Page 22 of I Blame the Alcohol

Giving me the full force of his glare, Cody grabs the hat out of my hands. I squeal with excitement and quickly whip out my phone. There is no way this moment is going undocumented.

“Say, howdy!” Cody flips me the bird just as the flash goes off. I cackle with glee and stash my phone before he can even think about deleting the evidence.

Carefully adjusting the wide-brimmed hat to minimize the damage to his fauxhawk, Cody heaves a sigh, his paisley button down stretching tight against his broad shoulders.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.”

I smirk, flipping the end of my long braid over my shoulder, “Admit it, Ellsworth. You’ve always wanted to dress up as a cowboy.”

“I’m more of a cape and tights kind of guy.”

“In that case, you’re welcome for broadening your horizons.” I give him a beaming smile, holding out an elbow for my cowboy escort to grab on.

Muttering under his breath, Cody links his arm through mine and together we make our way towards the entrance of the makeshift country club Taber’s student union managed to construct overnight.

Although our university is small, it always does a good job of creating unique opportunities for its students. From clubs to sports teams to campus-wide events, Taber promotes an inclusive community that helps bring students together in all kinds of social settings. Even my dear Lou, who started her university journey as one of the most socially self-conscious girls I have ever met, managed to find a home here at Taber.

Well, with the help of her adorable roommate and best friend, of course.

A crooked sign screaming,A Two-Stepping Good Time!welcomes us as we near the entrance, nasally singing and acoustic guitar floating out of the room.

“Look! They even got a horse.” I let out a laugh as we pass the cardboard cut-out, its two-dimensional nose not quite lining up with the feed bucket hanging from an equally fake outpost.

I love this event already.

Cody lets out a groan, “We're even after this, got it?”

I pat his arm absentmindedly, my hips already swaying to the country rhythm vibrating through the polished floor.

“If you perform well tonight, then yes, we are even.”

Cody’s brown eyes light up with amusement as he turns his gaze to the already-packed dance floor. Jean-clad couples of all shapes and sizes stomp and clap their way across the floor, belt buckles sparkling under the dimmed lighting.

“Who’s our competition?”

I grin at the question, knowing Cody is already on the same page. His competitive nature compliments my own and that is part of the reason why I wanted him as a partner tonight. Well, that and I didn’t have any other options that didn’t include Hunter.

Curse Lou for getting a boyfriend and leaving me to fend for myself.

“Them.” I point to a couple who are unmistakeably the best two-steppers on the dance floor. The girl’s two red braids spin elegantly as she twirls into the open arms of her partner. The partner matches her steps with ease, his dark skin and cowboy hat a beautiful contrast to her pale one.

I sigh in admiration, taking a moment to relish the piece of art the couple is slowly creating on the dance floor.

Mom would love this.

The thought comes unexpectedly and suddenly I’m struggling against the unmistakeable burn of my tear ducts. I get so focused on blinking that I don’t notice one leaks out until a callused thumb wipes my cheek gently.

“Can I do anything to help?” Cody’s voice is gruffer than usual, probably because he’s nervous I’m a second away from turning into a full-blown crybaby.

Forcing the past back where it belongs, I pull myself together with a snort that would make debutantes around the world cringe.

“Nope. Let’s do this.”

My shriek of laughter fills the air as Cody swings me from one side of his body to the other. I gasp once my feet touch the ground, barely having time to suck in a breath before the varsity captain is spinning me around again and again.

“Pause! I’m pressing the pause button.” My voice comes out shaky, my stomach still not quite back on solid ground. I drop my head between my knees to stop the room from spinning, but I end up falling forward when someone bumps into me.

A second before my face makes contact with the ground, rough hands yank me upright and press me close against a hard chest.

---