4. Laur #2
“Ryder, nice to see you again,” Captain Smooth sails in trying to defuse the lust and tension in the air. “You’re just in time for some food.”
Libby’s face tinges bright pink, and it’s not from the sun.
She shakes off the daze, whispering an embarrassed greeting as the guys all re-introduce themselves to Ryder.
Most of them have met him before, but none of the girls have.
Coach keeps it very hush-hush anytime a hot prospect visits, even from the PR and marketing team.
Based on the single minute of interaction I just witnessed, I don’t blame him one bit.
“Hi Ryder, nice to meet you I’m—“
Ryder interrupts me, “Lauren Bellinger. The captain’s girlfriend, sister of the great Nick Bellinger and daughter of the legendary Nico Bellinger.” He extends a hand out for me to shake. “Nice to meet you too.”
My eyes go wide. He knows who I am. He must take it as a sign that I’m uncomfortable with him mentioning my deceased family.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” He scrambles for words. “They were both phenomenal players.”
“No need to apologize,” I mutter, understanding. “Thank you. You’re right, they are.”
“Word on the circuit is you aren’t too bad yourself, King,” Blaine cuts in. My eyes fly to him, gratitude softening their edges .
Blaine’s eyes drift over Ryder with a hostile glare and a small snarl on his face, as if he's off-put by him. Tread lightly, Blaine, you can’t afford to fuck up this year if you want any chance of earning the respect of Lucas and Coach.
Ryder smirks. “You’ve seen me play, Mitchell. Don’t act like it’s just a rumor.”
Libby giggles like a schoolgirl at Ryder’s reply. Finally Blaine found someone to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Chitchat breaks out as we sit down to eat our dinner. Lucas focuses his conversation solely on Ryder. Ever since we planned this beach trip, he’s mentioned too many times to count that he needs to make a good impression on Ryder this weekend. He didn’t like when I teased him earlier about it.
I argued that inviting a freshman to a small trip with the top upper-class hockey players on the team shows that enough. No sophomores were even invited. But what do I know about winning over men.
That remark earned me a few seductive whispers in my ear about how I was very talented at winning a certain male over.
“Thanks for dinner, Lucas!” Libby says as she helps to clear the dinner plates.
“What’s on the agenda for tonight?” Bren asks, squirming in her seat with a frenetic excitement, “Please tell me it includes going to the beach bar I think I saw earlier while exploring the beach.”
“Beach bar? I hope that means bikinis count as shirts,” Tyler mutters.
A very audible “Ew” and “Gross” come from the girls at the table. I swear Tyler has become more and more of a fuckboy lately. I would expect a crass comment like that to come out of Blaine’s mouth but not Tyler’s.
“It was just a joke!” Tyler starts to defend himself.
“Well if you talk like that, none of the girls will be interested in you enough for it to matter anyways,” I chirp, unable to hold my tongue.
“Damn. She’s feisty, Donato,” Ryder says with a laugh as he playfully shoves Lucas. “I’m down for a beach bar. ”
Part of me is very tempted to comment that he’s not even of age. He wouldn’t be able to come to the bar, but before I can say anything of the sort, Lucas starts to talk about a workout regime.
“I was planning to work out in about an hour. Some of you” —he scowls looking at Tyler and Blake— “don’t seem to care enough and have started drinking already.
” A sigh escapes him, and he runs his hands through his hair.
“But if anyone wants to join me, we can use the athletic club down the beach for weight training and run sprints in the sand for cardio.”
“Perfect. I didn’t get a full workout this morning before hitting the road,” Ryder declares. He seems genuinely chipper about working out.
All the guys, except Tyler and Blake, agree to meet out back by the pool in an hour before heading over to the athletic club.
Lucas hasn’t said anything to Tyler but by the incredibly subtle hint of frustration in his gaze and the slight curl of his knuckles, I know he’s pissed off.
Tyler isn’t setting a pristine example by getting tipsy and skipping workouts.
Even if this is a vacation and the team technically doesn’t have any mandatory scheduled workouts this week, it doesn’t look good.
Finalizing the plan, we decide that the guys working out will meet us out at the bar after they’ve finished.
I’m still curious how Ryder will get in, but that’s a problem for later.
Should Lucas even be allowing Ryder at bars when he can get in serious legal trouble?
Before I can bring it up, he kisses me on the cheek and tells me he is going upstairs for a bit, hinting at him needing his alone time.
All the guys seem to be doing their own thing before their workout. Tyler and Blake crack beers by the pool. Ryder comes back from putting his stuff in his room shirtless with his abs on full display, all freaking eight of them. This kid must work out twenty times a day.
“Can we sit on the beach with some drinks and watch them do their sprints? Then head to the beach bar after?” Libby whispers in awe, drool practically spilling out of her mouth .
Her wide eyes are far from innocent as she takes in Ryder’s body before he dives into the pool. A burst of laughter escapes me, quickly echoed by Bren’s. Libby found a new obsession.
“How could we have missed it!” Libby groans as the girls get ready for the beach bar. Blake easily talked us into playing Kings Cup with him and Tyler. We were too engrossed in the drinking game; we didn’t notice the rest of the guys working out on the beach.
“Don’t worry, Lib.” I smack my lips together putting a little bit of color on them. “I’m sure Lucas will have them working out every day we’re here.”
Libby’s face lights up, a small squeal of enthusiasm slips through her lips.
If Bren wasn’t moving for her big girl job, Libby might give her a run for her money in the woo-girl department.
My hands twist through my hair as I braid it to the side.
I throw on a cover up over my bikini to pair with jean shorts.
Sand squishes between my toes walking down the beach to the bar.
The warm air mixed with the sound of the waves crashing brings back memories of the beach with my family.
Closing my eyes, images of Nick and me building sandcastles fill my head.
Nick would instruct me on where the castle towers should go, always determined to build the biggest sandcastle on the beach.
My eyes sting, tears threatening to come.
Shrieks from Libby break my trance as Tyler chases her along the beach like a pair of teenagers, both wobbly on their feet from alcohol. So much for the low-key night before getting back to reviewing applications tomorrow .
Tiki torches line the various vibrantly colored outdoor seating areas. A glass garage door opens into the bar and houses a small indoor area, decorated with the same tiki theme.
Tyler walks in with Libby thrown over his shoulder.
Their laughter echoes throughout the massive open air venue, complete with multiple bars and even a DJ booth.
He paints a coy smile on his face, turning on his charm before he apologizes to the mid-forties female bartender, who’s furiously eyeing him and Libby.
His allure works on her, and her annoyed glare melts away.
Sitting down at a bright blue table, I take in the beautiful sunset view. With the bar right up on the beachfront, I’m envious of having this immaculate view every night.
“Free shot from the bartender.” Pride fills Tyler’s voice from securing a few free drinks. He hands me one, but I shake my head. Everyone else but Bren gulps down the shots like water.
“Bar?” Bren asks, her tone noticeably melancholy—well at least noticeable to me.
Realization washes over me that Bren’s been unusually quiet.
She flashes me a brittle smile. Something is off .
. . she isn’t her usual bubbly self. Grabbing her hand, we walk to the bar and look at the specialty drink menu.
“I’m feeling something fruity,” Bren declares and lets out a long sigh. “I bet they have incredible Mai Tais at this place.”
“What’s wrong Brennie Bean?” A crease furrows between my brows.
“I just miss Liam. The distance is a bigger strain than I imagined. I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t expect to feel so . . .” Bren pauses searching for the right word. “I’m not even sure how I feel. I just don’t feel whole. It sounds silly . . .”
“It doesn’t sound silly at all, Bren.” I take her hand in mine, reassuring her. “You and Liam have been together a long time, it’s understandable. I wish I could be more helpful.”
“Two Mai Tais please,” Bren orders, dropping my hand. “I’ll be okay. ”
“As much as I hate that you’re leaving, I’m sure that work will help a lot and be a great distraction. You are going to be so busy; the Red Wings are lucky to have you.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She takes a sharp inhale. “Work will help. I hope.”
The bartender hands Bren two drinks in colorful glasses with tropical umbrellas.
“You know I hate coconut. I’ll order something myself.”
Bren lets out another big exhale before taking a long sip. “Guess I’m getting drunk today.”
I order a strawberry daiquiri before we head back to the table, Bren carrying a drink in each hand.
“Damn, someone has the right idea,” Tyler exclaims as Bren sits down next to him. They must have gone to another bar to get drinks while we were gone.
“Cheers,” Bren grumbles, holding up a glass.
“To a great night,” Libby exclaims. Everyone holds up their drinks to toast each other.
“What’s the plan for this great night?” Blaine asks as the group of late arrivals strolls toward our table.
My eyes linger on Libby, and I swear I see a reflection of hunger in her eyes as she takes in Blaine with his button-down Hawaiian shirt fully open, showing off his well-defined abs and muscular torso.
I’ve seen that look on her face many times since I’ve known her but never in regard to Blaine freaking Mitchell . . .