Page 52 of I Blame the Club

The bus rolls to a stop and a collective sigh of relief sounds along the team. This road trip was tame compared to some of the ones we will have to do later this season, but that doesn’t stop us from complaining.

“Taber needs to invest in a bigger bus.” Hunter grumbles as he stretches his legs, his lacrosse bag precariously balancing atop Wes’ seat.

Wes grins and pokes the bag so it falls onto the stretching forward.

“You need to invest in a better attitude.”

“Dick.”

I laugh, grabbing my bag from the floor and joining the line filing out the door. Our bright orange team sweaters are a shock to the grey backdrop of the hotel parking lot as we all assemble outside the bus for a quick debrief.

Wes takes the lead, reminding everyone to be respectful and to save the hotel bar for after our game tomorrow night. I tune him out as he goes over the check-in time for warm-up tomorrow, letting my eyes drift to the man standing off to the side.

He’s typing away on his phone, the aviators perched on his nose giving him the bored expression of a movie star. At 6’2, I’m used to being one of the tallest guys in the room, but Mo is a whole different level. Height-wise, we’re the same, but the bodybuilding physique and commanding presence instantly makes him the most eye-catching person in the room.

He lifts his head and stares in my direction. The reflective sunglasses make it hard to tell who he’s looking at, but based on the way my skin is burning, I’d bet my life savings his eyes are on me.

“Anything you want to add, Nico?” Wes glances over, jolting me out of my lustful thoughts.

“Nope, you covered it all. Let’s kick some ass tomorrow!”

Pumping my fist in the air like a girl at a rock concert, the team rewards my efforts with a cheer. The group breaks to grab their respective gear and we all funnel into the hotel lobby. Mo disappears almost immediately while the rest of us are left to sort out our key cards.

“Dude, I’m supposed to be with Preston.”

“Hunter, you’re on the third floor with Millard.”

“Why does Millard get to be on the third floor?”

I groan, listening to the chaos that is Taber’s varsity team. Wes is in the middle of the mess trying to appease everyone when I walk over to the woman manning the front desk.

“Hey…” Sneaking a glance at her name tag, I paste a bright smile on my face, “Darlene. Could you do me a favour and help my friend out? He’s a rookie captain and needs some help.”

The middle-aged woman looks at me, her eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“What team do y’all play for?”

I glance down at my jersey, the snarling tiger mascot hard to miss, “Taber Tigers, ma’am.”

“Who?”

“Taber University. Down south?” I gesture towards my sweater in hope her eyesight is better than her hearing.

She sniffs, “Never heard of them.”

I force my smile to stay bright, “Have you ever eaten corn?”

A hand claps my shoulder, moving me aside. I stare, aghast, as Mo easily slides into my position and gives the woman a wink.

“Hi Darlene, I need a printed list of all the accommodations booked under Taber University please.”

The woman blushes, giving him an eager nod, “Of course, how many nights are the reservations for?”

“Two.”

She starts typing away on her computer while I turn and stare at the man beside me.

“Since when are you charming?”

---