Just For Tonight

eleven

Levi

Practice sucked.

My right knee still aches in the place it was kicked last Saturday making drills uncomfortable to do. My left pinky finger throbbed as a reminder of the punch I threw after a bad decision. Everything about Saturday—minus seeing Hayden—was a bad decision. I should've never gone out to try and rectify my actions, leading to more shitty consequences.

I still thought about what I said to Hayden, and how I made it seem. I was an asshole to assume anything more than what she's told me, and a real dick for making her feel like shit. Normally I brushed feelings off like dust, but for some reason, the bitter regret of my words simmered low in my stomach all week.

"You alright, man?"

My fingers stopped the work of stripping my gear from my body at the words. Wells chucks his helmet to the ground by his locker, looking at me expectantly.

"Yea, all good." He didn't need to worry, I didn't need his concern.

It was already bad enough that he saw the fight happen, helped me cover it up, and act like it was all okay. But it was even worse that he now had this piece of information I wish he hadn't, like now he had leverage over our friendship that he didn't before.

I wasn't an open notebook, unsurprising to many. My career consisted of press and invasive questions whenever I needed to do media, which felt like pulling a tooth to me. I hated the attention, absolutely despised it. If I could play hockey professionally as I am now with none of it—I would.

But fame came with the game, and with the fame came invasion of privacy.

Wellesley was the first person on the Boston Browns to approach me all those years ago at training camp. He immediately started rambling about plays, odds, and who he thought would make it through like we'd been friends already.

I never did say much to him that day but he also didn't pry, and I respect people who don't pry. This is why right now I'm not exactly fond of the direction this conversation is going.

"You're so full of shit but you also scare me so I'm not going to dig, but if I see you lose your cool again we're talking about it." He stops in front of me and drops something onto my lap. "You might want to see this," he gestured to the weight in my lap.

It's his phone, opened up to pictures from a gossip website. Immediately I get angry.

It's pictures of Hayden and I— the girl I wasn't sure would ever want to see me again, leaving the club on Saturday. I've got a hand around her wrist and she's got her signature flirty smile on her face. The same smile that grabbed my attention that first night.

Nothing about this is what I need right now. Luckily my head was dropped so the shiner on my eye was out of sight. But everything else was on display, the principle of it was blasted for everyone to see.

Levi Mills spotted with potential girlfriend? Or is it just a fling? Read more BELOW!

"Fuck," I toss Wells his phone.

"Yea, fuck." Wells sits beside me on the bench. I glare at him, and he smirks.

"Just a friend, eh? You still seeing her?" He nudged my shoulder and I slapped his hand away. Ignoring his question I make fast work at undoing my equipment so I can get the fuck out of here and figure out how I'm going to reverse all the publicity this has already done.

I worked hard for years rectifying what she did. Left no stone in turned in banishing my image from the internet to the best of my ability.

And one lapse in judgment, one night of giving in and I was headline news.