Chapter Four
Carson
There’s not a game today, so after practice this morning, we’re working out. Tyler, a teammate and good friend, spots me as I lift weights. He’s a few years younger than me at twenty-five while I’m twenty-nine. My birthday is coming up, which is what we’re talking about right now.
“You’re fucking old, Carson,” he comments.
“I’m not thirty yet, so shut up,” I breathe, pushing the bar up.
“Close enough. Plan on settling down with this big birthday?”
I lower it and push it back up before resting it back in place. Sitting up, I turn to face him with a glare. “Why would I ‘settle down’ just because I’m turning thirty? You know I don’t want that shit. I don’t need it.” And that’s the truth. I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember, in every aspect of my life, and I’ve come to like it. Not about to change that because of my age.
“Yeah, I guess. You’ll be hockey’s Hugh Hefner, right?”
I laugh. “Yeah, why not? Your turn.”
We switch places and he chuckles. “I can totally see you in your eighties with a twenty-something year old next to you. That’s so going to be your life, Carson.”
“For the most part, it already is.” I grin. So many women come in and out of my house. The reputation of a “man-whore” does funny things to them. It’s like they want a taste, a night of fun, but they are hoping they can make such an impact that they can change me. I’ve seen it too many times. That’s not how it works. I like who I am, and I like my life. Why would I want to change? And as long as I don’t want to, I won’t change. A lot of women don’t seem to understand that though.
“What are you going to do for your birthday? We have a game, but that’s never stopped you from celebrating before.”
“I don’t know yet,” I answer. “Home game, right?”
“Yep.”
We could have a party at my house afterwards. Or go out to a club. I’ll think of something. Mike will have a fit if I have a party the same magnitude as last year, especially since he says I need to straighten up my act. I donate to charities, not that I make it well-known. I discretely visit the kid’s at the children’s hospital a few times a year and spend all day with them.
Just because I buy nice things, sleep with hot women, and get into a little trouble here and there, doesn’t mean I need to change my ways. It’s not like I have a reason to do what Mike wants, other than the fact that he wants me to do it. No one cares but him and that’s because his job depends on it. It’s not the only reason he cares, but that’s besides the point.
After the workout, I go home for a nap, eat, and then head to the bar. If my life wasn’t the way it is, I would seriously consider Mike’s suggestion about my lifestyle. But my life isn’t different. It’s not going to change either. I’m going to keep doing whatever the hell I want. Mike be damned.
I sip on my whiskey, scanning the room. No one looks particularly interesting, but they don’t have to either. Catching the eye of the bartender, I lift my finger for him to bring another.
“You’re Carson Lee, right?”
I turn at the sound of a girl’s voice, and girl is the correct term. She’s young, but most likely no younger than twenty, and she has a friend. Both blondes. “Yes, I am, sweetheart.” I grin.
They both giggle and each rest a hand on my knees. “We’re huge fans,” they say together.
“Oh really?” The girls nod. “Can I buy you ladies a drink then?”
“Thanks,” they answer.
Good. At least they’re twenty-one. The bartender brings them some fruity drink as they gush with excitement over meeting me. I smile and nod at all the right places, letting them talk. When they finally take a breath, I lean towards them, causing them to lean towards me as well.
“How about we take this party somewhere more private?” You’d think the girls won the lottery by the grins on their faces. It’s been a while since I’ve taken two women home, but I’m definitely up for the challenge.
~
Luckily, the girls wanted to go to their apartment instead of my house, which means I didn’t have to worry about kicking anyone out but myself early this morning. Wams, bams, thank you, ma’ams. I chuckle to myself at the thought as I head out to my warehouse-like building on my vast property. With lots of money to spend, I decided I needed my own rink. Not only could a bunch of us get together to play, but we could party there as well with a few additional rooms included just for fun.
My rink should be done very soon. The finishing touches are being done and that’s what I’m checking in on today before I head to morning practice. I doubt I’ll get the chance later since there’s a game tonight. Charlie, the man in charge of the project, is outside waiting for me when I park. He firmly shakes my hand without smiling when I approach him.
“Well? Please tell me there haven’t been any more setbacks.” This should have been done months ago, but little setbacks added up.
“No setbacks, sir. It’ll be ready for your enjoyment by the end of next week.”