he was pissed at how bad his body hurt. It wasn’t supposed to be like this yet. He had a lot of playing years left in him, so he thought. Guys his age didn’t start each day and end each day in the same uncomfortable pain. He was still in the prime of his life. It wasn’t fair that his body had started failing him so much sooner than other guys.
Brownie shone a little flashlight into Matt’s eyes, checking for a concussion. But all it did was irritate Matt.
“Okay, good. Lie back.”
I don’t want to lie back; I don’t want to be here. I want to be out on the ice. Matt grunted in defiance, still hunched over in a sitting position.
Brownie sighed and took a half step back, dropping his hands to his sides. “Look, Matt, I get that your job is to never let down that tough exterior but give it a break for just a minute. I know you’re a badass, but check your attitude, okay? I have a job to do. Now lie back, so I can see what kind of damage you did out there.”
Matt was never very good at taking orders, which was maybe partly why his marriage imploded. He rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed breath before reluctantly complying.
“Good. Now let’s see what’s going on.” Brownie pushed on various leg muscles before he hit a spot at Matt’s hip that made him jump. With a knowing sound, Brownie checked Matt’s ribs and shoulders. The pressure of Brownie’s thumb pressing on Matt’s shoulder made Matt grimace and jerk away from the trainer’s hand.
“Fuck...” Matt grumbled through gritted teeth.
“Ah, okay then. I think we need to take a closer look at this shoulder. There doesn’t seem to be any fracture; it just looks like that same separated shoulder issue you’ve been dealing with the last two seasons. You should ice that and call the physical therapist about getting a massage. The hip, yes, I think you just need to rest it. You’ve had trouble with that for a while, and I don’t think it’s something that’s going to go away, but it’s not too concerning. The hip is a stable joint, and I’m sure you’ll just deal with the pain anyway.”
Matt sat up and hopped off the table, irritated. His head pounded, and his face was hot. “I know what needs done.” His words were short, as he tried to push by Brownie, which made his shoulder scream in pain. “I’ll rest. I’ll be fine in the morning.” Matt knew his words were far from true, but he was not about to admit that.
Brownie stepped aside and put his hands up in defeat. “Okay. You do what you need to do, Jasper. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Matt grumbled, as he stormed out of the office. He grabbed his hockey bag and hurried to the exit. He already knew that there was no sleep in his future. There was only one thing Matt wanted to do, and it would, no doubt, dull the pain.
SITTING IN HIS FAVORITE bar, Matt had drank enough that the pain was no longer an issue. It just so happened that this bar was also a strip club, but he wasn’t there for the girls. He never came here for the girls. He didn’t need strippers, when he could have any fangirl that he wanted. The Cat House was a place where the main focus was the naked women, so he could easily slip by unnoticed, no one bugging him for selfies or autographs. He could sit alone in the corner and be left in peace, unlike most other bars in the area.
He was a good customer; management had given him a tab and let him just unwind and drink until he fell off the barstool. Then they’d just call him a taxi home. Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable with a place that enabled his bad habits, but right now he didn’t care.
He slammed his empty glass on the bar and slurred his request. “Another!”
“Mr. Jasper.” A large young man behind the bar stepped in front of the female bartender. “I think you’ve had enough.”
Matt sneered. “Kid, you must be new here. But you know who I am, so I’ll give you points for that. Amanda here,” Matt said, pointing to the female bartender, “has been serving me for a few years now. Amanda knows what I like to drink, and she’s very good at knowing when I’ve had enough. She calls me a cab and sends me home. Of course, she gets a big tip for all her troubles. And everyone wins.”
Matt had Kris’ and Tyler’s names at the top of his speed dial, but Kris had a family, and Tyler was not only his captain, but married to one of their PR people. Matt knew if he called either of them, they’d be more than happy to help him out, but he felt like he needed to keep them out of his mess of a life.
Matt saw no flaw in his plan. Apparently, Amanda didn’t either, because she seemed as annoyed at the new bouncer as Matt was. The guy was getting in the way of the large bar tab Matt would surely rack up, and the abundant tip that he was sure to give Amanda for her excellent service.
“Amanda, are you sure this guy isn’t bothering you?” the young bouncer asked, not looking convinced.
Matt was still thinking clearly enough to be annoyed by this rookie. “Look, Skippy, she knows I’m only here for the booze. And she’d never hesitate to kick my ass if I needed it.”
He could’ve elaborated, but why bother? Amanda knew that he was only here to drink. Of course, he enjoyed admiring her, but that was as far as he went these days. In the early days after Lindsay left, he spent his time at local night clubs with random hockey bunnies. Matt wasn’t proud of his actions while intoxicated, but he never needed to pay for sex, and didn’t intend on starting now.
Now his body ached; he was worn and tired. Without having Maddy to reach out to, his bad mood simmered. Old habits die hard, and he went right to the bottom of the bottle.
“It’s fine,” Amanda told the new bouncer. “Matt means no harm. And he knows that I throw a mean right hook if he gets out of line.” She smiled sweetly.
The burly kid must’ve been satisfied, because he backed off.
“Remind me to give you a bigger tip tonight, Amanda. You’ve always got my back. Thanks,” Matt said, before downing the new shot she had poured him. She wasn’t only his bartender, but she listened to him talk. He could talk about everything that was bothering him. She was pretty good in the advice department, too, but she also never told him what to do. Maybe she sensed that he wasn’t very receptive to being bossed around. “I don’t have the best luck with females lately.”
“Please.” Amanda huffed. “One word: bunnies.”
“Bunnies are different. They see a hockey player and nothing more. Some of them are vainer about notches in their bedpost than some guys I know. I think I might be destined to bachelor status for the rest of my days.”
“Matt, give yourself some credit. You still got that rugged, sexy look going on. There’s a market for that, you know. I know, I know, you say you’re old and broken, blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all before, and I still don’t believe it. What I see is a very attractive man, too afraid to put himself out there for fear of rejection. Dude, you need to move on. What about that lady friend of yours? Maddy?”
“Maddy?” Why would she bring Maddy up in the same breath as him needing to move on? “We’re just friends... She’s just a good friend.”
“Fine, you keep telling yourself that. You’ve mentioned her name at least a dozen times since you’ve been sitting here.”
Matt didn’t like what Amanda was insinuating, even if those exact thoughts had been going through his brain since his dinner with Maddy in Wilkes-Barre. “What are you trying to say?”
Amanda shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing, nothing at all. I’m just saying it might be long past time that you moved on.”
Matt shook his head; he wasn’t so sure. “I dunno...”
“Why not? Your ex sure has—” Amanda abruptly shut up, biting her lip as if she wanted to take her words back. Or maybe she’d let that bit of information slip on purpose.
“What was that?” Matt snapped to attention.
Amanda’s comment surprised him, and if he was being honest with himself, her words stung a bit. She was usually good to him and made it a practice to always be on his side, and she never spoke of Lindsay. She knew about everything that had happened, but she’d always refrained from voicing her opinion.
“I said, I think it’d be good for you to move on. It’s time.” Amanda’s body language showed she wasn’t going to back down from the taboo topic she’d brought up, but her expression begged for his understanding.
“No, and you know that’s not what I’m asking about. Spill it, Amanda. What do you know?” There was more behind what Amanda chose not to say. He shouldn’t care, but he did.
She sighed, but begrudgingly gave in. “Fine. I follow various hockey teams on social media, but you know me, I’m in it for the game, not the guys. And I happened to come across your ex.”
Why was my ex-wife on a hockey page?
The cook, Max, popped his head out of the order window of the bar’s kitchen. “His ex? Yeah, she’s shacking up with some guy out of Boston.” As his eyes met Matt’s, he added, “So I hear...”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Max, you’re an asshole. Go back into your kitchen-hole.”
Max waved his hand at Amanda. “Eh, I’ve been called worse.” With that, he disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Sorry, Matt,” Amanda said, frowning. She wiped the counter down, apparently avoiding his gaze. “Shacking up? Do people even say that anymore?”
“Whatever, and what Max said wasn’t your fault. I don’t really care what my ex is up to.” Deep down it did bother him, but that was his problem, not Amanda’s. He had heard the rumors. He knew what people were saying.
What bothered him most was that it appeared Lindsay had moved on, while he was still sitting here, drowning his sorrows. Maybe Amanda was right, and he did need to move on.
“Chin up, Matt.” Amanda smiled, refilling his glass. “You might not believe me, but you’re still a hunk, and you will find that special lady.”
Matt chugged the liquid almost as fast as she could pour it. “I don’t know about that. You know I’m still holding out for you, Amanda.” Matt winked, joking. That’s what he was best at, turning something serious into a joke and changing the subject.
“I know, and I’ll always be the one that was just out of your reach,” Amanda teased.
After all the time Matt had spent in this bar, a unique friendship had blossomed between the two of them. As long as Matt didn’t try to hit on her, she had his back. And he respected that.
When he’d first met her, he was a sloppy drunk, and had tried his alcohol-driven charms on her. She had promptly put him in his place and threatened to kick his ass if he did it again. From that point on, they were friends, and he had never hit on her again.
After a few more drinks, Matt grew quiet. His body was numb for now, and his brain silent. His shoulder no longer hurt, and nor did his hip. This was the escape he relied on the alcohol for.
“Just don’t give up. There’s someone out there for everyone. Didn’t your mama ever tell you that?”
“What?” He heard Amanda’s words, but his brain was now slow to comprehend them. That was the only downside to this numb state of bliss.
Too many shots later, the room spun and his ears rang. Even drunk, he knew it was time to stop. Perhaps that was a sixth sense he should start listening to.
Amanda returned to his end of the bar after waiting on a few customers. “All right, buddy. You’re on water now.”
“What?” Matt sloppily reached for the beer bottle that Amanda snatched out of his reach.
“Here,” Amanda said, as she placed a bottle of water in front of him. “Stay hydrated.”
“Not fair.” Matt pouted. “Speaking of how awesome I am,” Amanda said. “You’ve had more than enough. Let me call you a cab. And I think you owe me a handsome sized tip. That is what you said, right?”
Matt begrudgingly handed his keys to Amanda. He didn’t like being told what to do, but she was looking out for him, and it was better than bothering his friends. Matt waited at the bar for his cab while sipping on a bottle of water. A new dancer kept giving him the eye, and as much as he hoped it was a mirage due to his high alcohol intake, unfortunately, it was real.
“Amanda, I’m going to wait out front. That newbie over there keeps looking at me, and it’s disturbing. Can you please fill her in on the rules? AKA, leave me alone?” He held his hand out for his keys.
“I will absolutely fill her in. But I can’t in good conscience give you your keys back. I will however, give them to Andy.” Amanda waved for Andy to come to the bar. “Andy, can you wait for his cab out front with Mr. Jasper?” She dropped the keys into the bouncer’s hand.
“Amanda, I really am fine. I’ll walk home, but can I just have my keys?” He held out his hand, hoping she’d hand them over.
Amanda shook her head. “I doubt you live close enough to walk home. You can argue with me all you want, but it’s house rules. I can’t give you your keys, and you know that.”
Matt huffed. “Fine.” He knew it was house rules, but it didn’t mean he liked it. “All right, Andy. Let’s go outside!” Matt waved towards the exit, except his exaggerated movements threw him off balance, and he stumbled into a bar stool. Maybe he wasn’t as fine as he thought.
“Fuck!” His knee burned after stumbling into the bar stool. He gave Amanda a thumbs up and called out as he kept moving to the exit, “I’m good.”
Matt slowly made his way out to the sidewalk, with Andy behind him. He was used to security; maybe that was why he wasn’t too annoyed by Andy’s presence. The chill in the air nipped thought his hooded sweatshirt, but when he looked up and down the street, the cab was nowhere to be found.
“Matt?” A familiar female voice called from across the street.
Madison. His friend and physical therapist. He didn’t know she was already back in town. Matt waved at her hoping she wouldn’t come over to see him in this state. Maddy didn’t care for indulgent drinking, and he always tried to respect that. She was with a few women in front of a restaurant. After watching him for a few moments, she crossed the street to where he was. “Heeey, Maddy.” He was trying hard to act sober in front of her, but even he knew it wasn’t working.
“Have a little too much to drink tonight, Matt?” Maddy pulled her jacket together and zipped it up, folding her arms over her middle as if she was cold.
“What are you doing here in Pittsburgh?”
“I only got back today. I was planning to call you on the weekend and see if you wanted to do something.”
He frowned and swayed a little as he thought. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”
“Well... I was hoping to surprise you.” Her lips pressed together tightly, as she looked over his shoulder at the Cat House sign hanging over the bar entrance. “I guess I’m the one who’s surprised.”
They’d been friends for about a year, and he’d never comprehended why she continued to hang around with him. Obviously, he was attracted to her, because anyone with a pulse would be. She was a gorgeous woman. And she was nice, friendly, and caring. But that was just the problem—she was too good to be with him. He was on the verge of being washed up. Add in his poor judgement when it came to alcohol. He was beyond help, so she was wasting her time with him.
“Waiting for someone, Matt?” Maddy asked.
“Yeah. A cab,” Matt said. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, but I’m glad to see you. Maybe we can hook up tomorrow?” He was sure he had rushed all of his thoughts into one.
“I was just having dinner with some friends from work, catching up. But dinner’s over, and I told them I’d call them later.” She tilted her head to the side, and a small smile lit up her face. “How about I give you a ride home? I’m much more reliable than a cab, and I probably play better music.”
“Maddy.” Matt laughed, trying to remain his macho self. “I’m good.”
She shook her head at his insistence. He couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or amused at him. “Fine. So, pay me what you’d pay a cab, and we’ll call it even.” She turned her attention to Andy and held out her hand for his keys.