Perfect Obsession

Chapter 4 || What In The World?

𝐑 𝐎 𝐌 𝐀 𝐍' 𝐒    𝐏 𝐎 𝐕

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫...

Hockey is an intense sport.

Violent, technical, skillful...and that's just practice. Hours every day, aside from our off day, are spent in the gym conditioning and strengthening our bodies before we head out onto the ice. Dedicating our free time to the sport, outside of classes and academic commitments.

Our social lives and relationships suffer a lot. It's the main reason a lot of us choose no strings attached, considering it's extremely hard to find the time to put into a relationship.

My harsh breathing reaches my ears, overcoming the loud and piercing ringing that has been sitting there since I first got slammed into the boards. My senses are intensified as the sound of the metal blades scraping across the ice is ten times louder than it was at the start of practice. Coach's shouting is drowned out, and my eyes focus on the puck skating in front of my hockey stick as I maneuver around the other players.

Pushing forward on my skates, my body aches from the grueling practice that we've been having for at least an hour and a half now. I don't let that deter me, though. My hockey stick swings back as I take a slap shot and as soon as the shot on goal happens, my teammates slap me on the back.

My slower pace allows my breathing to calm as I leisurely take a few laps around the rink, along with the rest of the players. As our adrenaline comes down from its high, we all make our way off the ice.

"Nice work today fellas, keep up the game wins and the focused practices and we'll be heading to the frozen four in no time," Coach Henderson praises us as we head to the locker rooms. As soon as we enter, we're all peeling off our helmets, pads, and jerseys. The smell of the room would knock someone out if they came in here right now.

"Want to hit up the bar after this?" Miles questions as I get ready for a shower. "I think we deserve it after this practice."

"If we do, I'm not carrying your drunk ass home." I punch his shoulder before running my hand through my damp hair.

Miles chuckles. "Oh, of course. King here doesn't drink during the season."

"You should try it." Isaiah appears, collapsing down on the bench. "Maybe then your ass could keep up with us on the ice."

"I keep up just fine." Miles points to us, and Isaiah and I look at each other before bursting out laughing. "Oh, fuck off. I like to enjoy myself with the finer things in life."

I scoff and raise my eyebrow. "The finer things being cheap booze and puck bunnies."

"Nothing wrong with a good puck bunny, you know that, Rome." Miles smirks and I roll my eyes. While I do, I'm not an idiot. I'm smart enough to not drink in the season and to not go burying my dick in some girl when I have early morning practices or game days. That's Miles' job.

"Get your ass in the shower and let's head off." I chuckle, shaking my head before jumping into the showers in the locker room.

After an intense practice, everything hurts from being slammed into the sides repeatedly. Even though they aren't as rough in practice, between practice today and the game the other day, in which I didn't take an ice bath after, my muscles are killing me.

That was all thanks to wanting to see Hollywood endure the torture of her date a little longer. Which wasn't worth it since she shot the guy down and he scurried off to find some easy girl to sleep with. After showering and changing into some clean clothes, I swing my gym bag over my shoulder before heading out of the locker room and making my way down the hallway.