Picking Up the Pieces (15 page)

“Bull
shit
you can’t compete with that,” Amanda said, shocked. “The only person who’s never let me down is
myself
. It might not feel as good if I’m the one doing it, but I can beat Shane on time any day of the week. Three minutes tops, start to finish. Shane can’t do that to me on his
best
day.”

Trish looked like we had just told her Santa Claus actually existed.
“For real?”

Steph nodded and Danielle shrugged, confirming Amanda’s statement.

“Used to be the case for me too,” I added.
“And hopefully it will be later. This cream’s really kicking in. I need some alone time.” I crossed my legs and enjoyed the feeling of my jeans rubbing against me in just the right way.
Maybe tonight’s the night
, I silently prayed.

My not-so-subtle movement caught Amanda’s eye.
“Yeah, you
do
.”

“Do you have like a floor model I can buy?” I asked Dana.

She laughed at my desperation and then shook her head. “Unfortunately no. Orders usually take about ten days to come in.”

I threw my head back in utter frustration at the thought of another night completely turned on with no release.
But that didn’t stop me from spending over a hundred and seventy-five bucks on vibrators of different shapes and sizes.
Better late than never.

***

After the party, Amanda went straight to Shane’s to spend the night. I guess all of the sex talk had gotten her a little worked up. I had to admit it had done the same to me. But as turned on as I was, the thought of getting myself so close without finding release would be even worse than what I felt right now. And what I felt right now was pretty bad. Or good, depending on how you looked at it.
To try or not to try?
Shit, shit, shit.
I felt like I was making a life decision.
Jesus, Lily. You’re not getting married, you’re just masturbating.

             
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and got changed for bed. It was already past midnight, and I was tired. But as much as I tried to close my eyes and relax, I couldn’t stop the tightness in my core. The prospect of a much needed release
was just too tempting to pass up. I could do it if I put my mind to it. I was no quitter.

My hips flexed as I began to work my hand down my skin to the area that was still so sensitive from the cream I’d put on hours ago. I slid one hand beneath my underwear to feel the wetness that had probably been there for most of the night.

My mind raced with images of Adam’s hands claiming every inch of my body during our first night at the hotel together.
I felt my insides clench and my legs tense at the thought. I could feel myself get closer and closer to a long overdue orgasm as my fingers slid more rapidly over my clit.
Come on, come on. Don’t give up. Fuck, I need something else
. With my other hand, I let my fingers travel over the wet fabric, pushing gently on my opening as I imagined the full sensation I’d feel with Adam’s cock sliding inside me.

Then I pictured him standing above me, waiting for me to take him in my mouth.
Me waiting for him to climb on top of me or pull me against him as he lay beside me. I let my mind go, allowing it wander to thoughts of the dirty words he’d texted me while he had been at the beach last spring. But still that didn’t push me over the edge. And God, I needed to be pushed over, to feel my body pulse with the pleasure I’d been missing for what seemed like forever. And it didn’t matter how I got myself there.

With that realization, Adam’s dirty words faded, and someone else’s took their place.
The way I see it, you have two options.
I swore I could feel his hips push against mine.
Touch yourself while you think about my thick cock . . . over and over again while I make you come. Or . . . actually let me do it.
Then my lips were on his, his hard chest against my aching breasts.

And that was all I needed.
I felt my insides clench uncontrollably at the memory as my body writhed against my own hands. But it wasn’t until my orgasm had ceased entirely that I realized what had actually caused it.

Oh, shit.

Chapter 17: Max

When I’d agreed to meet Jack for dinner at a steakhouse in the city, I hadn’t anticipated being so anxious about it. But as I buttoned up my shirt and took a look in the mirror, the enormity of our meeting’s importance finally set in. Jack hadn’t told me the specifics of the job opportunity—mostly because I hadn’t given him the chance to until then—but I knew it had the potential to turn into something more permanent. And that knowledge was enough to keep me on edge.

I ran some gel through my hair and
played around with the strands until I created a perfectly messy look.
You’re meeting your agent, not a potential lay, you asshole.
But if I were honest with myself, I knew why the knots in my stomach had been growing steadily since I’d made reservations to meet up with Jack: I found the prospect of permanently living there incredibly appealing. I told myself it was because Philadelphia was where I’d grown up, the place I called home. My family was there. My friends.

But I knew what the real reason was.
Or rather
who
. Lily had let me back into her life, and I wanted to keep it that way. I was done fucking things up. Done
being
a fuck-up. The good things in life weren’t going to just find me while I sat at home in bed hungover with last night’s blowjob sound asleep next to me. If I wanted to make something of myself,
I’d
have to be the one to do it.

This realization was what
had finally led me to call Jack back and arrange a meeting with him. Well, that and the fact that Lily called me out on my lack of initiative. It didn’t take her long after my birthday dinner to ask me what the hell we were really doing with one another. She had been trying to help me get my shit together, but I was being a stubborn ass, as usual. Here she was putting effort into our friendship, and I had still been shittin’ around making no progress at all. When we’d first agreed to meet up a few months ago, it had been under the pretense that I’d start making some changes. And up until now, I’d made none. If I didn’t start getting my shit together soon, I had a strong feeling I’d lose her. And I couldn’t let that happen twice.

***

“Well, it’s about damn time,” Jack said when I took a seat across from him in the brown leather booth. “I feel like I’m seeing a fuckin’ ghost. What the hell have you been up to?”

“Uh . . . not a whole lot.
That’s kinda why I’m here, right? But we have all night to talk business. How’s Gretchen? And the kids?” Though I was anxious to know about the job, I felt guilty for not keeping in touch with Jack. He’d looked out for me more times than I could count. I’d known him for nearly ten years. He was more than just an agent. I could count on him to be a friend.

“Eh, you know . . . the wife’s good.
She’s still a nurse at CHOP. I keep telling her she should retire soon, but she loves it. Megan’s in her second year at Penn State. She’s probably at some party as we speak. I don’t even wanna think about it. And John graduates in May. He got a pretty good internship in D.C. this year. They’re gonna hire him on after graduation. Some political shit I know nothin’ about.”

“Nice.
Who knew your stupid ass could produce such intelligent offspring.”

“Well, the brains come from
Gretchen. That’s for damn sure,” he said with a laugh as he lifted his glass and took a swig of the dark liquid. “And probably their
looks
too, now that I think about it. As you can probably tell, I rarely miss a meal these days.” He patted himself on his stomach, which had gotten slightly rounder since the last time I’d seen him over a year ago. “Now let’s eat.”

Once the small talk—along with our steamed seafood appetizer—was out of the way, the conversation turned to the real reason for our meeting.
“So listen,” Jack said. “It’s pretty simple. You know the show
On Thin Ice
, right?” he asked without waiting for me to answer. “Well, they want some former players to do a couple of guest spots during the next few months. You know, interview a few players, give your opinion on a game here and there . . . that kinda crap. Nothin’ to it. At the end of the season, they’re gonna pick one guy to stay on permanently.”

“Nothin’ to it,” I repeated, though I wasn’t so sure.

“Yeah, just go in there and be you,” he said, gesturing at me with his free hand and taking a sip of his drink with the other. “Well, maybe not the
you
of late. That one’s been a fuckin’ moron recently. But you know that.” Pausing for a moment, he seemed to be deciding whether to continue or leave the topic alone. Unfortunately, he didn’t. “What happened anyway? You started gettin’ your shit together toward the end of last season when you were with that cute girlfriend of yours. You know, the one you took to your Atlantic City gig.”

“She was never my girlfriend.” My voice sounded as strained as I
felt
having to say that. “And it should come as no surprise that I managed to fuck
that
up too.”

Jack
let out a sigh and his voice softened. “Hmm, that’s a shame. She seemed good for ya.”

“Yeah, she was.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “
I
just wasn’t good for
her.
”

“Well, listen, whatever happened with you guys is in the past.
I’ve known you since you were practically a kid. You’re like a son to me. You
know
that. You gotta do this for
you
, Max. Whatever needs to happen for you to get this job, you better make it happen. None of your bullshit excuses. Ya understand?” Jack’s voice held the urgency I wish I’d seen in myself lately. “This is yours for the taking. You just gotta
take
it. You’re not gettin’ a fourth or fifth chance. This is it. You got it?”

“Yeah, I got it, Jack.”
I tried to sound upbeat, but even a brief conversation about Lily had affected me in a way that I knew Jack would pick up on.

“I know losin’ that girl did something to you, Max, but ya gotta move past it.
You sound like someone just shot your dog. Just go in there next week and be that charismatic son-of-a-bitch who always knows just what to say and how to say it. Sometimes you just gotta know how to get outta your own way and stop bein’ such a pussy.”

It seemed what was left of Jack’s filter had disappeared with some of the hairs on the top of his head. “Well, you know what they say, Jack. You are what you eat,” I laughed, holding out my arms confidently.

“See,” Jack pointed at me, “now that’s the kinda shit I’m talkin’ about.
That’s funny. People like funny. Just say some crap like that.” I could see Jack second-guessing his advice immediately. “Well, maybe not
exactly
like that. It’s a family show.” I noticed his eyes appraising me. “And for Christ’s sake, lighten up on the hair gel and put on a fuckin’ tie when you go in there. You’re interviewing for a job on a sports network, not auditioning for the cast of
The Jersey Shore
.”

***

By the time I’d entered the television station the following Tuesday night, I felt ready. The previous week had given me plenty of time to prepare. Despite the fact that I still followed hockey religiously, especially the Flyers, I had felt the need to brush up on my knowledge anyway. I’d spent countless hours online researching current players’ stats from across the league. And I’d watched every pre- and post-game show I could catch for the sole purpose of studying how the hosts conducted themselves
:
when did they look at the camera? Did they give a candid opinion, or was it more of a political comment aimed to please the masses? All of it was exhausting.

I arrived at 4:30 for the 7:30 game against the Capitals and immediately began prepping for the pre-game show.
I studied my notes in the dressing room while some chick brushed my hair back and sprayed it with something to hold it in place. Nothing could break my focus
.
Well, almost nothing. I’d have to be blind or gay to ignore this woman’s tits as she positioned herself in front of my face so she could dab some makeup on my cheeks.
I could get used to this shit.

             
The evening ran relatively smoothly. I answered direct questions when asked by the other hosts, and gave a truthful, yet tactful opinion. I even managed to make a few off the cuff remarks that elicited a laugh from a few of the guys. I felt that, overall, it had gone as well as to be expected, and I couldn't be happier.

“I think they liked ya, Max,” Jack said when he called later that night.
“You did good. Keep this up, and you got a shot.”

“Really? You think so?”
I could hear the excitement in my own voice at the thought. It was the first thing I’d done right in . . . well, in a really long fuckin’ time. And it made me pretty damn proud.

Jack and I discussed my next audition, and I knew when I hung up I had a stupid ass grin on my face.
I needed to share the good news with
someone
. I couldn’t just let the excitement I felt linger in my body overnight. I might combust.

So even though it was already late, I called my parents to tell them the news.
I mean, there really wasn’t a whole lot to tell other than the fact that I didn’t fuck something up for once, but my mom couldn’t have been prouder.

             
“Oh, Max, I knew this would happen. I’m so happy for you.” I could hear the pride in her voice when she spoke. “Let me go wake up your father.”

             
“No, Mom, if Dad’s asleep, I’ll just talk to him tomorrow.”

             
“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. When you tell him you’re going to be on a television show, he’ll be happy I woke him.”

             
“Mom, no, not permane—”

             
My voice was cut off by hers. “Bill, wake up! Max is on the phone. He’s gonna be the host of a hockey show.”

             
I heard the click of another phone pick up, and my dad’s voice bellowed across the line. “Hey, buddy, is that true? See? I told ya, doll,” he said to my mom, “we just needed to give him a little time.”

             
“Uh, I’m not on a hockey show
yet
. I mean, I’ll be on TV here and there, but it’s nothing permanent. I won’t know ‘til the end of the season if I got the job.”

             
“Oh, don’t be so pessimistic,” my mom replied. “You’ll get it. I just know it. Did you tell Lily? She’s gonna be so happy for you.”

***

I’d thought that sharing the news of my audition with my parents would assuage the excitement coursing through my veins. Like I would experience some sort of magical transference of energy from my body to theirs.

It didn’t work.

And with the mention of Lily’s name, my heart raced a little bit more and my already fidgety hands began to visibly tremble. But my mom was right: Lily would be ecstatic.

So why was I so nervous to tell her? She’d be happy for me, if for no other reason than I had
tried
to do something to better myself. I’d finally
tried
to take a few steps in the right direction instead of sitting around on my ass, waiting for life to come to me.

But the more I thought about how unconditionally supportive she’d been of me lately, the more I realized why I was so anxious.
Though
trying
might be good enough for Lily, it would never be good enough for
me
.

I didn’t come in second place. To anyone.
I wasn’t some fucking seven-year-old who’d gotten a trophy for participating. I was Max fucking Samson. And I was a fucking winner.

***

My restless night had afforded me time to decide whether or not I wanted to tell Lily about the audition. If I told her, I knew I’d have to get the job or risk being embarrassed that she’d know I’d lost it to someone else. And I couldn’t let that happen.

If I tell Lily about the job possibility
, I thought,
I won’t fuck this up.
I
can’t
fuck this up.
So I used that as my motivation
when I’d texted to ask her if she wanted to meet for lunch the following day. I said I had big news to share, and I’d wanted to share it in person.

At 10:45
the next morning, I arrived at a diner across from Swift Middle School. Seated facing the door, I waited, not so patiently, for Lily to arrive. Her lunch period was from 10:48 to 11:36. I briefly wondered who could eat lunch that fucking early on a daily basis, before I remembered that last year I had done exactly that.
Though I’d been free to come and go as I pleased at the school, I’d chosen to eat lunch fifth period so I could eat with Lily.

And for some reason that thought calmed me, comforted me even.
That ten months ago at nearly this very minute, I could have been doing this exact same thing: eating lunch across from Lily as we talked to each other about how our day had been so far.
Or at least we would be doing this exact thing if she ever friggin' got here?