2. Rather Do The Dancing Than Watch Topless Women Swing Boobie Tassels Around
2
RATHER DO THE DANCING THAN WATCH TOPLESS WOMEN SWING BOOBIE TASSELS AROUND
SETH
I’ve been watching Linc work his magic on the two Australian women all day, envying his ability to talk to anyone.
He’d been talking to Tara, the redhead, the most, but Kylie, the gorgeous, curvy brunette, seemed to be equally as chatty.
I feel bad that I haven’t been able to engage in conversation with them as much, but I’ve never been the best at talking to people I don’t know. Throw in my job, and I tend to just stick with those I know well.
“Seth, seriously, get out of your head, man.” Linc claps a hand down on my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie.
I’ve been hanging out in the hotel’s seating area, waiting for him to finish getting ready in our room. It was too small for the two of us to get ready at the same time. The French definitely didn’t have two hockey players in mind when they designed their hotel rooms.
“I’m fine. I was just waiting for you. Brendan told us all to be in the lobby in about ten minutes,” I say, getting to my feet and ignoring the twinge in my knee, an old injury that sometimes acts up when I sit for too long.
It’s like my body decided that thirty was the age to start falling apart.
“You are a shit liar, my friend. You gotta get over it.” Linc falls into step beside me while we head into the lobby area.
“Easier said than done. No one is blaming you for ruining the team’s chances at winning the Cup for the first time in twenty-five years.”
Game seven of the Stanley Cup finals and it’s on our home ice- there’s three minutes left on the clock and we’re tied with New Jersey, three all.
Can’t let this go into overtime. I want to win this game, for the team and for the fans. We deserve this!
Seeing an opening, I manage to steal the puck from their centre, an old college buddy, and break away, flying towards our net.
Their goalie tenses, readying himself. I can feel someone close behind me, but I find my last burst of energy, moving faster and lifting my stick, ready to take the shot.
Suddenly, I’m flat on my stomach, and I have no idea how I got here. The screams of the crowd echo through the arena, and everything is a blur.
Even though it’s been almost a month now, the memory of stumbling just when I tried to take the final shot, causing New Jersey to steal the puck and score the winning goal right before the buzzer went off, has been playing in a near-constant loop in my head.
“This is exactly why we are here. You’ve been punishing yourself for a month now. It wasn’t your fault. It’s not like you’re the first player taken out by choppy ice at the end of a game. There’ll be plenty of other chances. You are only thirty.”
Linc has been saying the same thing for weeks, and it’s not that I don’t get where he’s coming from, but it’s easy to say that when you don’t have all the sports commentators and fans criticising you every time you turn on the TV. I can’t even look at my official social media accounts and handed them over to one of the marketing girls back home to deal with until people find something else to complain about. It’s doubtful that it will happen until the new season starts in a few weeks, though.
“It’s not that simple, and you know it.”
“Right, we’re not talking about this anymore. We are going to spend the next three weeks talking about anything but hockey, got it? And, by some stroke of dumb luck, none of these people seem to have recognised either of us, so that’s even better. You can create a whole new you for a few weeks and put last season out of your mind.”
“Again, easier said than done. I’m still me, man. You know I’m shit at talking to people.”
“No, Seth Davidson is shit at talking to people. But Seth James… Well, he could be the charismatic, friendly guy that I’ve known for the better part of two decades.”
I’ve been using the second half of my hyphenated surname for my entire professional career. Basically, Linc is now telling me to drop the name that every hockey fan in North America knows and to become a version of myself who isn’t wrapped up in the game.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Just have a few drinks tonight, let your hair down and have some fun. Be my wingman for a change!”
I shake my head with a laugh. “I have never asked you to be my wingman.”
“You haven’t needed to. Women basically throw themselves at you.”
“Only because of our job,” I say, giving him a pointed look .
“I don’t know, man, Kylie looked pretty interested.” He nods towards where Tara and Kylie have just walked through the door, and I raise an eyebrow.
I have to admit how cute they both look. My gaze follows the more obviously outgoing of the two women, Kylie, while she moves through the small group to chat with a few of the other women on the tour. I also notice the looks she is getting from some of the guys. From the time I spent with her this afternoon, I can tell she has a bubbly personality and is almost like a female version of Linc. I assume that comparison is why I’m so drawn to her and kept finding myself watching her while we’d wandered around Paris.
“I don’t think so, Linc. I think she got bored at lunch. And she spent the rest of the afternoon talking to you and Tara.”
“Well, yeah, because you kept giving her one-word answers when she tried to talk to you. I can’t be the only person you talk to over the next few weeks. I plan on getting laid at least a few times, and I think it’s about time you do, too. You’ve essentially become a monk. So, as the person who spends almost all of his time with you, I am telling you to let loose while we’re on this trip. Talk to the pretty girls. Have a few drinks. Enjoy seeing the sights and just be a normal guy,” Linc says, the look on his face telling me he won’t hear any more excuses.
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“Good, and while we’re at it, I want you to actually speak up when you want to do something. Don’t just be along for the ride, for a change.”
Jesus, he’s challenging all my natural instincts right now.
Before I can respond, Tara sidles up to Linc and squeezes his arm. “Are you ready for a night of dancing girls, Lincoln?” she asks with a cheeky grin, and he rolls his eyes.
“I’ve never really been one to watch half-naked women dancing around with an audience,” he replies, and I laugh, quickly covering it with a cough when he glares at me .
I guess the strip clubs he frequented earlier in our careers don’t count. Then again, he’s bi, so I guess maybe he preferred watching the half-naked men instead.
“Not my idea of a good time, either. But it’s the Moulin Rouge. We can’t come to Paris and not at least check it out.”
“Well, we could always just not go inside and find something else to do…” Linc replies, looking over at me with a questioning look, and I shrug.
“What else would we do?” Kylie asks, coming to stand beside me.
I try not to make it obvious when I inhale, breathing in her perfume. It’s some sort of faint fruity scent, and it’s intoxicating.
“I mean, there are other things to do in Paris at night. Why don’t we just see the inside and then let Brendan know we’re going to go find a club or something? I’d rather do the dancing than watch topless women swing boobie tassels around anyway.”
I snort at Linc’s very accurate description of what I’d seen on the tour website when they advertised a visit to the Moulin Rouge.
“That sounds great. I’m in,” Tara says with a grin.
“Me too,” Kylie says.
The three of them turn to look at me, and I raise my hands up.
“Hey, I’m just along for the ride. If you guys are up for a night out, I’m in.”
Linc shakes his head when I use his words to describe myself, but grins all the same, and I can tell he’s proud of me for agreeing to a plan that will force me to mingle with the girls and not hide amongst a crowd. “I’ll go tell Brendan.”
Two hours later, Kylie grabs my hand and drags me out onto the dance floor of a club I will never remember the name of. I’ve had a few drinks, enough to feel a slight buzz without crossing over into drunk territory, and I feel more confident around her than I was earlier.
“You’re not much of a dancer, are you?” she asks, giggling while I shuffle my feet awkwardly.
“Not much, no,” I reply, narrowly avoiding being trampled on by Linc, who is bouncing around with Tara beside us.
Linc is not much of a dancer either, he just hides it better.
“It’s okay. I am.” She winds her arms around my neck, and I automatically grasp her hips. “Just follow my lead.”
I do my best, but in the end, she just sways around in front of me, moving gracefully, while I hold her close.
“Are you looking forward to tomorrow?” she asks, her mouth close to my ear so that I can hear her over the loud music.
“Yeah, it should be fun. Although, it’s not like I don’t see more than enough snow back home.”
Our next stop is a small village in Switzerland for two nights, with a trip in a gondola up the mountain to check out the snow.
“Tara can’t wait. She’s never seen snow before.”
“Wow, really?” I look down at her with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah. It’s quite common where we’re from, actually. It definitely doesn’t get that cold in Brisbane.”
“But you’ve seen snow, right?”
“Of course. I’m actually half-Canadian. It’s basically in my blood.”
I tense up a bit.
“You okay?” she asks, her eyebrows raised a little.
“Yeah, sorry.” I tighten my grip on her hips. “I didn’t realise you’d been to Canada.”
She studies me for a moment before answering. “Only a few times as a child. I’ve spent more time surfing than skiing over the years.”
Her not mentioning ice skating or hockey relieves me a little. And also has me wondering about my intense paranoia that she’s going to work out who I am.
Linc’s right. I need to get a grip and just enjoy spending time with people who know nothing about me, starting with the beautiful woman standing here weaving her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck.
I pull her in closer, and her eyes widen for a moment, then a smile plays across her lips and her chest presses against mine. I’ve finally found a rhythm, and she allows me to move us together in time with the music. Her lips are close to my ear again, and I suppress a shiver at the feel of her breath against my neck. Confidence surges through me and she gasps when I dip her backwards.
She laughs, her eyes twinkling. “You’re a fast learner.”
I grin back, feeling more at ease with her with every passing moment. “You have no idea.”