Sexy Hockey Player Hook Up Ch. 01

I couldn't wait to get out of this town after graduation. The weather and scenery in Colorado couldn't be beat. It's a place where you can hike and snow ski every day as long as there is enough daylight. Winters are cold and summer could be scorching, as were the girls.

We have our share of cute college girls who like hanging out with us. Most were more interested in me because I was going to be the number one draft pick. And the ladies wanted me to be their ticket out of town. I wasn't into girlfriends. I decided a long time ago to keep myself on a strict diet of hook ups, uncommitted is what I'd call it. I wasn't looking to become boyfriend material. Dating wasn't fun. I know it's supposed to be fun. Going out to dinner in a ritzy place for was as swanky as it got for me. And that was only if the girl played hard to get. I'm not a dumb jock. I find it annoying when my date spends more time texting her millennial friends than conversing with me. I'm irritated by it but if she puts out, I won't say no.

The team was my family because I was a long way from home and we all loved playing hockey. Magness Arena wasn't a huge or glamorous rink. Nestled in the foot hills it had been my home for the last four years. I gave it my all every time my skates hit the ice. We were the other jocks on campus. Let's face facts, hockey isn't the number one sport to most college students. But in this town, many locals lived and died by our wins and losses. It's the number one school for hockey players who make it into the NHL after college. It may not be as pretty as the quarterback on the varsity high school team, but I can live with that.

I'm not the typical student. I pass my classes in business management and go to practice. We're gearing up for the play offs but I'm ready for the big leagues. I'm nervous but I don't show it. I can't. No matter what hockey is tough and we are the fucking toughest of tough. We play banged up, sometimes with cracked ribs. Most of us have lost a few chicklets before we hit the pros. So far, I was lucky, my smile is intact.

I throw my ragged, smelly hockey bag in the trunk and feel like I'm desecrating my red Hellcat Charger. Red because I like it and it's our school color. I let out a sigh and close the lid.

"Hey, Jackson, can I get a ride?" I hear Tyler yell to me. He's coming out of the house with a heavy bag slung over his shoulder. He's got massive biceps that can rock a puck.

"Sure," I get in and rev up the engine. It was a gift from my parents before graduation. Wealthy parents had its privileges. Fast cars and lose girls. I didn't want for anything.

"Thanks. Man, its hot today. Can't wait to get in the rink," he says opening a sport drink and clicking his seatbelt.

I smiled, he knows me. I back out like an ordinary person and then I drive as fast as I can once we leave our neighborhood of houses. If Tyler didn't know me he'd have white knuckles as I illegally passed cars and just miss kissing the side mirrors of some. Double yellow lines were fun if you knew the road and no one got hurt.

"Jezz, Jackson. It's a new car," he finally speaks.

"I know. Don't worry. I have the draft coming up. I'm not going to risk it in a car accident," I calmly state. Everyone was excited for me going into the NHL. I kept the lid on it for the most part. I didn't want to come off arrogant. The draft was a big deal and I had absolutely no control over what team would pick me. I didn't know how many rounds would pass before I found my new home. It's the best time of my life but it can be stressful. I keep my excited yet terrified thoughts to myself.

We slide into a parking spot in front of the arena. Grabbing our gear we meander into the rink. Strolling through the opening doors the crisp cold air blasts us. The other guys are trickling in, we should have a full team today. Thankfully flu season had come and gone. Nothing worse than playing sick or being a healthy scratch.

"Hey, Jackson," Luke, our defenseman walks past me giving me a fist bump. "You down to go out tonight?"

"Sure."

"Cool. I'll hit you up with the details later."

We practiced hard and did a good job. We chill out in the locker room afterwards for our daily shower beer and the ceremonial passing around of Jell-O shots. Someone brought grape Cool Aid with vodka. Hell, we'd drink anything with alcohol in it. We talk smack in the locker room, toss each other a second beer and sometimes things get a bit crazy.

We started the evening off by going to Cheddars to eat. It's a family style restaurant but more importantly it's a place where we could eat a fuck ton of calories and come out for under $50 with all the alcohol we could consume. We all give each other a hard time about one thing or another. We'll razz each other about a missed play, a puck that went AWOL or a player that fell for no apparent reason. Repeating embarrassing stories of the past was the norm for us. It was all in good fun. We were a family. We even had our own language. Hockey players can carry on conversations using only hockey lingo. True fact.

The price of dinner didn't bother me but I knew most of the guys were on tight budgets. We weren't allowed to get paid to play hockey. We could get scholarships like other sports but we couldn't sign any contracts with teams.

I was one of the few players that came here on a golden ticket. Meaning my parents picked up everything and I had a scholarship. Some of my player's friends didn't have such a sweet deal. I wasn't oblivious to the fact that some people work very hard to make it to college. Not everyone was lucky enough to play for a minor league hockey team if they didn't make it into the NHL. Some of my fellow teammates would hang up there hockey skates after the season ended and others would play in beer leagues.

The NHL was a dream come true for me just like it would be for any person who started playing hockey from the time they could walk. If we didn't love the game we wouldn't be playing because the pain isn't worth it. Hockey players play with injuries to the upper and lower body and at times we had to sit out do to concussions. We had to make a win happen even if our legs went blown from fatigue and our lungs were gasping for air.

All players in every sport push themselves to the limit to become the best player in the league. Hockey players don't have a flair for the dramatics like other sports figures. I've seen players limp off the ice with broken ankles. But we make it to the bench and keep the game rolling. Every second counts.
We decided to continue the party by going to a local pub called Twin Peaks. We knew it had the cheapest drinks in town and the waitresses were scantily clad. Need I say more? We sat around making small talk with each other chit chatting with girls passing by as we watched the college hockey games on TV. It was an inexpensive way to pass the evening until the nightclubs opened.
Tonight we were trying out the latest club called Scarlett's. Scarlett's was a two story club with a roof top that could only be used in summertime. After midnight you had to get a private table and buy your alcohol by the bottle. I have to say this is where my parent's credit card came in pretty handy.
There were some girls milling around that knew us and were flirting with the guys. I know Tyler, Luke and Alan all had a few women hanging off of them. I usually do but tonight I just didn't seem to be in the mood.
The pressure of the draft coming up was weighing heavily on me. I started drinking tequila. I wasn't a novice who thought it was cool slinging back one shooter after another. That only made people get fucked up fast and act stupid. I can drink anything but I liked top shelf liquor. I liked Anejo tequila, smooth and smoky. It can coat your throat on the way down and warm your belly at the same time.
I decided to join my teammates at the bar. A few of them had wandered out onto the dance floor with some chicks. Dancing was something I did, I guess you can say it's not something I enjoyed. But it seemed to be popular with the girls. So I learned a few moves over the years.
There were two things women thought about men. If they had a large shoe size they had a large dick. The second, if they could dance well they could usually fuck well. I think the latter would probably fit me and was probably the deciding factor of every dance step I learned. I never had any formal training so I picked up a few moves from the guys and I make it look good.
I didn't have any feelings of attraction for the girls standing around me. But I was kind of keyed up after our practice and needed to let off steam. I wanted to feel something tonight to get my mind off of everything racing through it.
I began walking down the bar towards the dance floor while perusing the girls. I don't know if you could say I had a type. I usually went for a normal Midwestern girl. I found them to not be as high maintenance as girls from larger cities. Then again, maybe there is nothing wrong with knowing what you wanted. I wouldn't say ordering the most expensive thing on the menu made a girl high maintenance. Some girls knew what they liked and I respected that.

One thing sports had taught me was how to get along with others who were different. We had different backgrounds, techniques and personalities. Accepting differences that weren't worthy of wasting your time on saved you a lot of grief in the long run. You learned how to keep your eye on the prize, the score board.

I was about to go find the guys and hang out with whomever I found when the song by Lil Nas X came on and two girls took to the dance floor. They were dressed in short dresses and cowboy boots. They had a choreographed dance to the song Old Town Road and it looked fantastic. I'm wondering what is up with this? Do they work here? Is this a new line dance? The dance floor cleared and more girls and even guys joined them.

I have to say the two that started the dance were cute and I enjoyed their moves. One had olive skin with black hair and dark eyes and the other was the opposite. She had brown hair and light skin. I found myself mesmerized by the dark haired girl and was disappointed when the song came to an end. Maybe I should meet her, I thought.

They exited the dance floor and the two made their way to the bar. I knew the guys in this place would be all over them so I'd better move. But I could be slick with the ladies. I wasn't worried.

By the time I made it to the bar there were guys all over them chatting them up and talking about music.

"Hey, I liked your dance. You two are awesome. Can I buy you both a drink?" I butt into the conversation. Free drinks are good ice breakers.

The two looked at each other before accepting. I ordered a whisky sour for myself as the ladies landed themselves a chair at the bar. I pay the bartender giving him a big tip as I stood swirling the whisky around in the glass.

"You guys were awesome out there. I didn't know about that line dance. Not like it's something I would be coordinated enough to do," my big mouth and deep voice throw myself under the bus graciously.

"I'm sure you are too hard on yourself," the dark haired girl speaks. "Thanks for the drinks." She extended her hand, "My name is Olivia, and this is my best friend Mirra."

Electricity leaped the synapses between us and our hands lock for our brief introduction. Was it me or did she feel it too?

She gently let go of my large hand in order to place hers delicately in her lap. I check out her ring finger, no ring there. She did wear a silver and turquoise one her right ring finger as well a dainty string of pearls on her right wrist. I found myself starring at her full lips covered with the perfect shade of glossy red lip stick. Her black mini dress matched her boots.

Mirra shakes my hand as well.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Jackson." and I caught Olivia smiling. Did she recognize me? Did she like me? I couldn't tell. But the fact that she wasn't repelled by a jock made me happy.

The bar is getting busy because it's close to midnight. The noise level is going up making it hard to hear the conversation.

"Do you come here often?" Typical one liner. I bet she gets this all the time. Why was my brain not firing on all cylinders tonight? This hasn't happened since my first date in junior high school.

"When we can," Oliva sips her martini with blue cheese olives. "Finals are coming up and we both work."

"Where do you work?"

"We work at a shady bar near campus. It's a real dive but we make good money."

"So where did you learn the dance?"

"There is a place closer to Denver called the Ranch and they have line dancing classes a few nights a week. Saturday is their night for the dances everyone has learned. They also do concerts."

"So, you are a country music lover?"

"Sometimes. Depends. I don't want to limit myself to one type of music. My mother loves the 80s so I'm pretty versed in alternative music too."

I chuckle. She's cute and friendly. With a wide range of music choices no doubt. I wondered what else she liked.

"Mirra used to be a dancer so these dance numbers come easy to her. I have to practice them a lot before I know them," she volunteers.

"Oh, posh posh," Mira waved her hand as if she was shooing a fly away. "She's not giving herself enough credit. I think she does just fine. Don't let her fool you. She's very smart."

"No doubt," I agree.

Olivia asked the bartender for a glass of water. She was drinking her martini slowly, and nibbling on the olives. I thought it was cute. She didn't know I was watching her.

Another song came on that I knew and I thought I'd make points if I asked her to dance.

"Sure. Mira, will you watch our drinks and save my chair?" Oliva asked sliding her chair back to get up.

"Of course, run along you two," Mira replied turning to a man who had approached her.

We made our way through the crowd and danced to the next pop song, the Wobble. It was an organized dance I knew because it had been around for a long time.

"You do this dance well," Oliva compliments me.

"It helps I had a friend get married last year. The bride wanted the wedding party to do a flash mob on the dance floor. I can't take all the credit for it," I smile.

She nodded her head and the song came to an end. I was relieved she exited the crowded floor and we returned to the bar.

"Do you want another drink?" I offer.

"One more, then I'm done. I have to go soon."

"Okay," I look over to Mirra and she's taken with the man she's talking to and she already has another drink.

"How is your team doing this year?" Olivia asks.

I'm surprised since I wasn't sure if she recognized me earlier. It's a hit and miss thing.

"Great. Can't complain. We've been out since practice tonight. My buddies are around here somewhere," and I casually throw a glance around the bar to see if I can find anyone. The guys seem to be busy somewhere. "What's your major?"

"I'm going to be a graphic artist in marketing. I don't know where I'll end up yet. I did an internship locally."

"I'm sure the internship will help you find a job," I try to be encouraging. "Maybe I had you in some of my classes."

"Who would ever know? Those big auditoriums filled with hundreds of people. It's not conducive to a good learning environment. It's their way of weeding out as many students as they can as quickly as possible," she replied with a note of brutal honesty.

And I know she's right. There are certain fields that have lots of applicants and not enough spaces on the rooster. So, they deploy a way to balance that by making classes so hard students drop out of the program.

"I'm a business major, I live it daily," I roll my eyes. "But it's my last semester," I add.

"Mine too. Where are you going next?" she asks and I see her eyes are hazel, a mixture of green and light brown with flecks of gold. She's easy to talk to. Her hair is so dark it's got a blue hue to it and it's shiny, falling in waves to the top of her shoulders. She's beautiful and I don't think she knows how hot she looks.

"I'm not sure. Depends on who drafts me."

"Wow, that's so cool. Congrats."

"Thanks."

Mirra leans over to Olivia and announces that she has a ride home and leaves with her new guy friend.

"Do you need a ride home?" I ask.

"No, I drove."

I'm digging her cute figure under her mini dress and I find myself getting more excited the longer I stand next to her. I get a whiff of a light fragrance on her skin. I move in closer finding myself becoming intoxicated, and it's not the alcohol.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Waffles and fried chicken?"

I laughed, it's the most unexpected response I've ever gotten. "Sure."

"You laughed at me," she accuses me in a flirty tone.

"You surprised me. You caught me off guard. It's not often I'm surprised," I make excuses. She's refreshing.

"Well, there is a place down the road that has the best waffles."

"And chicken, I presume?"

She sends me a look that tells me I'm a smart ass, "Yes."

We finish our drinks and walk into the packed parking lot. I see her safely to her old Toyota, making sure it starts before I head to my car.

Minutes later we grab a table at her famous waffle and chicken place. We order. I don't mind. I need calories and she's in great shape. The lights are bright and I see she's even prettier than I had realized. Her flawless skin showed off her high cheek bones and she didn't overdo her makeup like most girls.

We both ate our early morning breakfast with coffee even though it was just past midnight. She drank hers black but I liked mine sweet. I felt at ease with her. I liked the fact she was independent and didn't appear to be a stage four clinger.

Olivia Chapter 2

I didn't want to go to the new club tonight. I thought it would be crowded and I was tired from a long week. But, Mirra can be persuasive. She was adapt at getting exactly what she wanted. Not that I'm holding that against her. I admire the way things work out for her. I feel like I'm working so much harder for the same things. I'm used to working hard, but a break here and there would be appreciated.

We met in college and got an apartment off campus together in our second year. She majored in business and had already landed a job at a company in Denver after graduation. I wasn't sure where I would end up but trusted that something would come through.

I drove us to the club because I rarely drink too much. If I do, it's sitting at home with Mirra watching a movie. I like dry red wine in winter. As the snow melts and the summer breeze rolls in I find a tequila sunrise or a raspberry vodka and lemonade make refreshing summertime drinks.

I didn't have a serious boyfriend in college. There were hook ups I hoped would turn into something but nothing lasted. Men weren't into commitment today.

Mirra had a serious boyfriend for a year throughout her five years at college. She was sweet and knew exactly what to say. She was the person I went to for advice on handling situations with diplomacy. The degree field I was in was dog eat dog. I wouldn't have made it past the first year of business classes if it wasn't for her. She's my best friend and I don't know what I would do without her.

The club has been the talk of our college town this month. Rumor had it there was a huge dance floor so we made the extra effort to hit it before graduating. We heard after midnight it turns into private parties where you have to buy expensive bottles of alcohol and you have one server for two tables so it's very hands on. Money is tight so I was going to have a few dances and a drink before calling it a night.

In my years at college I didn't come across any hockey players. If I did, I didn't know it. But I love professional hockey and I knew the names of many players. I followed our team online and knew a few names. Mirra and I went to a few games over the years because it was part of the college experience, and I loved hockey.