Moving on. Or not

Chase

"Yeah, we're cool," was the last thing she said to me. Two weeks ago. I knew at the time she didn't mean it, but I didn't know why, or that it would last this long. So, what if we only knew each other for a month? I loved spending time with her, watching her get comfortable me, and she even started warming up to the guys. Every time we were together just got better every time. She was starting to be herself more often. She was hilarious, witty yet intelligent. Whenever she smiled that cocky shit eating grin it nearly knocked the air out of my lungs. I'd seen her around at the arena and thought she was gorgeous. Even when she was drunk and crying over the things Will said and did to her, she was beautiful. The night I danced with her at the club, it took everything I had not to drag her home with me, but I didn't want to be a one-night stand because she definitely wouldn't be one to me. The thought felt weird at the time and sometimes even now. I'd never wanted a girl enough to just hang out with without sex. Sure, I wanted the sex but just being around her had me grinning like an idiot the whole time. When she told me she called Callum retriever boy I had to laugh. Partly because she was right and partly because she couldn't tell that she had me feeling the same way. For a while. I went from being retriever boy to the grim reaper pretty quick. She barely texted me, the last one being over a week ago. And it showed.

I was miserable. I used to love being alone, but now every time I holed up in my room, I missed her. I felt like an idiot pining after her like so. I was Chase Andrews for Christ's sake; I could pick up any girl I wanted. The problem was that I didn't want them. It had been over a month since I slept with anyone, and I wasn't even looking to score.

Though I hadn't been doing much of that lately on or off the ice. I spent a good portion of my last two games trying to scan the arena to see if she'd show. She didn't. I would score a hundred goals just to see her celebrating in her seat like she did at the last game. Hell, I would score a hundred goals if it meant she would speak to me again.

"Andrews!" The bark was accented with a crisp puck to the side of my helmet. I whipped around to see coach Clark standing there glaring at me. "Get you head back on the ice! Two laps, full tilt!"

I cursed, taking off around the outskirts of the ice and pushing myself as hard as I could. I knew Coach would only up my punishment if I didn't give it a hundred percent. A puck to the head was my only warning. I came to a stop at center ice, breathing heavily.

"Whatever is going on with you, fix it. You/re playing like shit and skating like a novice. I don't want to bench you but I will. Get your shit together,"

"Yes coach," I ground out. Coach Clark was a hard ass, who followed through on every threat he made. When any of us started getting out of control, he liked to make an example out of one of us. Which would look bad on us from a scouting stand point. None of us were here just for fun.

He jerked his head, signalling me to get back to the others who were setting up for drills.

"Still nothing from Willow?" Callum asked as I came to a stop behind him.

"What do you think?" I snapped

He ignored me, silently facing front again. I pushed myself hard through the rest of the practice and let my anger take over. It was probably that dick head ex of her's fault she was like this. Or maybe she really didn't want to be around me. It was easier to blame that fuck head anyway.

By the end of practice, I was feeling worse instead of better. I was coiled like a spring under pressure. I had to either let off the steam, or wait until I blew. Which is why instead of turning down the guys offer to join them at the bar, I agreed without hesitation. I hated going out most of the time, but I needed to let off steam. Maybe I needed it to get Willow off my mind.

Which is how we got here. I was dressed in a black dress shirt and dark, well-fitting jeans with black shoes, hair ruffled in a laid-back style. Simple, but good enough. Almost too well dressed for the person I planned to be tonight. Maybe Willow was right about me after all. The first night I met her she profiled me as the sleep with anything, no self respect kind of guy who didn't care about anyone else either. I wanted her to be right honestly. That didn't stop me from messaging her though.

Hey, going out to Gallagher's tonight if you want to come

"Cab's here!"

I sighed, grabbing my jacket from the desk and made my way out to the Can where Miles and Callum were waiting. In what felt like no time, I was already sat at the bar top at Gallagher's, three drinks and two shots deep.

Is there a reason why you won't talk to me? I told you we were still friends. If you don't want to be, let me know at least.

Again, I felt pathetic. I wished she would just rip the band aid off and tell me to piss off, or at least respond to me in some way. I let out a frustrated sigh, putting my phone back into my pocket

"Hey handsome,". I felt a hand drag from my shoulder and down my forearm. I fought the urge to shrug it off. Every girl who's trying to pick up does the same way. Down the arm, down my back, or if they're feeling really brave, they go straight for the thigh.

"Hey, ". I shifted over, giving her room to lean on the table beside me. Against my better judgement, I bought her a drink. She was pretty, obviously put in some effort to get dressed up tonight. She had long brown hair like Willow, but her brown eyes definitely didn't hold the same warmth as her baby blues and there was no hint of shyness or even a shred of reserve about her. She was ready to lay everything on the table. Or in this case, bed.

"Good game Wednesday,"

"You like hockey?" I was genuinely a little surprised. A lot of girls go for hockey players, but never care about anything else related to the sport.

"Yeah, I was there to watch my friend's brother. Opposing team, but I couldn't care less how they did,".

I laughed dryly. "Was a better game on their part,".

"Maybe, I wasn't really watching them. I would have loved to see you score though,". She shot me a wink and took a sip of her drink. "Maybe sometime soon,". As if the first comment wasn't enough.

We sat and talked through more drinks and a few shots, and a lot more innuendos. She may as well have dropped her panties right there. Much to her dismay she couldn't convince me to dance, but she was more than happy to catch a cab back to my place.

She couldn't keep her hands off of me and I was ashamed to say I felt the same. I didn't have another thought in my head outside of the backseat of this cab for the first time in two weeks. When we got to my place, I hurriedly unlocked the door, not bothering to lock it behind me before pressing her up against it.

"Couch?" she asked

"Sounds good to me," I pressed kisses from the soft spot under her ear down to her shoulder before leading her to the couch. She pushed me down, taking her shirt off and straddling me. I grabbed her hips roughly, pinning her under me in seconds.

"Have some steam to blow off, huh?"

"You don't even know the half of it, " I grunted, unhooking my belt.

Half an hour later we were both naked, covered from the waist down by the small blanket we left on the couch. As soon as we were done, I was actually ashamed of myself. It seemed to be a trend lately. All I could think about was how much I wish it wasn't her. How I resented Willow for making me feel bad about the kind of person I was. How I resented myself for taking home the first girl who threw herself at me.

"That, was great,". She noted, grinning at me. She leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head so she caught my cheek instead. I didn't have to try not to care about the disappointed look on her face. She waited there for a beat before pulling away. "I guess I should get going,".

She grabbed her clothes from the floor, hurriedly pulling them on. I grabbed my pants, slinging them on without bothering to do them up. "Yeah probably, ". I said numbly. She glanced at me before angrily stomping down the hall towards the door

"Call me next time you want to blow off steam," The way she snapped the words at me were enough to tell me she didn't mean them and probably didn't want to see me again. As if that mattered. She knew what this was and hoped it would be different. Everybody wants to change the asshole into the perfect boyfriend. Nobody could believe I was actually an asshole. She should have figured it out when I never bothered to ask for her name.

After the door slammed closed behind her, I grabbed the rest of my clothes and the blanket, tossed them into the washing machine and went upstairs to shower. I had sobered up considerably and the hot shower moved it along until I was only buzzed once again.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think he would-"I could hear Miles muffled voice travelling down the hall. "I knew he would get plastered but I didn't think he would bring a girl back to the couch. I'm sorry you had to- "

I must have ruined his own hookup by opting for the couch. It definitely wasn't my finest moment. I hadn't even heard the door open. I rushed to rinse off and tossed on a pair of sweat pants, making it down the stairs, spotting Miles at the door, with a hand pressed to his forehead.

"She left you hanging? "I laughed sheepishly, "Sorry, I was pretty fucked up and didn't make it-"

"Pretty fucked up? You have that right!" He had whirled around and took several steps down the hall, his sandy hair messed up where he had run is hands through it.

"Miles, I said I'm- "

"She wasn't here to see me, she was here for you!"

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

He sighed in frustration. "She felt bad about ignoring you and whatever else happened between you so she came to talk to you. Instead, Willow just spent half an hour with me out in the cold on my balcony so she didn't have to hear you,"

No, no. no. This was not happening. She hadn't spoken to me in a week, and she picked tonight to show up here. She heard- she probably saw.

"How long?" I ground out.

"She got here before you did. I let her into your room a few minutes before you-"

"And you didn't tell me!?" I shouted angrily, taking a step towards him

"How the fuck was I supposed to walk in on you and tell you she was here? She could hear everything at that point, I didn't want to embarrass her even more. Fuck man, the look on her face? She didn't want to see you once she realized what was happening,". We were toe to toe now, something we haven't done in years, we had our fair share of scraps in the past, but not since the beginning of high school

"Why not? I would have- "

"Sent your hook up home and tried to talk to her half naked covered in someone else's lipstick? Like her ex?"

"She ghosted me,". I told him, trying desperately to understand what was happening.

"Well for whatever reason she wanted to talk to you tonight. You were so busy you didn't even see her car parked out front. She wouldn't admit it but it hurt,".

Fuck. I ran my hands through my hair, rushing to the living room to look for my dropped phone.

"You better clean the damn couch too,".

I ignored him, finding my phone and bunching in Willow's number. Straight to voicemail. Twice. I cursed, shooting her a text.

Willow I am so sorry. I didn't know you were here. I'm sorry.

I called once more and got her voicemail on the second ring once more.

I know you're mad at me, just let me know when you make it home. Even if you don't want to talk to me

I didn't get to see her before she left, but Miles could tell she was upset. Meaning she was trying to hold back and it would get worse when she was alone.

Willow, please.

Two hours. I spent two hours alternating between laying in my bed and pacing my room. If I hadn't been drinking, I would have at least been able to drive by her house to see if she made it home. Was that creepy? I felt like I was being creepy, but Miles refused to drive me even though he had significantly less to drink.

My phone dinged, and I shot up to check it.

I'm fine. Why apologize. We are friends. I should have called first. My bad.

I groaned, throwing myself back on my bed. She never texted in clipped sentences. She always had a joke ready, an emoji, an "lol" something. She was upset and she wasn't going to tell me about it. I didn't even do anything wrong, but I still felt like I had.

Fuck