Twenty-Nine
Stacy
“This is so fucked up,” Drew huffs as our group meanders through the cold October evening towards the Halloween party.
Miles peers over at him, white, long-sleeved collared Fred Jones shirt and orange ascot ablaze. “What do you mean, dude? You’re a great Scooby!”
“Why did I get stuck as the dog?” he complains.
I stifle laughter as Mae points out, “At least you’re warm.” She grumbles something to herself about being freezing, crossing her arms over her purple, long-sleeved mini dress.
She really does show a striking resemblance to Daphne, I’ll give Miles that much.
“We’re all making sacrifices,” I reason, gesturing to my bulky, orange turtleneck and red pleated skirt. “I don’t look anything like Velma Dinkley.”
“And I look like a dog ?” Drew cries before falling back into the same argument with Miles that they’ve been having since we left the apartment complex.
“You don’t look anything like her but you look way better than her,” Reece mumbles into my ear, resting his hand on my lower back.
My cheeks flame in response.
“I would sure hope you’re not attracted to a cartoon character,” I mutter back, trying my hardest to keep the conversation light lest I burst into flames on the sidewalk.
Reece chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes my insides feel funny. “Recently, there’s only been one person that I’m attracted to.” He lets his hand slide down the curve of my hips, slyly reaching under my skirt to give my ass a squeeze while the rest of the group trots obliviously ahead of us.
“Reece,” I scold, the heat in my face spreading down my neck.
“Later then,” is all he says, giving my ass a playful smack before returning his hand to the small of my back.
I neither confirm nor deny whether “later” will happen, but I have to bite back a smile as we make our way towards the hockey party house for their annual Halloween party.
My stomach has been in a whirl ever since Sunday.
Ever since my… rendezvous with Reece in the practice gym weightroom.
I don’t know what came over me, what came over him , but at this point, the attraction between the two of us is too strong to deny.
I couldn’t say no to Reece last weekend and, if my body has any say, I won’t be rejecting him if he makes a move tonight, either.
This is the first time in my life that my smile doesn’t feel fake.
When I’m around Reece, it hurts my cheeks, the laughter hurts my stomach, and the pain is the best thing I’ve ever felt.
I’ve never looked forward to cheer practice as much as I do now and to make matters better, Reece and I stunted like crazy this week.
Almost like he was right about our bodies being connected, the little prick.
We’ve fallen into such a routine. Hanging with our group of friends, Sip Society for coffee, one-on-one practices and weight lifting, Reece coming over for whatever dinner I’m making, FaceTime dates with my family, Reece bringing me pho in between classes because he knows I don’t get a long lunch break on Tuesday or Thursday.
It all feels strikingly similar to what a real relationship should feel like.
We haven’t talked about anything, but that’s alright for now. I’m more confused than ever at this point but I’m also… happy. And maybe it’s okay for me to just be happy for once without asking a million questions.
“If I get arrested for punching Miles in the face tonight, will you bail me out?” Mae pulls me out of my train of thought, falling back in step with me and looping her arm through mine as we walk into the two-story off-campus party house lived in by the Wing Haven hockey captain and two other senior hockey players.
I just snort at my best friend as we walk into a shroud of fog, fake spiderwebs, and orange strobe lights, the thump of the music drowning out all of my thoughts.
We squeeze through the congested living room, in between the sweaty bodies of dancing college students as Miles leads us to the kitchen situated at the back of the house.
It’s quieter when we get away from the living room, the roar of conversation more noticeable now that music is a little muffled.
Miles greets Grant, the captain of the hockey team, as well as Will and Dominic, the two defensemen who rent the house with Grant.
I spy Landon in the corner of the kitchen, leaned up against the quartz countertops with a blonde I don’t recognize and a red solo cup in hand.
I don’t miss the way Mae shrinks into me at the sight of him and I peer over at her as the guys go get us some electric green punch from the smoking cauldron on the island.
“You and Landon off again?” I ask.
She doesn’t take her eyes off her ex-boyfriend as she speaks. “You could say that,” is all she gives me.
I turn my gaze towards the tall bastard, his usual shoulder-length brown hair tied up in a bun underneath his cowboy hat.
My eyes narrow as I take him in, wishing looks really could kill as the blonde girl with cat ears and a tail trails her finger up and down his flannel-clad bicep.
It’s hard to miss the way he’s peering towards Mae with damn near no subtlety; it’s also hard to miss the glare that he and Miles shoot each other as Miles fills up a red solo cup for Mae.
“You sure there’s nothing you want to tell me about you two?” I ask my best friend, waggling my finger between her and Miles/Fred.
Mae chuckles but it sounds forced. “The only thing there is to tell is that Miles Gray is the most infuriating, annoying, pompous asshole I’ve ever met and the only thing I want to do with him is fist fight. MMA style. Until one of us is hospitalized.”
“Yeah, I said the same thing about Reece.”
Mae whips her head in my direction, blue eyes wide. “Wait, did something else happen with you two?”
I gape, seconds away from telling my friend about my confusing, complicated feelings when the boys return, alcohol in hand to distribute.
“You girls talking about me again?” Miles asks with a shit-eating grin before taking a drink of his punch .
Mae snatches her cup from him. “Yeah, actually, we were discussing your funeral plans.”
“Nice kitty.” He smirks.
Mae huffs, taking a swig of her drink before rolling her eyes and turning back towards the living room.
Reece snickers at his friend. “Dude, what did you do to that girl?”
“You don’t want to know,” Miles replies, his Cheshire smile widening.
“Miles, if you fuck with my best friend, I will have Reece kick your ass,” I threaten.
Miles glances at me. “What makes you think Reece would listen to you?”
I lean into Reece’s side almost instinctively, resting my head on his shoulder. “Call it women’s intuition.”
Reece chortles next to me, winding an arm around my shoulders to squeeze and I know right away that he’s agreeing with my assessment.
I know Reece and I suddenly know that he would probably do pretty much anything for me.
He brings me pho when I don’t have time for lunch, he sits with me during thunderstorms, he comforts me while I’m sick, and I damn well think he’d kick his best friend’s ass for me if the situation arose.
There’s a lot to say for a man like him.
“Guys, drinking games in the media room, let’s go,” Mae says, popping her head into the kitchen for a second before disappearing back down the hallway.
The media room of the hockey house is situated down in the basement, a little bit of a haven for those who know it exists and know some of the hockey guys well enough to have access to it.
It’s always less rowdy than the upstairs dance party, quieter and more intimate with fifteen people or so as opposed to a hundred.
We trail downstairs after Mae, Will, Grant, and Dom into the cool, dim space.
There are plush couches and a couple recliners arranged in a U-shape, facing the giant projector on the far wall which is currently playing John Carpenter’s Halloween .
The walls are covered with old movie posters and neon beer signs, a bar cart in the corner full of liquor bottles and mixing tools.
The room is cozy, full of friendly faces and a cotton area rug covered in cards, shot glasses, and liquor bottles.
I recognize the majority of the people in the media room as Reece and I plop down on one of the recliners — mostly hockey boys, a couple football players including Devin, and some other girls from our squad.
Duly, I recognize a brunette girl in the corner that I remember as Chelsea and my stomach churns.
Reece must notice the way my body stiffens against him when Chelsea waves in our direction because he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.
The jealousy in my stomach slowly loosens at his reaction, something that should terrify me. Instead, it warms my insides.
“Alright,” the junior goalie I know as Cade says, plopping down in front of the deck of playing cards on the ground. “ Truth or Dare but we let the cards decide. Even number, truth. Odd number, dare. Face cards are wild. Skip a dare or get called out for lying, you take a shot. Cool?”
The group nods and I laugh at the chaotic mix of clowns, tigers, Power Rangers, superheroes, and Harry Potter lookalikes about to make a scene.
Grant picks a card off the top of the deck. “Two,” he says, turning to Miles. “Miles, where’s the weirdest place you’ve gotten laid?”
Miles smirks. “Your bed, dude.”
Grant groans, throwing an empty beer can at Miles as the group descends into laughter. Mae stays quiet next to Drew on the couch, her cheeks a touch pinker than usual.
“One day, we’re going to figure out what the hell is going on with them,” I whisper to Reece.
“Why do I feel like it has something to do with Grant Hughes’ bed?” he whispers back.
I snort into my green punch as a girl dressed as a retro fitness instructor chooses a card.
The game makes its way around the circle, full of ridiculous questions and dare requests. Minimal shots are taken during our first round since everyone’s being a pretty good sport and we truly hear it all.
What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you during sex?
Have you ever sent a sext to the wrong person?
Dom, show us your browser history.
Act out your weirdest fantasy without using your words. Props are highly encouraged.
If you could hook up with one of my friends, who would it be?
Who do you think is the hottest person in this room?
The first skip of the night comes when Miles dares Mae to give him a lap dance for the length of one singular Shakira song. Her choice of song, of course.
“I’d take a million tequila shots and die of alcohol poisoning before I’d ever do that,” she spits at Miles before throwing back the liquor, our small group cheering her on and commiserating with Miles over the brutal rejection .
The game makes it to the blonde girl I recognize as Hanna, sitting with Chelsea and one other Delta Sigma. She picks up a card, displaying the number three as she smirks. Hanna glances at Chelsea for a quick moment before she says, “Reece. I dare you to make out with Chelsea.”
My heart squeezes as Reece’s fingers curl at my waist. The room descends into silence as a thick tension rises, the only sound coming from the movie on the projector as Hanna and her other friend giggle.
I avert my eyes to the red rug before I can display too many emotions, something stinging the back of my nose at the thought of Reece kissing Chelsea.
It’s ridiculous. Reece isn’t my real boyfriend. Our moments of physical intimacy probably don’t mean anything to him, the same way his physical relationship with Chelsea never mattered.
“What do you say, Taylor?” Cade asks from the rug, holding up the bottle of Patron.
I hear Reece swallow behind me before he grits out a low, “No.”
Hanna scoffs as Will snorts out a laugh. “Haven’t you guys already hooked up, like, a million times? What does it matter, dude?” she demands.
Chelsea looks like she wants the floor to swallow her whole as she pulls on the skirt of her tiny French maid costume. Dammit , she looks hot.
“Okay, I dare you to take her home tonight, then,” Hanna continues.
“Han,” Chelsea scolds her friend, her face reddening.
“What? I’m trying to help you,” Hanna hisses as an awkward silence sits heavy among the crowd.
My gaze has to be burning a hole in the ground but I don’t care.
I can’t look up, I can’t meet the eyes of Mae or Reece or anyone else as my throat starts to thicken.
Suddenly, Tashia’s warning from the bar starts ringing in my head, knocking around like a wrecking ball.
I gulp down the rest of my drink to dull the emotions crowding my chest.
I hate that I’m letting her get into my head.
“You takin’ the shot, Reece?” Grant asks from the floor, leaning back against the loveseat and steepling his fingers at his chest.
Reece takes a deep breath before answering. “No,” he says calmly, moving my body to push off the recliner. “Actually, I’m done playing.”
Without another word, Reece takes my hand and hoists me out of the chair.
He leads me away from the stunned group, out of the media room and up the stairs.
My eyes take a minute to adjust to the dark hallway when we reach the main level, the music filling the small space as Reece guides me blindly down a corridor.
He takes a sharp left, opening a white door and ushering me inside.
The alcohol is making my head buzz as I duly note that he’s pushed me into a small powder bathroom.
It’s tiny, only a small vanity and a toilet with a skeleton sitting on the tank, and the room feels even smaller with Reece’s large body in it.
Physically, he takes up space, but it’s more than that.
Reece’s presence surrounds me, suffocates me, covers me like ivy whether we’re in our huge practice gym or this minuscule bathroom.
I wonder what we’re doing in here. I want to ask. But I don’t have any time for questions because Reece’s body is pressed against me, my back finding the door as his hungry lips catch mine.