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Innocuous

HEY... it's been a while. I'm trying to finish off a number of my partial stories before beginning anything new. Of all the ones in my unfinished archives, this was the most recent. It was an easier finish, since the storyline was a little fresher in the strainer I call my brain.

Innocuous: (Synonyms: innocent, harmless, safe)

While we all read the same definitions in a dictionary. How we interpret the meanings, based on our own proclivities, is where life gets muddy.

This story involves a couple who have much in common but unfortunately see certain things in a different light. All relationships have bumps... can this relationship get back on track?

Still self-editing and writing slower than usual. All mistakes are just that... mistakes. Apologies if they distract you too much.

Cheers!

C_T

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"Did you even have your eyes open?" The voice came from across the dressing room. Macher stood with the towel wrapped around his waist, heading to the showers.

"Of course! Planned the whole thing out in advance, right down to the 30-degree ricochet off the defenseman's helmet." That drew a series of chuckles and good-hearted ribbing.Innocuous фото

There's an old saying in hockey. Ugly goals win games. That stood true even in old beer leagues like the one we played in. The Jags were made up of a bunch of similarly aged guys who at some point either played together or against each other growing up. Some guys were back from auditions in bigger markets, some from college, but most were good ol boys working local jobs. Many of us had young families, but we had our fair share of lifelong bachelors too. We'd been together for the better part of seven years, gaining and losing a few guys every year, but somehow, we were always in the hunt for the A division championship. For beer league, things could still get intense. You'd think we were playing for the Stanley Cup, not an $8 T-shirt that said champs on it.

"Leave it to pretty boy to make it dramatic!" That one came from Nigel... or as we call him, Thor. Yeah, he's a big dude, long blonde hair.

Pretty boy was me, Kyle Payne. What can I say, I had the locks of hair that magically feathered out of my helmet like wings. Gone is the complete mullet, but my thick hair still did its thing. An old coach gave me that nickname back when I was playing AAA as a 13-year-old, and it's stuck ever since. The room was filled with the classic nicknames. Digger, Frosty, sunburn (burny for short)... that one was for our goalie. One game he got lit up so bad we teased him that he had a sunburn on the back of his neck from the red light going off so much.

We just won the best-of-five series against last year's champs and were heading to the finals for the second year in a row. That's right, last year they beat us, so tonight's win was even sweeter. I downed the last of my beer and headed towards the showers, hoping most of the guys were done. My timing was good as Macher was leaving just as I got there. That opened up the third shower head. Our typical post-game chatter always revolved around missed calls, goalposts, and the occasional did you see that hot girl in the stands comments. Jay finished up and headed out to towel off when BJ walked in. That caused me and the other guy, Wilson, and me to groan.

"Fuck off, BJ. I was just starting to feel okay with myself!" Wilson blurted, causing me to laugh.

BJ stood for Big Jim. Now Jim, or Jimmy, wasn't really that big. In fact, he was one of our thinner guys. Jimmy was by far our weakest player, but he had no quit in him, and the guys genuinely liked him. I believe the term for such a guy is a good-shit! While you would think BJ came about because he was skinny, what he lacked in muscle tone and size, he more than made up for with what he had between his legs. It just wasn't fair! So, we teased him. You could be teased about worse things, but he took it all in stride.

"I keep telling you, Wilson, don't look. I'd hate to be responsible for your nightmares." His comebacks were never very good, but we always gave them the chuckle out of respect.

Digger, Danny Boyd, was my best friend, and we had been joined at the hip since we first met in atom hockey. He was drying his almost non-existent hair when he looked around the corner. "Hammers?" He looked at me.

"Of course! I hear you're buying!" Any guy in earshot cheered at that.

"Fuck you!" He smiled, then looked towards BJ. "I thought you needed a license to own a python, BJ?" He teased. BJ just grabbed his hunk of meat and swirled it around, making Wilson and me run from the showers.

"Are the girls coming?" I asked Danny as I placed a fresh beer in front of him.

"Should be here any minute! Shelby said she was running late and still had to get Vern."

Shelby and Danny got married last year, and she's four months along now with their first. This, of course, had earned her a new nickname, DD, designated driver. Vern, Veronica, was my gorgeous wife. Yeah, think of the Archie comics and put red hair on her. That's my Veronica. If you don't know what the Archies are... well, I'm old apparently. Vern and I have been married for six years and have yet to have a child. Not from the lack of trying, I must add, but long gone was any form of birth control. If it happened, it happened. We agreed to never get pressured or too worked up. Kids would be great, but it wasn't a deal breaker for either of us. Although I know Vern's mom has done everything but make animal sacrifices to the Gods of Fertility. She gets a little pushy sometimes, but we both take it in stride. Her father is much more relaxed, as are my parents. But then again, my older brother has already given my parents two grandchildren. Vern's an only child.

Our group had overtaken the rear part of the bar. Almost the whole team came out, and then there was a smattering of wives and girlfriends to boot. We were loud, but that just fit into the overall feeling at the Hammer. The women smiled as we replayed the entire game through our eyes, and they smiled and laughed when appropriate. Shelby was the only woman in the group who played and understood hockey. She was always in the mix, but the rest, including Veronica, were happy to stay on the outside. She came to the odd game, but in her words, if she wanted to watch a bunch of aging men pretend to be athletes, she'd watch WWE. Ouch!

"Hey, pretty boy! Here comes your better half!" One of the boys pointed to the door.

I loved watching her enter a room. I knew more than a few guys followed her with their eyes, but knowing she was mine was intoxicating. Her face glowed when she smiled at me. Her thick, kissable lips curved just perfect. She dropped onto my lap, grabbed my beer, and took a sizeable swig. "HEY!" I yelled.

She put the bottle down and looked at me. "Get me drunk, and you might have your way with me." Her sexy eyes burned a hole in my soul. The boys laughed at the look on my face.

"HEY! HEY BARTENDER! A PITCHER FOR THE LADY!" I pointed at Vern, causing everyone to laugh.

For the next hour, we socialized and talked hockey. The girls had their own side conversations going. Despite the fact that Vern was still on my lap, she was having a totally different conversation with Shelby and three of the other girls there. That's how we did it. We talked over, around, and sometimes through each other. I loved times like this.

"You heading out, BJ?" Danny yelled over everyone.

"Yeah. Got an early day tomorrow. I'll see you boys, Wednesday night!" We all yelled our goodbyes.

Vern watched him leave, and when he was out of earshot, she looked at the group. "BJ?"

"It's not what you're thinking, you dirty bird." I teased my wife.

"BJ is short for Big Jim," Danny added.

Veronica lifted her head in recognition. "Ahhhh! Because he's skinny."

"Yeah. Yeah, something like that." I smiled.

"What?" Veronica picked up on my sarcasm.

Shelby leaned over and half-whispered to Veronica. "Apparently he's got a tree trunk between the legs."

Veronica's face went red, and those who heard Shelby had a good laugh at her expense. "That... that's just mean." She tried to deflect her brief embarrassment. "You guys need to grow up."

I pushed a beer into her hand, and she gratefully took a long pull, hoping the unwanted attention would pass. Thirty minutes later, we all started heading for the exit. It was a Monday night, and everyone had work in the morning, except for Danny. He worked a totally different schedule, being a firefighter. I escorted my wife back to my truck and held her bottom as she stepped into my higher cab. This always made her smile.

"Is this why you boys like to put lifts in your trucks? So you can cop a feel under the pretense of being helpful?"

I closed the door behind her. "YEP!"

Once home, we completed our evening duties and got ready for bed. I was leaning over the bathroom sink, brushing my teeth, when a swarm of red hair flopped over my face, and a pair of perfect breasts pressed into my back. She kissed my earlobe as I tried to rinse and spit the last of my toothpaste.

"So, pretty boy! Feeling lucky?" She had a familiar squeeze on my now-growing junk.

I raised my eyebrow at her through the reflection in the mirror. "I thought it was that time of the month?" I teased.

"It is..." She purred. "But I have my ways." She purred.

Loosely grabbing my hand, she pulled me down the hall into our laundry room. Inside the space was a solid wooden table, her grandfather built, that she used for folding and stacking. She lifted her butt and sat on the table, pulling me between her legs. The first kiss was slow and sexy, but we were soon hot and heavy, gently pulling each other's hair in the process.

"Turn around." Her throaty voice commanded.

With a final kiss, I did as she asked, and her hands made quick work of my tented underwear. I heard her reach behind her, and the distant sound of something being pumped echoed behind me. Both of her hands were now slick with some kind of oil.

"Oh no..." I gasped.

"Oh yes, mister." She giggled in my ear while her hands slowly coated my cock with the slippery substance.

Our first sexual contact, when we were dating, was her hand on my cock. She jerked me off in a near-empty theatre, back in the dark rows. I've taken care of myself enough to be good at it, but I learnt very quickly that there were masters in the art of masturbation. My future wife was a master. Her buttery fingers edged me for more than half the movie. To this day, I couldn't even tell what the movie was. The mess I left on the backs of the seats and theatre floor was obscene. It was like I came ten times in a row!

On the ride home, she shared that she first developed that approach in high school to keep her virginity. She mastered it in college and had taught more than a few other girls, by request of their boyfriends. She didn't just jerk you off; she made love to your cock with her hands.

We were well into it when she moved in for the kill. She did this thing where she dragged a firm grip down your shaft, pulling the skin back, creating a very sensitive frenulum, while squeezing tight around the base. Then she'd apply the other hand over the engorged head and corkscrew in a painfully slow rhythm, sending intense pleasure through your entire body. My head tilted back on her shoulder as I gasped. My fingers tried hard to dig into the solid wood table.

"I love the way you react to this." She breathed heavily in my ear.

"God! Vern! You make me crazy!" I gasped as she upped her tempo.

Like a book, she knew I was close to my ending, so she backed off, removing both her hands, leaving my stone-hard cock bobbing in the air. "I can do this for hours." She nuzzled my neck, one hand returned to my balls and gently cradled them. "Mmmm, so full. I bet we hit the wall from here when I finally let you burst." She emphasized the last word, causing me to squirm.

She now had both hands working very carefully. Enough to keep me on edge but not letting me get too far. "You know..." she started. "I once kept a guy up all night doing this to him."

"Lucky bastard." I exhaled.

"He played basketball for an opposing school. Needless to say, he was useless the next day on the court." She giggled. "We won by 28 points."

I was trying to think of something to say, but I felt her hand pull my skin tight to the base. My hips instinctively pushed up as her other hand resumed the corkscrew. "Ahhhhhh! Fuck!" I was writhing from side to side.

"I own you." She growled at me.

This went on for... shit... I don't know. It felt like forever. I knew she was ready when her hand paused on the head of my cock wrapped in her palm. "You ready, baby? You ready to paint our wall? Hmmm?" Her hand started twisting. "C'mon, baby. Do it! Paint that fucking wall with your sperm! Impress me! Do it, baby! Do it! Cum!"

"Ah... ah... ah... ahh.... ahhhhhhhh! Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

I shook, I convulsed, I even thrashed between her legs. The orgasm was so intense, it borderline hurt, but yet, felt so fucking good. She timed her strokes with each volley of cum, maximizing both the amount of jizz and the distance it flew. Exhausted, I felt myself fall back into her body for support.

"Good boy. Fuck, I love making you cum!" She kissed my forehead. "Look! Look at the wall, baby! That's a lot of cum!" She brought her right hand up to her mouth, licking and sucking the trail residue of my ejaculation.

"Fuck, I love you!" I groaned, completely satisfied.

The finals of our beer league moved along nicely. We were up two games to zero, in the best of five. It looked like this could be our year to finally make it over the hurdle to be champs. The games drew a larger-than-average crowd as the stands filled with girlfriends, friends, and family for both teams. With the next game being played Sunday evening, Danny thought a team mixer the Friday night would be good for morale, and... okay, we just needed a reason to hold a big BBQ.

Danny and Shelby's home was on the smaller side, but he had a good-sized backyard and the garage was huge. We cooked outside, set tables up in the garage, and hung out for drinks wherever you could find room. Despite the day off in between, the boys were going steady but in control. A heavy hangover can affect you for days, so a cool buzz was on everyone's radar. As the drinks flowed, the taunts and teasing ratcheted up, leaving no guy untouched. BJ took more ribbing than most, but that was the price for having the biggest dick in the dressing room.

I finished the last of my beer and felt the two burgers I had earlier wanted out, so I excused myself to hit the bathroom inside the house. I'm not allergic to beef, but it does clean out my colon. The house was pretty much empty, just Macher and his girl sitting on the living room couch. The conversation looked deep, so I simply nodded and headed down the hall.

I washed my hands, after my business, looked in the mirror to make sure I didn't have mustard on my cheek, then opened the door. At the same time, a bedroom door opened and out walked BJ. His back was more to me than the front, so he didn't see me. I watched him tighten his belt, and a smile broke out on my face. BJ got lucky! I wonder what girl dared to give him a try. My smile disappeared when I watched Veronica follow behind him. He whispered something I couldn't make out, but it made my wife grin. I watched her raise her right hand to her mouth and... fuck! I knew what she was doing. She was cleaning her hand. She... FUCK!

I guess I made some kind of noise, because BJ made a quick exit without even looking back. Veronica, however, locked eyes with me and her face went white. She immediately dropped her hand and stood still like a child who knew she was in trouble. I've never been a fighter, and I definitely would never hit a woman, but... fuck me, it was tough to wrangle that emotion. If I wasn't going to start anything, then I needed to get out of there as fast as possible. I started walking, and sensing I wasn't going to stop, Vern stepped in front of me.

"Baby... wait." She reached for my hand.

I yanked it out of reach and stared daggers into her eyes. "You missed some," I pointed to her cheek. "Bitch!"

As her hand reached up to check, I blew past her, knocking her shoulder hard enough that it spun her back through the door she came out of. Macher heard the commotion and was standing when I walked by like a man on a mission. "Kyle? You okay?"

He didn't get an answer as I walked out the small patio door, through the crowd, straight to my truck. Thankfully, I parked on the road. I hate feeling boxed in. As I started the truck, I saw Veronica running down the driveway, calling my name. A small circle of people were watching our drama unfold. I punched the gas, squealing the tires on the pavement, leaving no doubt how I was feeling in the moment.

In no time, my phone was lighting up. At first, it was all Vern, and I rejected them all long before it went to voicemail. I was about to hit the end button once again when I saw the name Digger show up on the screen in my truck. I figured I'd better answer this one. I needed to apologize for the dramatic exit.

"Kyle? What the fuck is going on? Everyone is buzzing! Machar said you looked like you wanted to kill someone!"

I chuckled despite not being amused. "Let's just say some serious shit hit the fan, Danny. Sorry for the commotion. I had to get out of there."

"Dude. Veronica's crying like a child and no one has a clue what's going on."

"This is between Vern and me, Digger. Tell the boys it's not their business. As for the women, well, they'll create their own narrative. No doubt I'll be an asshole of grand proportion in no time."

"Are you being an asshole?" Danny's voice was genuine. He wasn't passing judgment. We both knew when to own our bullshit.

"No, buddy. I'm not the asshole this time."

After a few more minutes of careful chatter, I hung up. I knew Danny would let me handle my personal shit, personally. I also knew he'd make sure the guys didn't let their women suck them into it either. I didn't really give a shit one way or the other. The only opinion that I cared about was Danny's, and if I'm being honest... Shelby. Shelby was a different cut of female, and her opinion counted almost as much as Danny's.

I walked around the empty house, trying to decide if I should pack some shit, or kick her out, or... fuck, I had no idea what to do. Suddenly all those divorce stories went through my mind. Divorce? Shit, was I already there? There wasn't one story that ended well for anyone. Separating finances, division of equity, retirement funds... fuck! I fell back in my easy chair, looking around my house, wondering if it would still be my house in the coming months. I left here feeling like our future was so bright, only to have it all come crashing down at one little team party.

I heard the front door open and could see Shelby entering the house. "Kyle?" She saw me sitting there.

"Hey, Shelby." The words came automatically.

"Uh... I brought Veronica home." She looked worried. "Is that okay? Will you be okay?"

Again, another unsolicited chuckle escaped my lips. "If you're worried about me being violent, I think you know me better than that, Shelby." I sighed, accepting that being in the same room as my wife had to happen sooner or later. "It's fine, Shelby."

"Okay. She's in my car. I'll go get her." She turned to walk out, but stopped, looking back at me. "I have no idea what happened, Kyle. I just hope you two can figure it out." She gave me a small smile and left to go get my wife.

Ten minutes later, Vern shuffled through the front door, looking terrified. "You can drop the fearful victim act, Vern. You know I'm not going to hurt you. I'd be long gone before I'd let that much anger take me over."

 

Her posture softened enough that she looked out to the driveway, waved to Shelby that she was okay, and closed the door. I wasn't going to hurt her, but I wasn't going to make her comfortable either, so I stared at her, daring her to break the ice with her bullshit. Seconds turned to minutes, and the minutes silently blended together. Figuring she wasn't ready to talk, I pushed myself from my chair and hit the kitchen for a beer. When I entered the kitchen, I stopped and looked up where I kept the hard stuff. Fuck the beer! This moment had whiskey written all over it. I pulled down the bottle of Crown, poured at least four fingers' worth into a glass, topping it off with a couple of ice cubes. I took my drink and went through our patio doors onto our deck and stood at the edge that overlooked the small field behind our house.

The first gulp burned and hit all the right buttons. Instantly I felt a little less stressed and had a more controlled second sip. I heard her come through the open patio doors, her feet shuffling on top of the premium decking she just had to have. Still staring outwards, I heard her take a deep breath. Here it comes...

"Baby? I... I'm truly sorry, but it's not what you think it is. It's not really a big deal."

Of all the starts she could have come at me with... this was about the worst. I spun in place so quickly it startled her. "Not a big deal? Are you referring to jerking off one of my friends at a team party? You certainly aren't talking about the cock you lovingly jerked off. How did his cum taste? Sweeter than mine?"

She went immediately on the defensive. "A handjob, baby. A simple handjob. The whole thing was so... innocuous!" I raised my eyebrow at the choice of her words. I think she confused that with me not understanding the word. She put her purse on the patio table. "Innocuous means..."

I cut her off. "Oh, I know what it means, Vern. Do you?" She blinked a few times. "It means it's not harmful or offensive. You really think that term applies here? I am deeply hurt and offended. Perhaps you meant sick, reprehensible... evil!"

"You're overreacting, baby." It doesn't affect us at all. It was a little bit of fun. There's no risk or damage to our relationship." I couldn't believe it, but by the way she smiled when she said those words, I think she fucking believed them.

"Who are you?" I was almost at a loss for words. Almost. She literally rolled her eyes, but before she could start spewing more bullshit, I found those lost words.

"Doesn't affect us? You just polished the knob of one of my friends, a member of my team. Don't you think that impacts us? Why him? Why one of my friends? Why someone I see all the time? Someone who all our friends know. You didn't even know Jimmy until you found out his nickname. Is that what all this is really about? You wanted to stroke a nice big dick, because hubby's is not enough?"

"I love your cock, Kyle! I love everything about you. Everything about you is perfect for me! The way you love me. The way you make love to me. You are perfect!" She was actually trying to scold me, like I was stupid.

"Uh, huh. So perfect, you wanted to sneak away with a friend of mine and jerk off his cock in some random bedroom. Good thing you're not an anal addict!" That really pissed her off.

"Don't be such a jerk, Kyle! You are being childish! Is kissing cheating? You kiss Shelby all the time!"

"On the fucking cheek! Not on her pussy!"

She tried to regroup, realizing she struck out with that one. Her tone changed in an attempt to lower the temperature. "You're right. That's totally different. I guess what I was trying to do was demonstrate just how insignificant this was for me." I was about to talk over her again, but she shushed me. "It's not insignificant to you. I get that. If you hadn't seen us, Kyle, this would be nothing. It was a one-off. A trip down memory lane, one could say."

"A trip down... what the fuck does that mean?"

She walked closer and reached for my hand, holding it with both of hers. "Okay. Remember when I told you about the basketball guy and our team winning the next day? Well, I mean, he wasn't the first basketball guy, or the last, that I did that to. And as you know, lots of university players are black and, well, the stereotype was more right than wrong. Handling something so big, knowing the man was absolutely putty in your hands... literally... was a huge rush for me. I guess I was intrigued by the comment about how BJ got his nickname." My face was getting red with anger. "He didn't initiate anything. I did. I had to convince him it was no big deal. He only agreed as long as you never found out."

I couldn't believe my ears. She was smiling at me. Fucking smiling, like she confessed she had a crush on a celebrity or something. I yanked my hand away one last time. "I gotta go wash my hands."

"Kyle. You're being silly. I would never..."

"Cheat on me? Touch another man's cock? Taste another man's cum? By the way, did you brush your teeth yet, or are you still savouring that memory too?"

I walked past her, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door. "Wait! Kyle! Why are you acting like this? How can you be such a jerk?"

I froze, with my hand on the doorknob. I turned my head just enough for my voice to carry. "I literally caught you... red-handed... cheating on me, in my best friend's house, during a hockey party filled with all of our friends, with a guy I have to look at in the dressing room the day after tomorrow. Yeah... I see it now. I'm the jerk."

It was well into the early morning hours before I returned home. Oh, I contemplated a hotel, or taking off for a couple of days, but that felt like running, and maybe I wasn't a fighter, but I was no runner. I never made it upstairs to see if Vern was asleep or not, parking my weary ass on my recliner. I guess I fell asleep at some point, as I awoke to my wife standing beside my recliner, wearing one of my old Carhartt T-shirts. It sat low enough to give the illusion she wasn't wearing anything else. It was once my favourite sight, but in that moment, it did nothing for me.

"You could've come to bed." Her voice was laced with concern.

"And you could've kept your hands to yourself." That sentence completely reversed her approach, as she spun and walked away. Once again, a sight that used to excite me.

The house was chilly all day. Neither of us made an attempt to discuss or diffuse our situation. More and more I could see this being the proverbial hill that out relationship could die on. Did I have it in me to forgive and move on? I wasn't sure. What I was sure about was that there was no way I'd accept her dismissive attitude. I was half expecting her to pull the old "fragile male ego" thing. Like this is all in my head. I kept my keys close by for that very purpose. I already texted my older brother warning him that things at home were pretty tense. He didn't even ask a question. Rob simply answered that I always had a room at his place.

It was close to dinner when I got a text from Digger.

Hey bud. How's the home front? You guys okay?

Frosty as hell. Okay? Not even a little bit!

Shit, dude! WTF?

Not ready to talk about it

Alright. You still playing Sunday?

Not sure

Kyle, we need you.

I'll see.

As much as I tried to ignore Vern, I had noticed she spent a lot of time on her phone. Texting and the occasional phone call that she would take in another room. I took it upon myself to order a pizza for supper, and yes, I ordered enough for her. I left it on the kitchen table while I took my six slices to my man cave to watch something to make me feel better, like Die Hard or Slapshot.

It was close to 11 pm when I finally flicked off the TV and headed back upstairs. Veronica was nowhere to be seen. That should have worried me, but my give a fuck meter was right at zero now. I walked into our bedroom, and there she was, lying on our bed wearing the black lingerie I loved.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to come up?" Her voice was soft and sultry.

It was the biggest fucking cliché ever! How do you get your man back from an argument? SEX! But I wasn't buying it. So, I walked past her to our ensuite and shut the door. Moments later, I could hear her at the door.

"Kyle? C'mon baby, this is getting silly. Please let me make this up to you."

I opened the door and stared at her. "What's the plan? Give me one of your famous handjobs?"

"Well, I suspect that would be in poor taste, considering..."

"Considering my dick isn't big and/or black?"

"Jesus, Kyle. I'm trying to make up here. Can't you meet me halfway? How about a blowjob?" She put her arms around my neck and moved in closer. "I know you love a nice, slow blowjob." She dragged the words out for emphasis.

Just as short as 36 hours ago, I'd have felt I died and gone to heaven, but instead I felt... what? Dirty? Disgusted? Disrespected? Fuck, it was all of them. I gently grabbed her arms, removing them from my neck. "I'll pass, thanks." I closed the door in her shocked face, locking it for good measure.

"Your loss, asshole!" Just as I suspected. Her quick anger only confirmed what I knew. She wasn't sorry or even regretful. She wanted to gloss over the whole thing like it didn't matter, and I wasn't okay with that.

I ended up on the couch again, but Veronica wasn't there to wake me this time. The house was quiet, and I could see that her little Honda was gone. I checked my phone. 6:30 am. I guess she really wanted to get out before I awoke. I went about my day, doing some yard work and a few minor repairs to our guest bathroom faucet. I heard Veronica come in... it was 4 pm.

I walked out of the bathroom with my tools and began wiping them down. "What time is your game tonight?" She asked curtly.

"6:30. Why?"

"Should I come?"

"Well, BJ will be there."

Her face went red. "For fuck sakes, Kyle! It was a FUCKING HANDJOB! I didn't sleep with him, hell, I didn't even kiss him!"

"So, this was like a hooker fantasy then? I hear they never kiss their Johns." Usually, she liked my warped sense of humour, but I could tell I was royally pissing her off.

Her hand went to her hip, warning me the real attitude was coming. "You know what the best part of jerking off a really big, thick cock? The cum. There's so much cum, it's like a total whiteout! Not a pathetic little puddle on the floor." She smirked at her personal dig.

It landed, alright. It landed hard. I think she saw the shift in my eyes, because she quickly tried to backtrack her words. "Kyle... I'm... shit! I didn't mean that. You just got me so angry." She reached for me, but I shifted enough for her touch to be avoided.

It was early to leave for the game, but getting out was priority number one. Without a word, I was in my truck and headed for the rink. I pulled way in the back of the huge parking lot and sat there contemplating what I was going to do. About ten to six, some of our guys were showing up. I had full view of anyone entering or leaving the rink. Minutes later, Danny and Shelby arrived. Danny looked around the parking lot, but he didn't spot my truck. Most guys were quick to follow, and sure enough, BJ was one of them. I was hoping he'd be a no-show tonight. I don't think he knows I know. If he did, I know he wouldn't show up.

My anger was pushing through the roof. I've played angry before, and it's been a great motivator, but it's usually due to a dirty check or a verbal slur from an opponent. This was a whole other kind of angry. It was ten minutes to game time as I exited my truck, without my hockey gear. I wasn't going to play, but I was going to confront BJ. Not the best plan, but when you're angry, best plans are rarely made. My phone pinged as I walked through the parking lot. I looked down; it was from Digger.

YOU COMIN????

He'd get his answer soon enough, so I put my phone away. I saw a few familiar faces, walking through the lobby. Play hockey long enough and everyone in a rink looks familiar. I turned down the hall towards the dressing rooms and let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding, pushing the door to our dressing room open.

"PRETTY BOY!"

"About fucking Time!

"Always the diva, making a big entrance!"

The boys were having a heyday with my late arrival, but it was Dany who caught the obvious. "Where's your gear?" He immediately knew something was afoot. "Kyle? You alright?"

Without answering him, I scanned the room and couldn't find who I was looking for until he exited the washroom/shower area and re-entered the room. He saw me walking towards him. "Hey, Pretty boy! We were getting worried without our top scorer." My lack of response and the look on my face changed his facial expression and tone instantly. "Hey... hey. You alright?"

I never really understood the whole out-of-body experience thing, but the punch I threw didn't even feel like it came from me. In the biggest cliché. There were two sounds. Me breaking his nose, and him hitting the floor.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" There was that, and many variations of it being yelled in our direction. I stepped over BJ only to be grabbed by several pairs of hands.

"KYLE! What the fuck are you doing?" Danny was pushing me back. I looked deep into his eyes and without a word spoken, he put it together. The fight at his place, my anger walking in, my violent outburst... "Oh, shit."

Many of the boys were helping BJ up from the floor, while others stood in shock. Fights happen in hockey, but rarely in the same dressing room... before the game. By now the boys had BJ sitting on the bench, with a towel over his nose, catching the blood. I took a step towards him, but Danny had a strong grip on me, so I settled for staring BJ down.

"You knew, asshole. You knew she was my wife! Whatever bullshit excuse you told yourself, you knew that. That should have been enough." Danny pulled me hard enough to escort me towards the door.

Once in the hallway, with the dressing room closed, he gently held me against the wall. "Jesus, Kyle. You sure?"

"Like I said that night. I'm not the asshole this time."

Danny shook his head. "What do you want me to do? If you want him gone, he's gone."

I hadn't even thought of that. I mean, I was here long before that piece of shit. Danny and I pretty much ran the team. "It's not up to me or you, Danny. Once it comes out, the team will decide. But I'm done. Maybe next year."

"Dude, you can't be serious! This is our year! What happened is fucking bullshit, but, buddy, we're one win away from finally doing it. Don't let this ruin that part of your life."

An outsider might have seen his speech as selfish, but there was truth in his words. We've all played with a heavy heart. Loss of a pet, a parent, a divorce. Every guy has dealt with some personal adversary, but somehow this felt different. It also had betrayal.

"Good luck tonight." I walked out of the rink, wondering what hornet's nest I just kicked.

There was no going home, so I headed to diggers. I knew enough of the bartenders, so hopefully I could get a bag of ice to put on my knuckles. I wasn't delicate, but I'd never punched a guy in the face before. Face mask... plenty, with gloves on.

After the first beer and a good ice down, I ordered a plate of fries, a Coke, and watched whatever was playing on the big screen behind the bar. It involved horses and jumping. Nothing riveting, but it took my mind off things, at least until I sensed someone sitting on the stool beside me. After a quick glance, I saw Danny motion the bartender for a draft.

Without looking at me, he spoke. "Coulda used you tonight, Pretty boy."

"Sorry, Digger. It just wasn't in me. You guys lost, I'm assuming?"

"Slaughtered." He chuckled. No one's head was in the game after..." He let it hang out there, not laying the blame directly on me.

I took a sip of my pop and pushed some fries around, trying not to feel guilty. "Sorry."

"So, after you busted BJ's nose, he spilled what happened. The whole room knows now. Sorry, buddy."

I shrugged my shoulders. "It was bound to come out. I just sped up the process, I guess."

We sat in silence, both letting the TV attract our attention. I heard a few familiar voices enter the bar, as Macher, Thor and Wilson ambled over to us. Macher stood behind me as the other two grabbed the closest stools and gripped my shoulders with his big palms. "How ya doin', Pretty boy?"

"Living the dream." I raised my French fry in salute to my lie. Macher slapped my back and pulled up the next stool.

The five of us covered the end of the bar where it bent in a 90, making it feel like we were sitting at a table. The boys ordered their own beers, while Danny stole some of my uneaten fries. I could feel the tension coming off of them. They all had something to say, but no one wanted to be the first. So, I broke the ice for them.

"Say what ya got to say, boys. The cat's already out of the bag."

"What BJ did was low, Kyle, but busting his nose was a little over the top?" Wilson started. The other two seemed to nod their heads.

"Yeah, that little show cost us the game tonight." Thor followed up.

I started to get up from my stool, but Danny grabbed my arm. "Easy, Kyle. The boys are just letting off some steam."

"It was just a fucking handjob," Macher whispered, while his head dipped to his beer glass.

Danny's grip wasn't strong enough. I stood up and stared at Macher. "You're right, Macher. Just a handjob. Thor." I looked at him. Margo's one hot broad. You're a lucky man. Next party, you won't mind if I take her into the bedroom and finger-bang her to a couple of orgasms, right?"

Thor shot out of his seat with a huge scowl on his face. "Oh, I see how this works. When it happens to me, it's just a handjob. But putting my fingers in your wife's snatch is a line that can't be crossed? You fucking hypocrites."

Without any fanfare at all, I threw two 20s on the bar and walked out. Danny called for me to come back, but it wasn't happening. Fuck them. Fuck everyone. I ignored the calls from Danny and didn't read any of the texts. It wasn't Danny's fault, but I was pissed at these guys that you once thought you'd go to war with. Seeing Veronica's Honda in the driveway did nothing to help my mood. I sat for a few minutes after shutting off the motor, trying to come up with some semblance of a plan. A plan on how to deal with this situation. Sadly, nothing came to mind.

Veronica

I guess, part of me sees why Kyle is upset, but I can't help but feel that he's being petty. My mom warned me about how fragile a male's ego can be, and up until now, I never thought Kyle was like that. In hindsight, jerking off one of his hockey buddies was probably a bad decision, but I apologized for it. It's not like I fucked him or sucked his cock. It was just my hands. If I could just get him to let me take care of him, he'll see that my heart is only for him. It was just a stupid mistake! My phone started buzzing in my purse.

"Hello?"

"Hey Vernoica, it's Shelby."

"Hey, Shelby. What's up?"

"This thing between you and Kyle. Are you guys okay?" Her voice was full of concern,

"Yeah, yeah. It's not really a big deal. We'll be fine." The words came easy, since I believed that wholeheartedly. I was waiting for a response from Shelby, but the line remained quiet. "Shelby?"

"Uh, yeah. Look, I don't know how to break this to you, but whatever happened is a huge deal to Kyle."

"What do you mean?" I felt my assuredness falter.

"According to Danny, Kyle showed up at the game with no equipment. He just walked in and punched BJ in the face."

"What?!"

"Apparently his nose got busted up pretty good."

"Oh, my God. I... I don't know why he would do such a thing." Once again, Shelby went quiet on the other end. "I know he's been a little off, but why would he punch his friend?" Kyle would never admit to anyone what I did. He would be too embarrassed.

 

"Well, it seemed that BJ knew why." My chest got tight with her last words. "Now everyone on the team knows why."

It was my turn to stay silent. Shelby was a friend, but I met her through Kyle. The real relationship was between them. I was included by marriage default. My brain worked hard to find a way to spin the gossip, but I was unable to translate anything into words.

"What were you thinking, Veronica?" Her voice wasn't callous or angry. She sounded authentically confused.

"It... it was just a handjob."

"And that makes it okay?"

"No, no, no. It doesn't. It was a mistake, and I apologized profusely to Kyle, but he's still so angry."

I heard Shelby sigh on the other side of the phone. "But, why? I thought you and Kyle were solid. I would've bet my life savings on the two of you. Why?"

"Fuck. I... I... when the guys teased BJ, and I found out why, a little switch went off in my head. I used to do that in high school to protect my virginity, then I used it in college as a way to exude power over some of the athletes. I was popular without really giving anything up, too often."

"So, when I told you how he got the nickname, you decided to relive your college days? Why? Because he has a big cock? Let me guess, you had a niche that you worked with in college."

Fuck. How was she easily putting this together? "Most of the players were black, so..." I needed to get her to see things from my perspective. "It was stupid, Shelby. I love everything about Kyle. I have zero complaints about him, his build or his abilities. It's just... well, shit, you know. Sometimes a really big cock makes you do dumb things."

"Sorry. I don't get that. I've been with three guys in total, including Danny. They were all about the same, one a little thicker, maybe a little longer, but none of them would have, by definition, a huge cock. It's not a thing for me, Veronica. Danny is my everything, and that's all that matters to me, so I'd appreciate it if you'd not lump me into the BIG COCKS MAKE ME DUMB club."

"I... I wasn't..."

"Did you tell Kyle this? Did you explain why you did it?"

"Yes."

"Jesus, Vernonica. Why didn't you just stab him in the heart?"

"Why are men so intimidated by another man's bigger cock?! Kyle has nothing to be ashamed about." I was getting flustered.

"I don't know, but answer me this. Why is a bigger cock so important that you'd jeopardize your marriage just to wank it off?"

The conversation dwindled to nothing after that. She asked me to be careful with Kyle's heart, and I let her know that I was offended that she thought I'd do anything else. I'm not sure, but I think she huffed as she hung up.

I was feeling pretty shitty about myself now. BJ should have kept his mouth shut. He promised he wouldn't say a thing. It was a one-off. Our dirty little secret. No one had to get hurt. The more I thought about how far this got out of hand, the more my feelings turned to anger. Shelby and her righteous, I'm NOT A MEMBER OF THE BIG COCK GANG bullshit! All my friends in college talked nonstop about big cocks. Who had them, how big, did they know how to use it? It was college! Life experiences and all that shit! Get it out of your system! Like I did... or did I?

My anger started to relent as I thought about Kyle and what I had to say or do to fix us. I'd never known him to be violent. Sure, he was scrappy when he played hockey, but he always left that part of him on the ice. I had to get him to understand that it's not a relationship killer. Just a mistake. One I'd never do again.

Kyle

"Are you okay, baby?" Vernica was in my face the second I walked in the door.

"What are you talking about?"

"Shelby called me and said you were in some kind of fight at the rink." She was clearly scrutinizing my response.

I pushed past her. "No fight. I just punched your boyfriend in the face."

Vern ran in front of me and put her hand on my chest. "You what? First off, he's NOT MT BOYFRIEND! Secondly, that was childish. Do you feel better now? Feel like a big man?"

"Do I feel better? Yeah. About the bigger man comment, I think we both know that's not my department." I brushed her arm away, walked to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and headed to my basement man-cave.

Thirty minutes later, I heard Veronica coming down the stairs. She looked at the empty loveseat and sat down, like she was waiting for me to acknowledge her. I didn't. "Kyle... baby. Can we please talk?" I picked up the remote, hit the pause button, and tossed it onto the garage sale coffee table.

I looked at her sitting there, likely trying to string another series of lies and accusations together. "You wanted to talk, Vern. The floor's yours."

"Look. I screwed up. If you didn't see us, this would have zero effect on us. It was nothing that really pushed our relationship into a dangerous area. I'm sorry that you feel different, but if you assess the situation with a clear head, you'll be able to see that your pain, your hurt, is... misplaced."

"Misplaced?" It came out almost as a whisper.

"Don't you think your reaction is a little over the top for... for a handjob? There was no intimacy. No expressions of love or lust, even. I'm not looking for a replacement or an upgrade or any other title you can think of. I love you with all my heart, baby. Can't we just put this behind us and get back to where we were?"

The tears in her eyes were a nice touch. Maybe she believed every word coming out of her pretty mouth, but there was still no true act of reconciliation. Was she sorry or just sorry I found out? Was this something she felt entitled to? If I didn't catch her, would it have progressed to something more... intimate? Although stroking a man's cock is pretty intimate to me. I thought her special gift was just that... special. As in, just for me.

I stood up; her weepy eyes followed. "I'm tired of having to explain to you why this is such a big deal. You can't seem to comprehend the damage you did to me, my ego, and my friendships. I can't even step into a fucking dressing room anymore thanks to you and that fuckhead, BJ!" I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "After all this time, I can honestly say that I don't know you right now. I thought you would protect my heart as I did yours."

"Where are you going?" She called out to me as I moved towards the stairs.

"I'll be at my brother's. I need some space, Veronica."

***

Dinner at Danny and Shelby's came with a great deal of apprehension. I was happy to mope in solitude, but it was either come for dinner or spend another night of my brother going off on my bitch of a wife. "Kyle, buddy. I'm telling you the guys feel really shitty about the way they acted at the bar." Danny was trying to soothe the rift from earlier.

"Yeah, my phone's about burnt out from all the calls and text messages." The sarcasm was heavy and noticeable.

"C'mon! You know what guys are like! Too afraid to share emotions... too afraid of saying something stupid, making things worse."

"Didn't seem to stop you." I countered.

"Yeah... but I'm a unicorn!" His smirk made me chuckle. "What? I am! Right, baby?"

Shelby walked into the dining room with a pan of lasagna. "I guess that was the word I used." She put the pan down on some heat warmers and kissed the top of his head before sitting down beside him.

"Well, far be it from me to argue with the Mrs." Shelby pointed her finger at me, daring me to say something further. The gesture made Danny and I laugh.

The meal was delicious, and Shelby topped up our wine glasses as she took the last of the plates into the kitchen. "Shelby... let me do that." I partially stood.

Danny kicked me under the table. "Don't..."

"Are you saying I'm not capable because I am pregnant?" Her look was once again daring me.

Getting the message, I sat down and shut my mouth. Danny started giggling like a tenth grader as she walked out. I took a sip of my wine while Danny wound up for his next sentence. "Are you gonna play tomorrow, Kyle? You know we need you."

"You'll be fine. You've all had time to digest the circus that took place in the room. Heads will be clearer. You guys got this." Danny was about to push further, but the smack on his head shut his mouth.

"I can't believe you're pushing this now! It's not always about winning!" Shelby sat back down at the table.

Danny rubbed his head. "Well, sometimes it is. Right, pretty boy?" I chuckled in response. I wasn't offended by his statement. I want to win as much as the next guy.

Shelby waited us out and then leaned into the table, looking at me. "How are you, Kyle? I mean... really."

Normally this is the moment I'd blow it off and act like it's not bothering me, but Shelby knew me too well, and I respected her too much to lie. I let out a huge sigh. "I don't really know. I'm hurt, angry, sad, lonely. Despite what she did, I miss being with her. You know, the simple mundane things, like cleaning the house or watching a movie together. I miss what we were. I'd give anything to have that back."

Poor Danny was out of his element. He gracefully let Shelby take the lead on this. "Do you think you'll get past this?" She asked calmly.

"That's the golden question, isn't it? That's all I get, day in, day out. How come no one is asking her why and if she'd do it again? I don't think she's even sorry. Sorry she got caught, but according to her, it's only my ego that's keeping us from moving forward."

Danny shook his head in disgust. Shelby gave him a side glance, then turned back to me. "I know she's hurting too, Kyle. I did talk to her a few days ago." I raised my eyebrows at the information. She immediately continued. "For what it's worth, I agree with you. She's upset she got caught, but I don't think she understands the degree of pain she's caused. She sees it as a one-off, no harm, no foul."

I looked at Shelby, digesting her words. "Did she ever tell you about her college days?"

"She alluded to something that dealt with handjobs and athletes."

"Yeah." I paused. "Did she tell you about the group she hung out with? About the serial cheater, the gangbang queen, and the self-diagnosed nymphomaniac?" Shelby shook her head. "I met some of them years ago. I almost broke up with Veronica over it. I told her their influence would only break us up eventually. We fought for weeks, but in the end she agreed to sever ties with them." I chuckled. "She doesn't think I know that she still communicates with them. I never brought it up because our situation seemed solid, but I guess I missed something."

Shelby stood up and came around the table, hugging me while I remained seated. "Don't go making assumptions, Kyle. Deal in facts, not fears." She whispered.

***

The boys lost in a shootout that night. They were winning until the other team scored the tying goal after a series of flukey bounces. With no overtime being allotted, it went straight to a shootout. It took 8 rounds, but the other team got the one they needed to win 3-2 and tie the series at 2-2. Because of a massive farm trade show and a couple of other events, game 5 wasn't for 10 days. Most of the guys would normally be golfing or fishing by this point, so the mumblings were loud and ongoing.

It also allowed enough time for the boys to do an all-out press to get me to play in the final game. I'd been a fairly regular guest at Danny and Shelby's since I moved out, so I shouldn't have been surprised when a bunch of the guys "randomly" showed up at his house one night. The playful ribbing started right away, and despite some initial awkwardness, it was good to be in the mix with them again. Macher and Thor were genuinely remorseful for what they said at the bar that night. I guess my shot about me finger-banging one of their wives hit home. They unanimously agreed as a team that BJ was gone, whether I came back or not. While some took issue with my choice of reaction, they all agreed that what he did was toxic to the group. Even Wilbur, who initially brough BJ into the mix, agreed. It strained their friendship, but during the season, the team came first.

Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was the rekindling of the dressing room camaraderie, but they got me to commit to play the last game. Next thing you know, we were doing shots. Not a great idea on a Wednesday evening. Thankfully, I was able to coerce my brother to come give me a ride home. He seemed genuinely happy that I had a good night and was planning on playing again. He had to give it up years ago after concussion number 3, and lived vicariously through my mediocre play. When we pulled into his driveway, there was a figure sitting on his front steps. As we pulled the length of the driveway and parked, I could tell it was Veronica.

"Want me to tell the bitch to go home?" My brother asked while staring at her through the windshield.

Maybe it was my alcohol level, but I wasn't bothered by her presence. "She's pretty much left me alone till now. I'll talk to her."

He slapped my thigh and got out of his truck, walking right past without even acknowledging her, and entered his house. I let myself out of the truck and waited beside the passenger door for her to make her way towards me.

"I'm sorry to just show up like this, but I wanted to see you." She looked spooked. "How are you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "One day at a time, as they say."

"Why are you drunk?"

"Just left Danny's. The boys were there, and things got a little out of hand."

She actually smiled. "I'm glad you're back with them. I know how much that group means to you." I simply nodded my head as the silence between us built. Finally, she got to the task at hand. "What can I do? What can I do to make this right? Make you see that I can't live without you."

"What advice did the three slutkateers give you?" She was shocked when I used the term I developed for her three college friends. Before she could lie to me, I called her out. "Don't bother, Vern. I'm well aware you still talk to them, even though you promised me you were done with them."

"They were... are my friends, Kyle. I never asked you to stop being friends with anyone."

"Because none of my friends talked to you like you were beneath me. And if they did, I wouldn't need you to tell me to stop hanging around with them. I would've said fuck-off long before." I shook my head at my revelation. "I guess I never read BJ properly, but it's not like he ever insulted you. He just stuck his big old cock into your greedy hands." I could tell she wanted to blow up, but she kept her cool.

"If you must know, they told me I was wrong and should apologize."

I can't believe she kept a straight face when she said that. I started laughing, and that only pissed her off more, but she didn't say anything, waiting for me to finish. "I call bullshit, Vern. That would be the day they would want anyone to apologize to a man." I sighed again. "Why are you really here, Vern?"

She eased her way towards me, reaching for my hand. She thoughtfully looked me in the eyes. "I screwed up. I was selfish and insensitive. Worst of all, I didn't act like your wife. You're right. I should be protecting your heart, not challenging it with stupid decisions and even dumber words."

She was actually saying words that meant something to me. This... this was an apology. Something inside me shifted as I drew her in for a hug. I felt her whole body tremble as her arms wrapped around me tightly. I kissed the side of her head and whispered in her ear. "Thank you." Her body shook some more.

When I released her, she stood back, wiping tears from her eyes. "Will you come home with me, Kyle? Please?"

Call me overcautious. Call me Mr. Negative... just don't call me naive. "I will on two conditions." She nodded her head anxiously. "We take this slow. There's more to talk about." Again, she nodded. "And no sex... of any kind. No pressure, no guilt. We need to deal with this without the influence of sex." I could swear she had a guilty look before she agreed.

***

The last week and a bit had been good for us. The no sex thing was tougher than I thought, quickly realizing that not being able to fuck my beautiful wife was self-inflicted torture. Vern would drop her panties with the slightest signal from me, so our abstinence was 100 percent me. A couple of weeks ago, I couldn't see myself trusting Veronica enough to want to have sex with her, but I have to admit that our time together has put a huge dent in my ability to hold out. To her credit, she hasn't done anything overtly sexual or even flirty, but in my eyes, she's always sexy. We went out for dinner a few times, stayed home and watched movies... just hung out like we did when we first dated. I finally started to believe that maybe we could get past this.

"Score a goal for me." She kissed my cheek as I hauled my gear towards the rink. I watched her make her way over to Shelby and some of the other wives. It looked like they were being gracious to her, so I felt better heading into the dressing room.

The boys made a big ruckus when I entered, and it would have been embarrassing, but thankfully the chirps and put-downs quickly followed. Suiting up with the guys was more therapeutic than I had expected. I looked around the room and soaked up the atmosphere.

Maybe it was me, but I believe it was the boys. We played one of our best games from the first puck drop to the last whistle. There were a lot of smiles and jokes throughout the game, much to the dismay of our opponents. Not only were we winning, but we were having fun too. An occasional look into the stands confirmed that our women were into it as well, cheering us on with every close call. I never did score a goal; in fact, I don't remember even taking a shot on net. No, my contributions came in the form of primary assists. I had been instrumental in all 4 of our goals, which led us to a 4-1 victory.

With our championship t-shirts slung over our shoulders, we entered the dressing room, singing We Are the Champions, like a bunch of 12-year-olds. Bro hugs went around the room, and more than a few beers were poured over some heads, mine included. Danny grabbed my hand and pulled me in for the bear hug.

"We did it, buddy!" He yelled.

"About fucking time!" I yelled back.

"Hammers?" He asked as he released me.

"Fuckin A! I'll go tell the girls to meet us there."

Soaked in beer, and sans any upper body clothing, I walked out of the room on my skates and headed to the lobby area where everyone warms up after being rinkside. When I pushed open the door, some of the wives whistled at my sweaty, beer-soaked form. Shelby was the only one brave enough to hug me.

"Good game, Kyle!"

"Thanks, Shel. You seen Vern?"

"She's in the bathroom."

"Okay. We're heading to Hammers to celebrate. You girls wanna go along and reserve us some tables?"

"Of course!" She smiled. "Lets go girls. We've been summoned to do our wifey duties." She winked at me and started pushing the girls out the door. "Go tell Veronica to meet us outside."

I walked down the little hallway towards the restrooms, deciding I'd just wait outside the door for her to come out. I hadn't needed to worry about waiting. When I rounded the corner, I came across my wife, hugging no other than BJ. I never said a word, but I guess my body involuntarily made some kind of sound, as her head whipped around to see me standing there. Her face immediately went white with fear.

"Kyle? It's... it's not what you think?" Her voice cracked.

BJ quickly released my wife from his arms and headed for the convenient exit located at the other end of the hall. Taking my cue from him, I turned to make my own exit.

"Kyle? Kyle?" Veronica tried to grab my arm, but due to the sweat and beer, her grip was lost immediately. I pushed through the lobby doors and stomped back to the dressing room.

 

She had enough sense not to follow me into the dressing room, as she held up and called my name one last time before I entered the room. The celebration was still going on, and a fresh beer was stuffed into my hands. Without a thought, I chugged the beer as fast as I could, ending it with a resounding belch.

"Someone get me another!" My demand simply increased the party atmosphere. At that moment, I realized that I wasn't going to lose this moment because of my slut of a wife, so I joined in with every intention of dealing with it later.

Forty minutes later, Danny and I arrived at Hammers. I had already made the decision not to confront Vern here tonight. As we approached the steps, Shelby came out the door and stood in front of me. "Kyle? Can we talk?"

Danny looked at his wife, then at me. "Should I be here?"

"Go inside, sweetie. We'll be right in." Shelby rubbed Danny's arm. We drifted off the steps into the parking lot before she addressed me again. "Kyle. I know what you're thinking, but it's not what you think." Before I could get a word out, she spoke over me. "She came to me crying her eyes out. We all saw BJ come in and watch the game from the far corner. He clearly wanted to see you guys win. While we acknowledged him being there, no one, including Veronica, attempted to speak with him."

I moved over to the lamppost that lit up the lot and leaned my back against it. Standing was feeling like a tiresome chore. Sensing my fading interest, Shelby started up again.

"When she came out of the bathroom, she literally ran into BJ. He was trying to make a quick exit. Veronica said he looked really sad, so she apologized for what happened between them and for him getting kicked off the team. She said he looked like he was going to cry, so she hugged him. That's when you came around the corner."

I dwelled on her words for a minute. "Did you see this encounter, Shelby?"

"No. That's what she told me happened. It kind of makes sense, doesn't it, Kyle?" I simply stared at the ground, not sure how to answer that. "At any rate, I took Veronica home because she didn't want to ruin your celebration tonight. She said she'd be there to talk with you after, if you wanted."

We spoke no other words after that and entered the bar where the team was well on their way in celebration. About 15 minutes later, Danny slipped in beside me and handed me a fresh cold one. I could tell he had talked with his wife. We tapped bottle necks and took a big swig.

"Any idea what you're going to do? You believe her story? I must admit that it sounds very plausible."

I nodded my head in agreement. It's true. It was a plausible explanation. One that I never ever would have second-guessed, as little as a month ago. I pulled at the label on my beer and chuckled. "You know what the worst part of this is, Digger? That I'm even doubting her."

2 years later:

"She's sure smart with the puck." I looked over at Danny, holding Levi in his arms.

"Yeah, she's got real vision. Just don't tell her I said that." We both chuckled. "Ya, my Shelby's good, but that one there... she's a whole other level."

He pointed at number 11 on the other team. He wasn't wrong. I've watched her all game. She had hustle, speed, and some tenacity. A part of me thought about asking her to play on our team, but I doubt the guys were ready to admit that some women can play as good as us. The final buzzer sounded, and Danny and I gradually made our way down from the stands and ventured towards the dressing room entrance. Sure enough, Shelby came out with her helmet off, sweaty long hair still tied in a ponytail.

"Where's my big boy?" She cooed as she approached us. Of course, Levi went nuts and almost dove for his mother.

"Clearly a moma's boy." I teased Danny, but he was all smiles. "Good game Shelby." I offered.

"Please... we got slaughtered." She was nibbling at Levi's ear.

"Well, you played great." I reaffirmed.

"If only we could teach you how to shoot," Danny stated, then ducked behind me as Shelby faked a punch in his direction.

"Do we need to call security?" Another female voice joined in. She wore a jersey from the opposing team. Number 11.

"Not necessary Mam. This doofus knows who runs the house." I pointed at Danny, who acted hurt by my comment.

"You should be proud of your mommy, Levi. She played a heck of a game tonight." Levi smiled as the woman leaned towards him.

"Pretty good game yourself, 11." She turned from Shelby and leaned in to kiss me.

"Thanks, Honey. Think I could play on your team? Think about the after-game showers." She wiggled her eyebrows at me, causing us all to laugh.

"Sadly, that would be the only thing that would win the guys over, and I ain't sharing you in the showers." She punched my chest lightly.

"Well, I already told you, I don't share." She smiled. "Their loss!"

"Ain't that the truth," Digger jumped in, getting a smile from her and his wife.

As you have figured out by now, Veronica and I didn't make it. Oh, we tried. We even went to counseling for a time. I struggled with why I had a hard time trusting her. Everything the counsellor said and suggested made sense, but I could never fully re-commit, and that eventually got to Veronica. It didn't help when I got a drunken phone call from one of her college friends, that gangbang queen, as I liked to call her. As best as I could tell through her slurring, I was lucky a girl like Veronica married me. I should be grateful and put my ego to bed because she could be with any hot guy she wanted, so I needed to wise up. She finished the call by yelling at me... "It was just a fucking handjob, you pussy!"

That call confirmed two things. Veronica's college friends were a real piece of work, and two, not only was she still in contact with the slutkateers, but she'd been seeking their advice on how to handle me and the situation. Of course I confronted her, and after initially denying it, she finally admitted that she had never severed ties with them. I guess that was the proverbial straw that broke this camel's back. The divorce was civil, and we separated long before the final decree was in.

As for number 11. Kendra was all fate or just dumb luck. I was out with Danny and the family for dinner one night when this gorgeous raven-haired woman stepped up to our table and made a big fuss over Levi. She and Shelby clearly knew each other, but Danny and I were in the dark. Shelby finally introduced us after smothering Levi with attention.

"Honey, this is Kendra Molsen. She plays for the Lady Hawks and is my nemesis on the ice." She playfully growled at the woman. "And this is our friend Kyle." She gestured to me.

I won't bore you with all the clichés, but the minute our eyes met, we had a moment. Well, I had a moment. Hopefully she did too. "Pretty boy, isn't it?" Digger burst out laughing. "Not much of a hockey nickname, is it?" She teased.

"You're not wrong." I smiled. "But then again, I didn't pick it. Ruggedly handsome wouldn't have been appropriate for a 13-year-old."

"Wouldn't be appropriate now either." Digger scoffed, getting him a swipe in the arm from his wife.

Kendra looked me over with her deep brown eyes. "I don't know..." She paused. "I think it would fit just fine." Her smile made my heart beat faster.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss Molsen. Would you care to join us for dinner, or are we keeping you from someone?" I decided to be as forward as possible. She acted intrigued.

Kendra looked over her shoulder at a small group of women. "Not really." She looked at Shelby. "Would that be okay? I wouldn't be intruding?"

"God no! A little offset of all this testosterone at the table would be welcome." Shelby laughed.

"Alright." Kendra looked at me. "I'll just go tell my friends that I'm having dinner with my future husband." Both Digger and I spit out our respective beers, which only made her and Shelby laugh harder.

I watched her walk towards her group, thinking women's hockey butts are the best. "Dude! You are so in trouble with this one!" Danny poked.

"Yeah... you could be right, buddy. In fact, I hope you are!"

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