Same Time Next Year

by Tessa Bailey

The fact that Britta is four million miles out of my league hasn’t stopped me from threatening my teammates with certain death if they ever asked her out again, however.

My mother raised me to be an unholy terror on the ice but a gentleman as soon as I take off my skates. Like a fucking Canadian should be, she’d say.

What self-respecting man jerks off to a wedding?

“Can you please try and piece together what you’re feeling and communicate it to me?”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll even pretend we’re just friends while I’m nine deep, ringing your bell.”