Page 16 of I Blame the Alcohol

Chuckles ring out throughout the group as I clap my hands for everyone’s attention, “Alright, boys. That’s enough for today. Next practice is optional, so if I don’t see you, I hope everyone has a good break.”

Murmurs of acknowledgment go around as my players heave themselves off the ground and head towards the changerooms.

I wait until the last player leaves the gym before turning off the gymnasium lights and following the departing mass. Taber’s fitness facilities are all interconnected, so the march to the men’s locker room takes less than thirty seconds before the steam of showers hit me.

As one of Alberta’s smaller universities, the varsity changerooms aren’t anything to brag about, they are the same size as the school’s public changerooms, which is to say, long, narrow, and borderline claustrophobic.

I guess one thing the varsity side has that the public doesn’t is actual shower stalls instead of communal. That being said, the four sad-looking stalls are only separated by sheet-thin curtains that are mostly see-through, so I’m not sure we are doing any better in terms of public nudity.

“I heard a rumour yesterday, Cap.” Rummaging around his locker, Wes digs out the shirt he’s looking for and turns to me with a grin that immediately raises my suspicions.

“Mm?” I flick a glance at the cut rookie, whose six-pack has slowly gotten more defined over the course of the season. My players might hate the cardio elements I incorporate into our training programs, but they certainly get the results.

“Trip mentioned something about Stella going on a date Friday?” Wes pauses for dramatic effect, “At the same time and location you two always work out at?”

I step into my jeans and yank them up over my waist. Hunter is in the corner, quietly listening to the conversation and wisely choosing to keep his mouth shut.

“You heard correctly.” The bite in my tone has a freshly showered, towel-clad Nico pausing mid-step to survey the scene. He takes one glance at my tight posture and glances back at his best friend.

“Stella?”

Wes smirks, tugging a shirt over his head, “O’Brien found herself a new gym buddy.”

Nico lets out a low whistle and I feel a muscle pop in my jaw.

“Does the fresh meat know what he’s in for?” The lean Latino jerks his head in my direction, “If Cap can’t keep up with the girl, I doubt some newbie is going to last long.”

Wes nods in agreement, “If Stella gets to lead the workout, the dude’s toast. I can’t picture her taking it easy for some guy.”

“Well, unless shereallylikes him. Then I could see it.” Nico unhelpfully throws in a wink with the comment and I flip him off.

“It’s just one date. I’m sure Stel won’t go in with guns blazing.” The words pass my lips and suddenly the beginning of an idea begins to take form.

A wonderful, truly awful idea.

Wes catches the Grinch-like smile taking over my features and does a double take.

“Uh oh. Nico, have you ever seen that look on Cap before?”

The freshman goalie drops his towel before moving closer to analyze my expression.

“You couldn’t have held on to the towel for another minute?” I uncomfortably shift from side to side, trying to look anywhere but my rookie’s package.

Which is right in front of me.

Wes lets out a laugh, “Don’t worry, Cap. You’ll get used to it.”

I shoot him a warning look before Nico finally nods, “He looks like a man with a plan. And you’re welcome.”

My eyes twitch from the effort of not looking down.

“You’re welcome?”

Nico gives me a modest shrug before turning and grabbing his briefs from the bench. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

I’ll take a lunar eclipse over the front view any day.

“For showing you what evolution has done for mankind.”

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