Chase

I've known Liam for five years, ever since we both got drafted to the NYC Cobras hockey team along with his college roommate, Justin. I play center, Liam is a left-wing, and Justin was a right-wing. The three of us became fast friends our first year on the team. 

We became so close that we decided to room together in a fantastic apartment not far from the hockey arena. It's a spacious three-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a chef's kitchen, a fantastic view of the city, and an open floorplan. It's our sanctuary. And it's where Liam and I retreated when we lost Justin in a drunk driving accident.

Justin was in a cab heading home from the bar when a drunk driver came out of nowhere and smashed into the cab. The whole team lost focus for a while after that happened. Justin was a genuinely good guy. Never let the team down, kept his cool on the ice, stayed faithful to his long-term girlfriend, Mel. He was only twenty-five when it happened. 

It was a hard blow to everyone, especially Liam and Taylor, Justin's younger sibling. Liam, Taylor, and I all leaned on each other heavily after Justin died. Taylor was at our place more often than at home, and we created our own little support system, our own little family. It was only natural when Taylor moved in and became our third roommate after Justin's death. To me, it felt kind of like a small part of him was still there with us with Taylor around.

Since Justin's accident, Liam has been even more serious about hockey and making sure he has a good relationship with his family. So, it was a no-brainer when Liam asked if his sister could stay with us while she looks for her own place. 

She'll be arriving today with Liam's mom and dad. I told him I could help bring her stuff upstairs when she gets here after a bit. From what Liam's told me, she's had a rough last few years and really needs this change. Taylor and I both said we'd help get her adjusted to living in the city, show her around, make her comfortable.

I'm lounging on the couch with Liam while we wait for her to arrive. As I read through the latest tabloid story about what female companion I'm supposedly linked to this week, I shake my head. That's the annoying part about being a professional athlete. The media always wants the latest scoop about our personal lives. It doesn't matter that we are still human beings who want to have some sliver of privacy. Nope, we don't get that. Everyone wants to know what we do every moment of every day and who we do it with. 

I didn't use to care about that. I used to go out, do whatever I wanted with whoever I wanted without a care in the world who saw. It was like I was king of the world, and no one could bring me down. Being athletic and popular always garnered attention for me- mostly female attention. And for several years, I thrived on it. I craved attention from as many women as I could get. It was like a drug; I couldn't get enough.

Over the years, I have racked up so many one-night stands I'd lost count. It's what earned me the title of New York's most eligible playboy. The tabloids latched on to me. The headlines would often read something along the lines of "Get In Line Ladies For Your Shot At One Night With Hockey's Favorite Center". 

I was photographed frequently with a different girl on my arm. One for each story they would print. You'd never see me with the same girl twice. That was just what I did for four and a half years after the Cobras drafted me. For the past six months, I've found myself getting bored of one-night stands and feeling jealous of my teammates who would go home with their wives or girlfriends. They had something substantial, and I just had the guys and whatever fangirl I picked for the night. What I have started to crave is something more, something lasting. It's just hard to find that in a city where everyone knows your name and paygrade.

The media started to get bored with me once I began going home alone more often than not. The headlines now read more along the lines of "What Happened To NYC's Playboy Hockey Star? Has He Lost His Mojo?". It's very irritating. They seemed to follow me more than usual for a while. They were waiting for a juicy scoop. 

That is until they found some fresh meat. Our team picked up a new right-winger from Chicago, T.J. Levine. He was now the current media obsession. Apparently, he was the playboy of Chicago, so now they're up his ass instead of mine for the most part. That didn't stop them from snapping a picture of me last weekend at the bar.

They saw me getting felt up by one of the team's groupies and are having a field day with it. The article I'm reading speculates that she and I are involved and that she's the reason I've been going home alone more often these days. That couldn't be further from the truth. 

The girl in question, Valerie, was one of my one-night stands. She always wanted more, but I was never interested. She's the kind of person who is only interested in status. Since I'm the current captain of the hottest hockey team in the nation, she's set her sights on me. Every time the team is out, she and her best friend stalk us at whatever bar we're at and hang all over us. I don't want to be associated with her the way the headlines are implying or at all if I'm being honest.

I must be silently fuming because Liam starts to get curious, "What're they saying now?"

I show him the headline, "Look at this shit! I don't want people to think I'm linked up with that puck bunny!"

Liam chuckles, "I get it, man, but you can't let that shit get to you. We all know those stories are bull. Give it a day or two, and they'll print something about T.J. or someone else, and that picture will be old news."

I know Liam is right. He usually is, but I'm still irritated. I don't want Val to think she and I have any kind of future. It's hard enough to get her to leave me alone without this crap being put out all over the place. And it's easy for Liam to shrug this kind of thing off. 

He's hardly ever in the tabloids. Since Justin died, he has had no interest in meaningless hookups anymore. He says life is too short to keep messing around. Pair that with the fact that he's close with his family, and he's genuinely a good guy. It's a wonder the guy isn't wifed up yet.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when Liam elbows me, "Hey, they're five minutes out."

We head downstairs to greet the fam. That's when I see her. She looks like she stepped out of a sexy women's magazine. She's tall and thin with long blonde hair and beautiful green eyes. I have never seen a more perfect woman in my life. 

I can't stop the thoughts that start running through my head. Many involve her on her back in my bed. My eyes are glued to her when she finally looks up at me. Her face turns pink, and her jaw drops when she sees me, but she quickly recovers and looks away when her big bright eyes meet my own.

That's when I hear Liam, "Mom, dad, Lindsey, meet Chase. Chase, these are my parents, and this is my sister Lindsey."

At that moment, I realized how utterly fucked I was. I'll be sharing a living space with this goddess who has already set up shop in the naughtiest part of my brain. This goddess who is Liam's little sister. My best friend's little sister. That makes her automatically off-limits. That means hands off (as well as every other part of my body).

I am so fucked.