12. Laur
Chapter twelve
Laur
“What the actual hell are you thinking, Tyler?” My outrage yell mixes with the forceful slam of the sliding door behind me, causing Tyler to flinch.
After Tyler brought an ice for Ryder’s face, Bren, Libby, and I quickly coerced him back inside to lecture our dear friend.
“You’ve been on a different level lately,” Bren furrows her brows, “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” Tyler huffs out, folding his arms defensively across his chest.
“That’s a bold lie.” Libby’s voice is colder than the glare she sends Tyler from across the room. It’s cold enough to turn water into ice.
Tyler’s previously defensive arms drop to his side, each fist clenched in aggravation. “Mitchell’s been a pain in the ass all day,” Tyler retorts harshly. “He was asking for it.”
“Are we witnessing the same Blaine Mitchell?” Bren questions him as if she’s read my mind. Blaine Mitchell has been a saint since the end of last season.
“He’s different around the guys.” Tyler’s voice is a pitch lower than before. His eyes dart around the room, avoiding eye contact.
“Bullshit, Tyler,” Libby calls him out.
“Protecting your not-so-secret lover?” Tyler snarls at Libby, a fire back in his eyes.
My jaw drops at the abrasiveness of Tyler’s comment, while Libby’s clenches tightly .
Despite the sorrow starting to fill her eyes, she throws each word at Tyler as if it’s a dagger aimed for the heart.
“Next time don’t expect Blaine to be so understanding, or Lucas for that matter.
” She turns to storm up the stairs only stopping to spit out, “I would have been happy to see Blaine lay you flat on your ass.”
“Wow.” Bren’s tone goes into mama bear mode. “That was a douche move, Tyler. Since when do you treat your friends that way?”
Furiously following Libby, the patio door slams behind Bren.
The walls seemed to cringe at the silence that settles between Tyler and me. His big brown eyes meet mine, pleading for compassion. Even the stillness seems to be begging me to comfort him and fill the quiet void.
“If you are looking for sympathy, you won’t get it from me.” My voice remains melancholy, despite my irritation and disappointment with him.
“I . . .” Tyler starts, but I instantly cut him off.
“Honestly, Ty, I don’t want to hear your excuse.” I stare fiercely into his soul, hoping to find some truth behind what’s gotten into him, but self-pity seems to be the only thing present in his wide-eyed gaze.
“If you don’t stop whatever that is, you’re going to make this season,” I pause, trying to rein in all the profanities I want to yell at him, “difficult. And not just for yourself. For everyone.”
Tyler remains silent, not even acknowledging or agreeing. Throwing my hands up in defeat, I dash inside and upstairs to my room. I release a loud exhausted sigh as I sit on the bed, head in my hands.
Did Nick ever have to deal with this between his players? Did he intervene like Lucas? Nick was loyal and level-headed. I’m sure he stepped in when he needed to.
Laying back on the bed, my heavy eyelids close and I start to drift off. My mind and body both need a break. I thought men were supposed to be low drama, but it seems like I will have to constantly remind myself I’m dealing with a bunch of boys. Boys with massive egos.
A gentle nudge on my arm and a soft delicate kiss on my temple stirs me awake. The most beautiful golden eyes meet my sleepy graze, but no amount of grogginess could stop me from grinning wide at the sight of Lucas when I first wake up.
“Hi, sleeping beauty.” Lucas beams, brushing the hair out of my face.
Stretching up, I put my arms around his neck and pull him down so he’s laying down next to me. A big, unexpected yawn works its way free.
Laughing, Lucas says, “None of that. I’ll stick my finger in your mouth next time!”
Playfully, I let out a dramatic gasp, “You wouldn’t dare, Lucas Donato.”
“Oh, I would dare.” He smirks, bringing his face to meet mine. “Didn’t you learn I don’t mind being dared or did you already forget our skinny-dipping escapades.”
“Maybe I need you to remind me,” I coo against his lips.
“Damn it, I knew I should have woken you up thirty minutes ago,” he groans, kissing me frantically before springing up off the bed. “But you have ten minutes before we leave for the island themed bar.”
My lip pouts in protest, wanting to stay put in bed with Lucas beside me.
“You’re the one who said we need to let loose and convinced me to go on this trip!” He swats at my behind playfully and mutters, “Trust me, I miss being walking distance from a rink.”
“Fine,” I groan, “what am I getting ready for.”
“The last night at the beach bar,” Lucas responds. “Can’t you tell by my attire?” He gestures to his navy short sleeve button down hanging slightly open to show off his delectable muscles paired with his khaki swim trunks .
“Oh yes.” I roll my eyes mockingly, “our beach bar attire is vastly different from than what you’ve been wearing this entire trip.”
Slowly, I rise out of bed, letting out another yawn. Before I know what’s happening, a finger is shoved into my mouth. I let out a cry of surprise.
“Told you I would do it,” Lucas mumbles, a boyish grin plastered across his stubbled face.
Taking a step toward him, I narrow my eyes and threaten, “Next time, I’ll bite.”
Lucas raises his eyebrows at me, and whispers, “Promise?”
“Get out of here,” I squeal, tempted to grab a pillow off the bed and chuck it at him. “It’s already been at least two minutes, and you will make me take much longer.”
Before he can object, I teasingly shove him towards the door.
Reggae music dances through the salty air, complementing the sound of the waves and competing with the noisy bar, almost packed wall to wall unlike last time.
“THERE!” Blake points across the patio to a group of people gathering their things to leave.
“Move, men!” Tyler commands, seemingly in a lighter mood than when I saw him a few hours ago. Hopefully, his newfound positive attitude stays the entire night.
“Go, go, go!” Blake darts and weaves through tables and people, almost knocking over a waitress, to claim the table for our group. He gives the rest of our group, who slowly make our way over to ensure we don’t knock down any staff members, a double thumbs up before shouting, “OVER HERE! ”
The goofiness makes me chuckle, and I mutter to Bren, “Did he have a few drinks before this?”
“Oh absolutely,” Bren confirms. “Pretty sure everyone but you did.”
“Nope, I did not,” Tyler chimes in, overhearing us.
“Probably for the best,” Bren mumbles, patting him on the shoulder before darting away to the bar before Tyler can dish out a comeback.
“Laur, about earlier,” Tyler starts to apologize, his hands sheepishly finding his pockets.
“Let’s just enjoy the last night,” I quietly reply. My pulse speeds up with the anxiety of having to talk about Tyler’s antics. Again. Avoiding him, I quickly turn away to sit down next to Lucas.
Releasing a loud sign, Tyler turns to head to the bar. I meant what I said. I really want to just enjoy the last night we have on the beach. Once we get back to campus, reality will hit. My responsibilities linger in the back of my mind, reminding me they’re there like an unread text notification.
Something cold taps my shoulder, shaking me out of my trance.
“Thanks, Bren,” I say as she hands me the crisp, cold light beer.
“Cheers to a good last night.” She grins, clinking her beer bottle against mine.
“Looks like someone is already having a good night,” Lucas mutters.
Before I can ask Lucas what he’s talking about, my ears ring with the most obnoxious attempt at flirtatious giggles I have ever heard in my life.
My eyes widen at the sight of not one but two girls clinging to Ryder—girls is probably not an accurate way to describe them.
They are significantly older than the eighteen year old kid.
“Guess the rumors about Ryder aren’t just rumors,” Blake mutters.
“That guy’s got some mad game,” Keith responds. “Those ladies are at least ten years older than him.”
“Oh please.” Blaine rolls his eyes. “He’s got nothing. The boy’s an amateur.”
Libby stifles a laugh, almost spitting out her umbrella topped mix drink .
“What, you think that’s funny?” Blaine’s voice carries a teasing tone despite his brows furrowing.
“Yeah, I do,” Libby retorts casually.
In one smooth swift motion, Blaine swipes Libby’s drink from her.
“Hey! Give me back my drink!” Libby squeals playfully.
With a sly smile, Blaine takes a sip of her drink, “Tell me why you think it’s funny, then I will.”
“What are you five?” Libby snorts.
“No, but Ryder is,” Blaine mumbles, getting a chuckle out of a few of the guys.
“Well, the five-year-old has more game than you,” Libby bites back, everyone now laughing at our table. Well, everyone except Blaine.
Blaine raises an eyebrow before loudly slurping down the rest of the drink he swiped from Libby.
“Still got you, didn’t I?” He winks playfully. “I’ll go get you another drink.”
Stunned into silence, no one at our table says anything for more than a beat.
“I’m not going to lie,” Keith whispers next to me. “That was some pretty damn impressive game Mitchell just dished out.”
Bren turns her head in every direction, catching my attention.
“Has anyone seen, Tyler?” Bren asks, now standing up from her seat to look around the beach bar.
“He went home,” Ryder proclaims as he walks up with his new friends.
“What are you talking about?” I question; my mind begins to race with anxious thoughts. Why did he leave? Did he really go home?
“Yeah,” Ryder replies, holding one of the woman’s hands, while the other drapes herself all over him, vying for his attention. “After his first beer, he tapped my shoulder while I was talking to Jillian and Jackie. Told me he was over it and headed out.”
“That’s . . .” Bren pauses, her face scrunched in confusion and concern .
“Not like him,” I finish.
“No big deal, he probably just needed to blow off some steam,” Blake casually explains, like a typical guy not thinking anything is a big deal.
Libby thumbs strike faster than lightning as she quickly taps out a text on her phone, likely to check on Tyler.
Keith pulls his phone out too. “I’ll shoot him a text. Anyone want anything from the bar?”
A few “No thanks” and head shakes are the only responses Keith gets.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Lucas tries to comfort us with his easy words and pulls me close to his side.
“He just texted me back,” Libby sighs with relief. “He said he’s back at the house, and he was tired.”
“Why does everyone look like something bad just happened,” Blaine asks, coming back to the table. “My joke wasn’t that terrible.” He hands Libby a fresh drink that’s twice the size of her previous one.
“Tyler left without telling anyone,” Bren complains.
“Technically he told Ryder,” Keith corrects Bren, earning him a fierce eyeroll from her.
“So? He’s a big kid. He can take care of himself,” Blaine states nonchalantly, taking a sip from his beer.
“He’s got someone taking care of him,” Ryder chimes in, back from the bar insanely fast. And surprisingly solo. It seemed to take Blaine at least three times as long to get a drink.
“Yeah, he’s with a lady friend in our pool.” Ryder waggles his eyebrows. “Told you he was fine.”
“That’s a very different text back than I got . . .” Libby utters softly.
“Enough about Tyler,” Blaine blurts out. “They have cornhole. Who wants to go play?”
“Who calls it cornhole?” Bren jokes with him as Ryder shouts, “Yes, sirrrrr!” dragging the “r” at the end out longer than necessary.
“I’m from the south,” Blaine shrugs .
“Dude, you’re from Florida,” Blake proclaims, standing up to join them.
“Which is in the south, bro, where we play cornhole.” Blaine shakes his head at Blake’s clueless comment.
“Fine,” Libby groans. “If you stop saying cornhole, I’ll grace you with my bag skills.”
“Deal,” Blaine agrees as a grin quickly stretches from ear to ear. Maybe it’s just the alcohol he drank, but he seems very smitten over Libby tonight.
“Let’s all go,” Bren suggests, eyeing me.
Lucas’ eyes meet mine. “Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute,” Lucas answers for me, reading my mind.
“I’m just worried about Tyler,” I start as soon as Lucas and I are alone.
“Blaine’s right, he’s an adult,” Lucas states. “He’s the only one other than me that didn’t drink before we came out. He’s probably just needing some alone time.”
Twirling the ends of my hair, I let out a weary sigh.
“I know, you’re probably right . . . but,”
“No, we are having fun tonight. No more worrying,” Lucas kisses my forehead, “Unless it’s about how I’m about to kick your ass at cornhole.”
“You don’t want to be on my team?!” I shriek back at him, excited to get my mind off Tyler’s Irish Goodbye.
Lucas stands up offering me his hand. “No ma’am, you know I love a bet.”
Swatting his hand playfully away, I tease him, “Be ready to lose.” I quickly dart away from the table calling back to him “Don’t worry, babe, I accept Venmo.”
“We are going to miss our flight if you guys don’t hurry up!” Bren’s shout fills the house. To no surprise, the guys rush at the last minute packing their things this morning. None of them packed last night except Lucas. How typical.
When we got back home last night, Tyler and his mystery girl were nowhere to be found.
With the chaos of trying to get everyone out the door this morning, I didn’t get a chance to try to talk to Tyler alone this morning.
The sound of his animated voice giddily gossiping about this year’s upcoming NHL draft with Keith can be heard from my seat two rows in front of him.
At least he seems to be back to his usual self.
My stomach turns the entire flight home even though there wasn’t any turbulence. Anxiety weighs on me knowing Bren’s departure date looms and I’m going to be running the show on my own.
On the plus side, my Venmo balance was a little higher than the night before. I’m the bags reigning champion—take that, Lucas Donato!