Page 9 of I Blame the Alcohol

I frown, rescanning the room, and spot Nico still talking on his phone. The sleek black dress shirt he’s sporting tonight shifts against his torso as Nico rapidly shakes his head at whatever is being said down the line. Unease pricks my stomach as I picture the hunk of metal Wes drives, one that barely qualifies as a working vehicle. The grip on my solo cup tightens as images of car wrecks flash through my mind, every worst-case scenario arriving at one common denominator.

Stella could be in trouble.

Stella could behurt.

Full-blown panic thunders through my veins as I start making my way over to Nico. I’m about five feet from my destination when a slurring voice shouts for my attention.

“Cap! Come show these rookies how it’s done.”

I look over my shoulder to see Mason, the host and graduating defenseman this year, lounging on the couch with a pretty brunette draped over him. The combination of the girl’s green dress and Mason’s ginger complexion immediately paints them as the most festive couple in the room.

My eyes skip to the drunken oval slowly forming around the senior defenseman and it takes me a moment to realize they are all holding cards.

Anxiety continues to itch beneath my skin as I glance back to Nico, who is no longer on the phone and is making his way over to the card game. I exhale heavily, looking down at the sticky laminate flooring beneath my sneakers, and will my stress levels to climb back down.

If Nico isn’t worried about his best friend or the passengers then I shouldn’t be either.

Chugging the rest of my drink, I go for a quick refill before joining my teammates on the floor. Someone passes me a deck of cards and I shake out my suddenly shaky hands.

“Y’alright there, Cap?”

I start to slowly shuffle the cards before responding, “Never better. Now, does everyone know how to play hearts?”

A drunken chorus ofI think sogoes around and I deal out the cards, choosing to ignore the game my own heart seems to be playing lately.

“Son of a bitch!” Hunter’s exclamation has me leaning into the person on my left as laughter takes over my body. I am well into my buzz now and beating Hunter in cards is the yummiest cherry on top.

Is yummiest a word? If not, it should be.

“Uh oh. I think we’ve got ourselves a drunk captain.” Cheers erupt from the mass on the floor as Nico uses his body weight to push me back into upright position.

I frown in his general direction, certain the goalie’s eyes have never been so dark before. Can irises be black or just pupils?

“I don’t see you playing to win over there, Montezzz.” His last name comes out in three long syllables and suddenly I’m laughing all over again.

“Here, drink this.” A water bottle is pressed into my hands, and I immediately gulp it down. There were many hard lessons I had to learn in my first year, and not drinking water when it’s available was one of them.

“Thank you.” There are no direction to the words, but the reassuring pat on my back makes me think they arrived at the right person.

“Anytime, Cap. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you let loose before.” My head swivels towards the voice, one I have yet to hear tonight.

“Wes!” A dopey smile takes over my face as laughing green eyes come into focus. “It’ssogood to see you. What took you so long?”

Chuckling, Wes rakes a hand through his dark hair, drawing my attention to the Metallica shirt my favourite rookie is wearing tonight. Wes is more of a Disney soundtrack than a head-banging rock n’ roll kind of guy, so the new attire must be for the new Mrs.

“Aw, I missed you too. We had some trouble starting my car, so we did a bit of a switcheroo.” Dropping into a crouch next to me on the floor, Wes throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close enough to question both his relationship status and his sexuality.

The guys sitting around us don’t even bat an eye, which says a lot about Wes’ presence on the team.

“Switcheroo?” The man-sized lapdog finally leans far enough away that my personal bubble begins to reform. Brushing off a piece of invisible lint on his shirt, Wes makes himself comfortable beside me, spreading his jean-clad legs out on the floor in front of him.

“Mm, we ended up driving Stella’s car.” His eyes do a sweep of the room, and I can tell the moment they land on Lou because his lips pull into an easy, content smile.

The beer buzz I was cherishing earlier pales in comparison to the anticipation building up inside me. Unable to help myself, I do an obvious scope of the room, head swivelling from side-to-side until my sight zeros in on the person I have been waiting all night for.

Wow.

My mouth goes dry as I take in the vision in front of me, my heart audibly thumping against my chest.

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