8. Jordan
JORDAN
We’re staying in Utah tonight. The bus leaves early in the morning, and we have another game tomorrow in northern Arizona before we head back to Valley late Saturday night.
Liam snores lightly from his bed on the opposite side of the room. I pull on my headphones and turn on music, but sleep isn’t in the cards yet. I’m keyed up from the game. We finally pulled out a win. It wasn’t pretty, but we did it.
Scrolling through my phone, I respond to texts from my mom congratulating me on the game, then check email.
“No way,” I mutter under my breath. I click on the new message from Daisy. Something like excitement bubbles under the surface as I read her few words. I check the timestamp. Only ten minutes ago.
Fuck it. I’m bored and a long way from sleeping.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Congrats!
Thanks. I guess all we needed was a little bit of Johnson’s Law. What are you up to tonight?
I send it and wait.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Johnson’s Law?
I’m hanging out with some friends. I think you meant Pascal’s Law. How’d that work out?
From: [email protected]
Subject: Yes, JOHNSON’S Law
Pascal’s Law was a stretch, but I took your advice and chatted with the guys about us all stepping up and helping lead. It might have been a fluke, but it worked tonight.
What are you and your friends getting up to?
I try to picture her out at a party in her cute little dresses, hiding in the corner.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Yes, JOHNSON’S Law
Drinking and playing dress up. Are you on a bus or something?
Drinking? Interesting. I wouldn’t have thought that’s how she spends a Friday night. And not because she’s shy. Tons of quieter people come to parties and stand off to the side, but I’ve never seen Daisy at a party. And I’ve been to plenty of them thrown by all sorts of groups of people.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Dress up?
I’m going to need an explanation. What does that mean, dress up? Halloween is over. Or is this like cosplay? I’m intrigued. Tell me more.
We’re at the hotel in Utah. Back on the bus in the morning.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Dress up?
My roommate is a fashion design major. She makes a lot of dresses and skirts inspired by the Regency and Victorian eras. I suppose that could be considered cosplay, but we just do it for fun after a night out.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Dress up?
What in the hell are dresses inspired from the Regency and Victorian eras? Like big ass dresses with corsets and shit?
Her next email says nothing, but she attaches a picture of herself in a red dress with sleeves that hang off her shoulders. It dips low in the front, pushing up her small tits.
I never noticed how little she is, but the fabric wraps tight around her midsection and then flares out around her hips.
The skirt has a large slit that comes up high on her thigh, and attached to her feet are these strappy gold shoes that tangle around her legs. She looks… well, she looks fucking hot.
She’s not smiling, but her lips are coated a shiny pink, and her dark blonde hair falls around her shoulders. She’s a tiara away from looking like a sexy, vintage princess. It annoys me, but I can’t stop staring.
Heat rushes to my dick. Man, away games are the worst. Short of picking up a random at the hotel, there’s no one to hook up with after games. I could use a release right now.
I can’t say any of the things I’m thinking, but I’m hella fascinated to know more now. This is not the Daisy I’ve been sitting next to for the past few weeks. Sure, she always looks cute, but this… fuuuuck.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Dress up?
Your roommate made that? There’s more?
From: [email protected]
Subject: My friends are talented
Yep. My cousin, Violet. Do you like them?
She’s attached more pictures. Her friends, I presume. I scroll back up to the one of just her. Damn. Look, a sexy little dress alone doesn’t make a chick hot. Her friends are wearing similar things, and they all look great. Totally fuckable by just about any guy I know standards.
But that dress on Daisy. It’s just so… unexpected.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: My friends are talented
Yeah, that’s pretty cool. Now that you’re all dressed up, what’s the plan? Hitting after hours?
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: My friends are talented
No, we’re in for the night. This could go on for hours. Violet just opened another bottle of wine.
P.S. Diet Coke and Vodka do NOT mix well.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Drunk Daisy?
Are you drunk, sweet Daisy? I can’t tell.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Drunk Daisy?
I am not sweet, but I am drunk. I think. My insides are warm and tingly. Do you get your own rooms at the hotel, or are you bunked up with a bunch of other guys?
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Drunk Daisy?
Warm and tingly, huh? Yeah, I’d say you’re drunk, sweet Daisy.
Nah, just one roommate on away games most of the time. He’s sleeping.
I know she’s probably asking specifically about Liam. Actually, it’s probably why she emailed me at all. The thought puts a bitter taste in my mouth, and I glance over at my buddy sleeping.
Something like guilt pricks the back of my neck.
I’m not doing anything wrong. So we’re exchanging a few emails?
It’s a far cry from anything I should feel bad about.
I’m not stepping on his girl. He’s had plenty of time to make a move.
Though that might be because of what I said when he mentioned asking her out.
I scroll up to take one more look at her in the red dress and then turn my phone on silent for the night.
We get back to Valley Saturday night with another win in the books.
“Are you coming out?” I ask Liam as we step out of the bus. A few of the guys are going to the bar, and others are heading to one of our senior’s, Brad McCallum’s, apartment.
Liam’s smile is a little quicker tonight. He still struggled out on the ice, but we found ways to score without him. I hope it’s taken a little pressure off him, and he can get back to playing awesome hockey. I know what it means to him. He wants to play professionally but hasn’t been drafted yet.
“Yeah, I think I’ll head to the bar for a beer or two. You?”
“I told McCallum I’d stop by.”
“All right, man.” He offers his hand, and I take it and pull him in for a one-arm hug. “See you later. Nice job this weekend, Cap.”
McCallum’s apartment is already packed when I arrive. Dallas, a sophomore goalie, tosses me a beer, and I take a seat next to him at the dining room table currently covered in cards and cans.
A hand snakes down my shoulder and onto my chest. Cybil leans forward, and her shiny, brown hair falls into my face. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hey.” I lean back and wrap an arm around her waist, and she moves to sit on my lap.
“You missed the most epic of parties last night. I hate hockey season.” She sticks out her bottom lip.
Cybil and I have an easy friendship that often leads to sex. She’s a civil engineering major, too, and parties more than anyone else I know. She’s a cool chick—wild and always up for a good time.
“Then I guess we better make up for it tonight.” I knock Dallas on the shoulder and motion for him to move down, so Cybil has a chair.
For the next two hours, I play catch up, drinking my weight in beer. I’m always a lightweight after a game.
“Be right back,” I say after we finish a hand of poker. I get up from the table, saying hey to a few people on the way to the bathroom. I’ve barely got my pants unzipped when Cybil slips inside and shuts the door.
She giggles. “Oh, you really had to pee.”
“Yeah, at least turn around. Spare a guy a little dignity.”
She does but keeps giggling. “I heard a lot of people turned up at Sigma tonight.”
“The only place I’m going after this is my bed. Maybe McCallum’s bed.” I am beat.
“Come with me,” she whines. “A quick stop at Sigma, and then you can crash at my place.”
I move to the sink to wash my hands.
“Do you like my dress? It’s new.” She pushes in front of me, so she’s wedged between me and the vanity. It’s red and has a zipper down the front. She pulls said zipper down slowly until it's past her bra.
It’s a sexy dress, and Cybil has a banging body. Hooking up with her is always great, but a flash of a different red dress on a different girl stops me.
“Uhhh… another night. I think I’m done for.”
“Stupid hockey season,” she says, and shakes her head. “Text me if you change your mind.”
She leaves me alone in the bathroom. I lock the door and then pull up the last email from Daisy. She’s fucking hot, and I can’t stop being aware of it.
She didn’t email again to congratulate me on the victory tonight, and I don’t know why I keep expecting one to show up. I start to email her but stop myself. We’re not friends. She’s my lab partner, and she’s into Liam.
I wrap my fingers around my phone and bring it up to my forehead with a groan.
What the fuck am I doing?