Never Again

** PATRICK'S POV **

After I sent Rick with my message for my second puck bunny of the day, I decided to take my time taking off the rest of my equipment. Unlike a lot of the guys, I didn't have a family that I had to rush home to in a good mood that I didn't want to be in. I had all the time in the world to sulk in our loss, and to think about everything I could have done better during the game. As much as each loss we suffered hurt, there was always some excitement that came along with them for me. To me, a loss meant that I could be as rough as I want with my bunny without her complaining. There truly is no better way to get out all of my frustrations than a good fuck with a girl I won't ever have to see again. I'll never understand how Sharpie goes home every night to the same girl and two kids. I mean sure, Madelyn and Sadie are cute as a button, but kids tie a man down to one girl. And am I ready to be tied down to one girl for the rest of my life? Hell no. The only love that I'll ever have for the rest of my life is my love for girls who want their 15 minutes of fame.

Thinking about the brunette behind the penalty box again really got me excited for what was to come tonight. I looked at my cell phone to see the time, and I saw that I had a text from my sister Erica.

Erica: Don't do anything stupid tonight.

I chuckled at my sisters concern for my well being. Unfortunately for her, we had different definitions of stupid. Having sex with a puck bunny to get out my frustration isn't stupid to me, far from it. What's stupid is having a steady relationship at my young age of 24. Sooner than later, it will become unacceptable to society for me to be sleeping around. Being in the spotlight only guarantees that. The media will only swallow my 'I'm young and if I were in college instead of being a professional hockey player, this wouldn't be an issue at all' excuse for so long. I know that my time is running out, and I think it would be stupid for me to let it go to waste.

I finished taking off my equipment and I handed my bag off to Rick for the night. He's really a great guy; I have a lot of respect for him. He puts up with all of the guys' shit; pranks included, and cleans all of our sweaty equipment after every game and practice to ensure maximum happiness in the dressing room. He also helps me out with my bunny hunt from time to time without telling coach Q, which is really great of him. I hope he stays with the Hawks for years to come, and I know I'm not the only one who feels that way. A couple of the guys and I like to slip him a monthly bonus of a few hundred bucks for the great work he does for us. He really doesn't get paid enough for what he does, and we want to make sure he knows that he's appreciated.

After taking a quick shower and putting my suit back on, I walked to my car. Once I started driving towards Trump Tower, I looked at the time again and noticed that I had a half hour before the best part of my night would start. I may have put a little more pressure on the accelerator, hoping that by speeding up my car, time would speed up as well.

Unfortunately that didn't appear to be the case. I got home at 11:40, with 20 minutes to kill. I paced around the main room trying to pass the time, but then I opted to make myself a post-game snack. I looked in my fridge and smirked when I saw leftover pasta from dinner at the Sharp's a few days ago. Just what I needed: carbs. Carbs provide energy, which I will definitely need a lot of tonight. Hopefully the girl had a good pre-workout meal too. It's going to take a lot for her to keep up with me tonight, I can feel it.

As the clock hit midnight, I began to get impatient. Girls are never late when I extend them a late night invitation. Actually, it's not uncommon for them to end up at my place before I even get there. My neighbours always give me questionable looks as to why I have different girls sitting outside my apartment all the time, but I couldn't care less. It's always worth the looks I get. You know what they say: sex is a lot like pizza. Even when it's bad, it's still pretty good.

I took a seat on my couch and I looked at the time again. It's 12:03, and this girl still isn't here. Great, this is exactly what I needed. Her tardiness is making me even more frustrated than I already was to begin with, and I can feel my previous excitement leaving my body as frustration and anger made themselves comfortable within me. I wonder what the rest of the guys are doing tonight. They probably all went to a bar to drink themselves stupid and maybe go home with a girl if there were any good ones. I wished I was with them. Even if there were no good girls at the bar, there was surely a girl who would come home with me. At least then I'd be getting some.

Sadly I had no idea what bar the guys were at and I knew that there was no way that they would answer their phones. Some of them turn their phones off after a loss so that way they can isolate themselves from the real world for a few hours. I decided that I had no other options, and I flipped through my pay-per-view movies hoping for something to help me get my frustration out. My hand wasn't what I wanted, but tonight, it looked like it was all I would get.

I was about to hit the 'purchase' button on my television when I heard three knocks. They were so faint that I wasn't sure that I had actually heard them. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me and teasing me for having to do things the hard way. It would be so much easier to bring a girl home from a bar.

I looked at the clock again. It was 12:07. I decided to wait another minute to see if more knocks would follow, and sure enough they did. I quickly erased all evidence of the movie I was about to purchase and I opened my door.

♦ ♦ ♦

There she stood. My bunny for the evening. She was hotter than I remembered her to be from a few hours ago. Up close, I could see all of her features: her flawlessly smooth skin, her healthy, thick hair and I noticed all of the curves on her body. Apparently my eyes weren't the only part of me to notice how good she looked, because Patrick Jr. down there was asking for a better look too.

"Hey."

She said it so quietly that like her knocks, I wasn't completely sure that I had heard it.

I couldn't bring myself to reply to her greeting just yet. I usually don't spend this much time observing the girls at my door, but she's different. It's been a very long time since I've seen a girl with natural good looks like her. The girls I bring home are always pretty fake, both look and personality wise. Not that it was a bad thing, but this was just a refreshing change.

"Hey. I'm Patrick, but I'm sure you already know that. Come on in."

"Lacey."

She stuck out her hand for me to shake it, which is weird to me. Usually girls at this point have me pinned down against my couch, not still standing in my doorway introducing themselves to me. Lacey stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. I decided she maybe needed a little push in the right direction.

"Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I'll go get us a drink. Smirnoff okay?"

"Fine, thanks."

I watched her as she walked to my couch. Damn, even her ass is great. After a brief trip to the kitchen, I returned to the main room and took a seat next to her, handing her the bottle in my hand.

"Thanks, Patrick."

"Please, call me Pat."

"Okay."

Silence. I turned my head to observe the girl sitting next to me, and I noticed how terrified she looked. Suddenly, I don't think that my night is going to go as planned. Again.

Lacey was the one to finally break the silence between us.

"So... Why did you ask me to come here, Pat?"

Damn, straight to it, this one. Although to be honest, most girls didn't have to ask that question. They know my reputation, and they know exactly why I invite them here.

I contemplated lying to her, but opted for telling her the truth in hopes that she'd cave to my request.

"Honestly? I invited you here to fuck. I thought you were another bunny, but I can see that I'm wrong. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable."

I braced myself for her response, and I wanted to laugh when it came.

"What's a bunny?"

"Seriously Lacey? Of everything I just said, that's what sticks out to you?"

She laughed, and I could swear there was no sweeter sound to ever hit my ears.

"Seriously, Pat."

I stared at her as she brought the bottle of smirnoff to her lips, contemplating an answer for her.

"Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but.... a bunny is a furry little animal, very cute actually. They hop around and look cute, and that's about all they do. There's actually a pretty famous bunny, you may have heard of it. Does the Easter bunny ring a bell to you?"

What the hell, Pat? Where did that answer come from? Man, I'm going soft. The normal Pat would never even dream of calling any living creature 'cute', and yet here I am.

Her laughter rang through the room again and all of a sudden it became very clear where that answer came from-- It was almost a bodily reflex. I would do anything to make her laugh. Every time she laughs, I feel some of my frustrations leaving my body in a way I've never experienced before. It might not be sex, but it's pretty good, too.

Notes