9
“Alright then!” Parker raises his whiskey, his gaze serious as it sweeps the room. “To our impenetrable defense.” He nods in Byers” direction, then shifts the glass towards Toby, who sits with a broad grin, nodding. “To our goalies, the finest any team could wish for.” The glass moves on, raised in Toby”s direction, and I can”t help but smile as all eyes turn to me. “To our sharpshooters.” This praise extends to Caleb, Durand, and, as we all know, himself. “And to our new lucky charm. May you bring us many more goals.” I smile sheepishly as all attention remains on me. “To the damn strongest hockey team in the world!” Parker concludes his toast, prompting all the players to raise their drinks and chorus, “To the Devils!” They then bring the glasses to their lips, downing the high-proof liquid in one go. Their drinking prowess leaves me astonished. Whiskey brings tears to my eyes just from the scent, yet they consume it as if it were water. It”s no wonder Patrick couldn”t keep up. Thank goodness I indulge in alcohol occasionally and can handle my liquor. Riley says I can hold my own for my size. Still, I resolve to take it easy tonight. After all, the tiny piece of pizza I had hardly provides a solid foundation.
As Parker settles back beside me, I take a tentative sip of the amber liquid, aware of Caleb”s gaze on me.
“What”s up?” I ask, turning to face him.
“You should be careful with that stuff,” he says, his expression making me chuckle.
“Why? Are you worried about me?” He doesn”t answer, he just looks at me seriously. I”m about to wave it off, saying I have no intention of overdoing it, when Parker leans across me towards Caleb.
“Hey, buddy, someone wants to talk to you.” He offers him his phone. Caleb furrows his brow as he reads the caller”s name, his expression darkening.
“Damn. Excuse me, please,” he grumbles, takes the phone, stands up, and heads over to the security.
“Oh, oh, I”m just saying, ‘Thunder in Paradise’,” Parker says, laughing.
“Thunder in Paradise?” I repeat, trying to figure out what he means by that.
“Yep, that was Jessica, his girl. She”s pretty clingy and not a fan of him going out without her.”
Right, Caleb”s taken. With a handsome man like him, I can imagine his girlfriend isn”t thrilled when he goes to a club without her. I watch him go, descending the steps and heading for the exit. He wouldn”t leave, would he? A slight feeling of disappointment washes over me. But that”s silly, I”m not here because of him, I”m here to have fun. Durand, who shifts closer to me again, distracts me from my thoughts.
“I must say that dress suits you perfectly. You look dangerously good,” he murmurs in my ear, before giving me an appreciative once-over. I could return the compliment. In his white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and jeans, he looks really good. Actually, all the players have really dressed up today. I”m not used to seeing them like this.
“Hey, what”s going on here?” I hear Parker ask, momentarily distracted because he was flagging down the waitress. Now he”s leaning on his knee with one hand and throws Durand a frosty look over my head.
“You”re interrupting, that”s what”s going on here. I have something to celebrate with Emma, so buzz off.”
“Oh yeah? And what”s that?”
“His tenth goal of the season,” I reply.
“Pah, and he thinks that”s a reason to celebrate? Well, Emma, you”ll probably have to drink a lot tonight. Because this season, I”ve already scored fourteen goals.” Parker clenches a fist and proudly points his thumb at his chest. And then, as if they both want to claim me, they move closer to me. I feel trapped, I can feel the heat from their bodies.
“So, Emma, what would you like to drink?” the Canadian inquires.
“You dimwit, she already has something.” Parker gestures to the whiskey glass in my hand.
“Kid, you really don”t understand women, do you?” Durand signals the approaching waitress that he”d like to order. Then he turns to me. “What”ll it be, my beauty: champagne, wine, or perhaps a cocktail?”
“I”d actually prefer a glass of orange juice.” My answer makes Parker burst into laughter.
“Yes, Durand, you”re a real ladies” man,” he teases him. But the Canadian remains undeterred, orders the OJ for me, and another whiskey for himself.
“I see you”re tattooed,” he says, as soon as he”s placed the order. Durand”s finger casually traces the spot on my knee where the flower vine tattoo ends. The touch is harmless, yet shamelessly sensual. It stirs a subtle ache in my lower abdomen, which I ignore, keeping my composure.
“Yes,” I reply casually, “I”m into body art.”
“Alright, we have something in common then.” With a sly half-smile, he watches me with his best flirtatious look. For the span of a heartbeat, I”m hypnotized by his eyes, reminiscent of melted chocolate. No doubt, this guy knows how to use his looks. I bet he”s had dozens of girls falling for him with that face.
“How many tattoos do you have, if you don”t mind me asking?” Parker redirects my attention to him. I see that his gaze rests on my left thigh, where beneath the hem of my dress, feather tips of a dreamcatcher are visible. The tattoo is one of my larger ones, covering three quarters of my left buttock and most of my thigh.
“A few,” I reply evasively. He doesn”t need to know how many tattoos I have.
“I bet you”re pierced too, aren”t you?” The gleam in Durand”s eyes when he asks this is evident. He”s hoping for a ‘yes’. Well, I could tell him that I have two nipple piercings and three genital piercings - I removed the belly button ring because everyone and their cat has one - but I”ll spare my breath. His mental cinema is probably running full throttle already. No need to feed him more information.
“Here come our drinks,” I divert and smile at the waitress. As she provides us with orange juice and whiskey, I feel Durand getting restless beside me. From the corner of my eye, I see him lick his lips and gaze at my bare legs. I don”t need to be a genius to know what”s going on here. The Canadian is hot for me. While he might have found me appealing before, now he”s got me in his sights for sure. Caleb”s warning and request not to get involved with the players comes to mind. Maybe coming here wasn”t such a good idea after all. Nonsense, I just need to keep him at arm”s length, I decide.
“So, here”s to your ten goals,” I say, raising my orange juice and clinking it against Durand”s glass. Before he can respond, I turn to Parker. “And to your fourteen goals.” He grins, toasts with me, clearly thinking I”m engaging in conversation with him. But instead, I turn back to Toby. Luckily, he happens to be looking in my direction, and I manage to catch his gaze. “And to the best goalie!” I toast him and receive a joyful smile in return.
“Wait, wait!” I hear his voice muffled through the disco noise. “We need to toast properly.” The red-haired giant stands up, comes over to me, squeezing himself between Durand and me. “Make some room, kid, I need to toast with the lucky charm,” he grumbles at the Canadian. Judging by his expression, he”s seething with anger, but he doesn’t dare confront the Swiss. Annoyed, he turns away and joins Byers and the two girls sitting with him. “To the best goalie,” I echo Parker”s words from earlier and clink glasses with Toby. “Now, tell me, what brings a European to Portland?”
“The love for the sport, I”d say.” While Toby shares his life story, I exhale and sink back into the couch. As sweet as my two admirers are overall, their intrusive behavior is starting to get to me. Parker is still sitting next to me, but he doesn”t venture closer because every time he edges nearer, Toby gives him a warning look. I learn that our goalkeeper was born and raised in Switzerland, moved to London at 18, and played for a renowned hockey team there. Mr. Flake discovered him during one of his stays in England and recruited him directly for the Devils. With his size and deep voice, Toby can be intimidating to many. But once you get to know him, you realize he”s a really nice guy. At least I do. He”s like the big brother I never had. We talk for a while about his passion for hockey, and I let him convince me to try a Long Island Iced Tea. Eventually, we get onto the topic of women. To his regret, he”s only had one serious relationship in his life.
“And you really only had one girlfriend?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. It”s hard for me to believe. After all, he”s the most outspoken of them all.
“I”m not exactly proud of that,” he says, scratching his neck in embarrassment. “At twenty-nine, that”s pretty pathetic, isn”t it?” Suddenly, I feel a deep sympathy for him. There”s a pain on his face that hits me unexpectedly.
“May I ask why you haven”t been with more women?”
Toby shrugs his broad shoulders. “I don”t know, I find it hard to approach them.” He looks at me, realizing that I don”t quite understand what he”s trying to say. He sighs and explains, “You know, when I”m with the guys, it”s easy for me to make a stupid remark. But when I”m alone with a girl, then...”
I understand. “... You lack the safety of the group.”
The goalie twitches his wide shoulders, indicating I hit the nail on the head. When he approaches a woman alone, he”s vulnerable. And every rejection, every brush-off is directly aimed at him. Despite being a mountain of a man, he”s internally a wimp, I think to myself, but keep my thoughts to myself.
“But right now you”re also talking to a woman alone, to me.”
“That”s easy...” He waves it off, and before he finishes his sentence, I know what”s coming. It”s easy for him to talk to me because he doesn”t want anything from me. “... you”re not exactly my type”. The words are barely out of his lips when he realizes what he”s said, and his eyes widen in shock. “Oh, shit, that”s not what I meant!”
“It”s okay.” I smile reassuringly.
“It”s not because you”re not good-looking. You”re beautiful. But you probably already know that.” His lips form that same embarrassed line again. “I just happen to really go for blonde women. Preferably with blue eyes and... a lot of wood in front of the hut.”
“A lot of wood in front of the hut? I”m not familiar with that expression.” Must be something European.
“Well, a good amount of this,” he explains, raising both hands and indicating ample breasts.
“Oh, okay, got it.” I suppress a smile because it looks funny how he”s weighing non-existent breasts. “You know what, I”ll help you,” I say, placing a hand on his knee. Toby”s gaze shifts first to my hand and then to my face. A furrow forms between his brows.
“Are you serious?” he asks in a noticeably softer tone, leaning down to me. He sounds skeptical.
“One hundred percent. You”ll see, we”ll find a great woman for you.” The laughter that appears on his lips warms my heart.
“That”s great! Oh, but one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Please don”t tell the others that you”re helping me. They”d tease me about it forever.” I put my thumb and forefinger to my lips and mime zipping my mouth shut.
“Don”t worry, I”ll be as silent as a tomb.”
“Good. Okay, where do we start? What should I do?” He sits up straight and rubs his hands together.
“Well, I know your type. Blonde, blue-eyed, and... What was it, a lot of wood in front of the hut?” He nods, grinning. “Well, for starters, I don”t need to know anything else. Let”s go dance.”
“Dance?” His voice trembles.
“Yes, why not? It”ll do you good to loosen up a bit.” Toby”s gaze jumps to his teammates. I understand he”s embarrassed because all the others are up here watching him. Let”s see if we can change that. I stand up, place my glass on the side table next to the chair where Caleb was sitting earlier, and turn to the players. Standing tall, one hand on my slightly tilted hip, I look at the men. “Alright, guys, I feel like dancing. How about it, who”s joining me?” Parker, Durand, and Byers, whose date is appropriately miffed, rise immediately.
“Are you serious?!” I hear the petite brunette, here with the defender, screech. She crosses her arms over her chest, glaring up at him angrily. That”s it for him. He slumps back into his seat, grumbling to himself. Poor guy, he”s in for it tonight, I think. There”s no need for jealousy, though. I might find Byers likable, but I don”t think he”s targeting me. After all, he”s not hitting on me like the others. Shrugging in my thoughts, I turn my gaze to my new friend.
“Toby?” I say, extending a hand toward him.
“I”m not sure,” he hesitates, but Durand comes to my rescue.
“None of that, big guy, you”re coming.” He grabs the Swiss man”s arm and pulls him to his feet. I”m not sure if this is Durand”s revenge for pushing him away from me earlier, or if he”s trying to do me a favor. However, it works. Toby is actually persuaded to join us downstairs. This greatly lifts my already good mood, so as soon as I reach the mirrored surface, I raise my hands above my head and dance into the circle with small steps and swaying hips. When I turn around to face the others, I see them standing at the edge, watching me. At first, I don”t understand what”s going on with them. Then I notice the many shards of light casting onto my body from the dance floor. It looks incredibly beautiful, but it”s definitely not the reason for their staring. No, it”s my white dress, its fabric barely holding up against the light. Depending on how the specks of light hit me, my silhouette is visible. For a moment, I consider going back. But then I look at some of the women around me. Many of them have necklines where you can see down to their belly buttons. Others wear shorts with their buttocks hanging out, or dresses that barely cover their underwear. No, I definitely don”t need to hide here. Besides, I love my body. And I”d be lying if I said that this doesn”t turn me on in a certain way. So, I beckon the three of them to me with my index finger. Durand is the first to heed my call. Toby and Parker exchange an uncertain glance before they gather their courage and join us.
The DJ plays ‘Bailar’ by Deorro feat. Elvis Crespo, one of my favorite songs. Aside from Parker, who displays an outrageously good sense of rhythm, the other two stand like logs. I dance around them and encourage them to join in. At first, they hold back, only swaying their upper bodies slightly. But soon enough, I manage to sweep them along. Three songs later, the dance floor belongs to us. It”s a blast with the guys. Although Parker and Durand try a few times to dance with me in a suggestive manner, I casually evade them and dance with Toby. The Swiss guy is a riot. I”ve never seen a man dance like him. It”s hard to explain, but he reminds me of a duck. Arms bent and pressed against his chest, he sticks out his butt and sways it to the beat. It looks somehow cool and hilariously funny at the same time. Because the other two eventually get on my nerves with their attempts to dance provocatively, I grab the goalie and pull him onto the platform with me. I”m surprised that he follows me without objection. And, once we”re on the platform, he rocks the house with his duck dance. He grabs one of the pole-dance poles and puts on a show that makes the people below us cheer and attracts a crowd of spectators. Some of them are filming his performance. I let loose as well, winding myself around the second pole and enjoying the evening.
At the end of the second song, I suddenly see Toby stumble next to me. From one moment to the next, he turns back into a log and stares down into the crowd. I follow his gaze and spot a blonde girl smiling up at him. With glowing cheeks, he desperately tries to find his way back to the beat. In vain. To spare him the embarrassment, I stop dancing, step to his side, and applaud him. The crowd follows my lead, turning Toby”s cheeks tomato red. While the people cheer, we descend from the platform and return to Parker and Durand on the dance floor. I hold Toby back as he tries to escape and go back to the VIP area.
“Wait!” I call out to him over the music. Then I push him towards his friends, promise to be back in a moment, and search for the blonde girl. I find her with her friends at the bar across from the DJ. Without hesitation, I approach her and explain that Toby thinks she”s super cool but is too shy to talk to her. The girl”s name is Mandy, and she”s clearly smitten with the Swiss guy. We exchange a few more words and agree that I”ll stay with the guys on the dance floor while she sneaks up on him. Done deal. As soon as I”m back with the three players, the girls show up. While Mandy”s friends occupy Parker and Durand, Toby”s chosen one dances up to him. I grin when I see sparks flying between them. That was easier than I thought.
While everyone around me is having a good time, I savor the moment just for myself. I close my eyes, sway my body to the beat of the music. When I open them again, my heart skips a beat. Caleb stands at the edge of the dance floor, watching me. His hands are in his pockets, his gaze caresses my body. Now I feel like Toby earlier; I struggle to stay in rhythm. And then something happens that I never expected. He steps onto the dance floor and comes straight to me. A fiery thrill of excitement shoots through my chest. When Caleb stops right in front of me, I”m like a statue. He leans down to me - I can smell his spicy, rugged cologne.
“Would you give me this dance?” he asks, his words crackling in my ear. I feel his lips barely graze my earlobe, and I shiver. With a look that makes my legs go weak, Caleb straightens up again and extends his hand to me. Only now do I realize that the DJ has changed the music genre, playing a slow song. I place my fingers in his, sending a fiery impulse up my arm and making it hard for me to swallow. Caleb moves closer to me, guides my hands to the back of his neck. His proximity clouds my mind. I look up at him dazedly, wondering what”s suddenly gotten into me. Maybe someone spiked my drink. The effect he has on me isn’t normal! His hands, gently trailing down my sides and resting on my hips, erase any further thoughts. At this moment, I don”t care if someone spiked my drink or if I just had too much to drink. Damn it, I don”t even care that Caleb has a girlfriend. Here and now, I just want to savor this indescribably hot feeling that his closeness ignites in me. I want to be close to him, touch him, have him for ME. Even if it”s just for this one dance.