Chapter 9
NINE
The more I drink and the darker the sky gets, the more relaxed I feel. We moved back outside now that it’s cooled off. I can feel the slight burn on my skin from earlier and the breeze makes goose bumps dot my arm.
Adam and Taryn are sharing a lounge chair next to me and Reagan. Dakota and Maverick are both in the pool. Maverick’s tossing a beach ball back and forth with the girl he’s been hanging out with all afternoon and Dakota’s full-on making out with some guy Reagan tells me is a basketball player.
Liam sits on the ground between us. He’s attached himself to my side.
I can’t tell if he’s hitting on me or if he’s another one of the guys Adam’s asked to keep an eye out for me.
His approach is much more subtle than Heath’s, and dammit if I don’t prefer Heath’s cocky, playfulness to Liam’s politeness.
I find him in the pool. He’s leaning against the side and the girl I all but pushed him into hanging out with is next to him. She’s facing him, her back to me, but I have a clear view of Heath.
He smiles and holds a beer in one hand. They’re not touching, at least that I can tell, but they’re standing close. He laughs and his stare moves past her to me. It isn’t the first time he’s caught me staring in the last hour.
I know he’s all wrong for me. Dakota and Reagan have filled me in on all the guys and what they said about Heath is exactly what I expected. He hooks up, he’s all for the fun, but he doesn’t date, and he’s never had a girlfriend that they’re aware of.
The reasons to not hook up with him are many, not the least of which is him being my brother’s roommate and teammate.
And if I’m totally honest, I’m not one hundred percent over Bryan.
I think it’s mostly turned into anger at the way he ended things and missing the idea of what I thought college would look like.
We were supposed to be doing all of this together, but if we had, I wouldn’t have met Dakota and Reagan and I already can’t imagine that.
“You’re staring,” Reagan says, nudging me with an elbow.
“I know. It’s pathetic. She’s beautiful. Do you know her?”
“No, not really. I’ve seen her around.”
“With Heath?”
She nods. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think it’s serious. I think it’s lack of options and similar goals.”
“Is the goal not going home alone?”
She laughs. “Yeah, pretty much. And Heath’s a hot commodity, especially now that he’s been drafted.”
“Drafted, like to the NHL?” It clicks before she answers. “I remember Adam saying something about one of his teammates being drafted, but I didn’t realize it was Heath.”
“Heath and Maverick both already signed with teams.” Standing, she slips into her shoes. “Come on, I see Rhett playing flip cup.”
I take one last look at Heath and our eyes catch again. I tear my gaze away first this time and stand. “Let’s do it.”
“College is awesome. A-W-E-S-O-M-E awesome.”
Reagan and Dakota’s laughter is a hazy sound as they help me into Adam’s bed.
“I put a glass of water on the nightstand and your phone on the desk. Do you want help getting changed or at least out of those shoes?” I think it’s Reagan who asks.
My eyes are shut, and their voices are surprisingly similar.
“No, it’s fine. This way I’ll be ready to go to classes in the morning. No getting ready. Voi, voile, I mean voila!”
“Tomorrow is Sunday, sweetie.”
“How did you get so drunk?” Dakota asks. I can tell it’s definitely her this time, the little snort laugh she does gives her away.
“I’m not drunk. Just tipsy and tired.”
“Now I see the family resemblance. You’re as stubborn as your brother. Last time Adam got drunk, he swore he was fine until he fell down the stairs on the way to the bar.”
I’m too tired to laugh, but the image in my head of my bossy and always in control brother tumbling down a flight of stairs is hilarious.
“Okay. Night, Ginny. Sleep tight.”
Their footsteps retreat and one of them flips the overhead light off before the door shuts.
“Wait,” I call, not loudly enough. I groan and sit up, prying open my eyelids.
A small strip of light underneath the door is the only thing saving me from total darkness.
I get up and look for my phone, but I can’t see anything.
I flip the light on and take a deep breath.
I still don’t see my phone, but now I need to pee.
I stumble out into the empty living room. Rhett came back at the same time as we did, but he must have gone to bed. I hurry into the bathroom and close the door, then fumble with the light switch.
Only nothing happens. Damn Adam and his inability to change a freaking light bulb.
It’s really dark in here and my pulse quickens.
I find the door handle, turn and yank, but nothing happens.
It’s a standard turn lock, but no matter which way I turn, it doesn’t seem to do anything and my breathing gets more erratic with each failed attempt.
Oh my god, this can’t be happening. I close my eyes to try to trick myself into believing it isn’t as dark as it is, but I’m already panicking too much to fool myself.
I bang on the door. “Little help in here.”
I wait for a few seconds before I try again, this time louder. Rhett’s room is all the way across the apartment, and I have no idea if anyone else is home. I didn’t see Heath when we left, and Mav was going to catch a ride with Adam and Taryn. “Help!”
I slide down onto the floor before my legs can give out and continue banging with both fists. I try counting to focus on something else. One. Two. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Three. Four. Someone will come home any second now.
My hands fall to my lap and I suck in deep breaths. All the fuzzy edges from the alcohol are gone and I’m entirely too sober and aware that I’m trapped in a very dark, small room.
Hot tears roll down my face. I yell as loud as I can through the crying. “Help!”
“Ginny?” Heath’s voice on the other side of the door makes me cry harder. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t get the door open.”
The handle rattles. “It’s locked.”
“I know. It’s too d-dark to see, but I can’t get it open either way I turn it. Could you get Adam?”
“Ginny, I’m going to kick the door open, but I need you to move back out of the way. Maybe step into the shower.”
“O-okay.” I crawl on my hands and knees and sit inside the tub, hugging my knees.
“Are you away from the door?”
“Y-yes.”
A second later the cheap wood door slams in and against the wall and the light from the living room pours in. Heath stands in the doorway frozen as he takes me in, then rushes toward me. “Are you all right?”
I nod even as I shiver and hug my knees tighter. He’s quiet and I’m all too aware of my ragged breaths filling the silence between us. I close my eyes and concentrate on taking slow and even breaths. One, two, three…
“Everything okay?” Rhett asks in that heavy Minnesota accent.
I’m so embarrassed. I wonder if it’s possible to never see any of Adam’s teammates ever again.
“Can you get her a glass of water?” Heath asks Rhett.
My eyes fly open as my space is invaded and Heath climbs into the tub in front of me. He doesn’t exactly fit, and his long legs are bent and flank me on either side. His hands raise to my shoulders and he strokes me gently. “Deep breaths in through your nose.”
Yep, epic proportions of embarrassment.
“Here ya go.” Rhett reappears with water in a big green plastic cup.
Heath takes it and thanks him, while I smile awkwardly.
“Uh, you guys good?” Rhett shifts uncomfortably. “Should I call Adam? I think he went with Maverick and Taryn on a taco run.”
Heath’s fingers continue to stroke my arms and back. “I’ve got her.”
That’s all the convincing Rhett needs to get the heck out of my bubble of crazy.
“I’m fine. Really. You can go now,” I say, chest still rising and falling too fast. “Go back to the girl in your bed.”
“You’re not fine. You’re having a panic attack. And there’s no one in my bed. I left right after you.” He hands me the cup of water. “Try to take a sip or two. Sometimes forcing your brain to do something else helps.”
I do as he instructs, and the cool liquid does seem to help a tiny bit. Enough that I can better appreciate the man in front of me. He’s shirtless, his ab muscles defined even as he sits. Blue basketball shorts hang on his hips, but his bare calves press against my back.
When I finally feel the sharp edges of my fear dissipate, I finish the water and let out a long, cleansing breath. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. His arms wrap around me again and he rubs my back softly.
“For getting myself locked in and for that.” I point toward the busted door. The trim hangs away from the wall where the lock pushed it away from the frame.
“That’s nothing. Don’t even worry about it. Are you feeling better?”
I nod. “I want to go to bed.”
“Okay.” He moves his legs and groans. “I think I might be stuck.”
Standing, I offer him my hand. He smiles goofily as he places his calloused palm in mine, and I attempt to help him up. Somehow, we manage to get him upright and he’s so close my breathing picks up all over again, but for a completely different reason.
He notices and his brows furrow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“This kind of thing happen before?” he asks and then adds, “When you’ve been drinking.”
I nod, refusing to meet his concerned blue eyes. “I just need some sleep.” And to wake up and pretend this never happened.
As gracefully as one can in this situation, I step out of the tub and glance at the burned-out light bulb over the vanity. “How many hockey players does it take to change a lightbulb?”
He follows me out of the bathroom. I walk to Adam’s open bedroom and face him. “Well, this was humiliating and awful. Pretend it never happened?”
His lips twist into a playful smile and he reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Night, Ginny.”
In Adam’s room I flip the overhead light on and shut the door. And then I climb into bed and somehow sleep through the night.
When I wake up, Adam is on the couch sleeping with Taryn curled up next to him. The rest of the house is quiet. I tiptoe to the bathroom and reach for the light before I remember. Except this time, the bathroom floods with light and the doorframe is fixed.
It turns out it only takes one hockey player to change a light bulb, and I have a very good idea which one it was.