Page 102 of Ice Me Out
“Naw,” he slurs. “I’m ok. But seriously, you aren’t hooking up anymore? I mean no offense, Bex, you’re hot. But as long as I’ve known Jamie, he’s never been a rela—wait, what do you call that thing where you can only fuck one girl? Like… exclusion or something? Shit, I have it just on the tip of my tongue.”
Oh, boy.
I’m fucking glad I’m a quiet drunk. But if I was looking for a sign from the universe that I should cut back, looking at how Tucker is making a complete fool of himself does the trick.
“Can I have bibs… no sorry. I mean dibs. Can I have dibs on Bex when you get bored with her? She has a spectacular ass.”
The irony with drunken people. Tucker can’t manage to say dibs, but spectacular is no problem.
I take a few steps closer to this shit show when our goalie attempts to pull Bex out of Jamie’s arms.
“Tuck,” Jamie seethes. “You’re my friend and I love you, and I know that you’re wasted and you aren’t even going to remember the shit you’re saying tomorrow morning. But if you try to put your hands on my girl again, so help me fucking God. Coach Harrison’s punishment will be the least of your worries.”
That would be a deterrent in a normal situation. Sober Tucker would know he’s crossed the line, and he’d apologize.
Drunk Tucker?
He finds Jamie’s threats hilarious. “Aww, come on,” he chuckles. “Don’t be like that. Teammates should share everything. Right? What do you say, Luke? Can I have my turn with your sister when Jamie is done? I call bibs. No, no. It’s dibs, dammit.” He slaps his huge paw over his forehead.
Yeah, no. If Jamie shared Bex with anyone but me, I would be fucking livid.
“Ok.” Luke gets there at the same time as I do. “I think we’ve made enough of a scene. Tucker, you’re a fucking dipshit. We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning. But right now, you’re cut off. Let’s take you home.”
Like every drunk in the world, Tucker doesn’t take the hint.
“I’m done when I say I’m done. You’re not the boss of me.”
Luke puts a heavy hand on our goalie’s shoulder. “No, but I’m your captain. Coach is looking at us now. This is the time to go home, before we all get in trouble.”
I flank Tucker’s other side. “Yeah. Let’s walk you home. Some fresh air will be good for you. I’m sure no one wants you to barf in their cars, anyway.”
He tries to shrug us off. “I said no. I’m not going. Unless I can bring Bex back to my room.”
“That’s it.” Jamie barks. “I don’t care if Coach is watching. I’m gonna kick your ass.”
I don’t really blame him, but the situation is getting out of hand. The only saving grace is that the Dean has already left.
But we need to get Tucker out of here before it’s too late. “Come on, Jamie.” I try to reason with him. “You know Tucker doesn’t mean it.”
Jamie shakes his head. “I know. But he’s being a jackass. He’s making Bex feel unsafe.”
Bex intervenes to soothe her boyfriend. “I’m ok, babe. I know he doesn’t mean it. Get him home before your coach comes here.”
Luke and I tighten our holds on Tucker’s shoulders, but he struggles.
“Hart,” Luke grunts, struggling to keep Tucker in check and to keep his voice down. “Give us a hand?”
Jamie looks torn between us and his girlfriend. “But I was gonna help Bex with the cleanup.”
“Don’t worry, babe.” Bex reassures him. “The caterers will clear the bar and the food. All we have to do is take down the decorations and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow’s workshops. Candace and the girls will stay to help. I’m sure they’ll convince Corey and a few of your teammates to stay, too.”
“I’m coming back to give you a ride home.” Jamie says.
Bex pushes on the tips of her toes to brush a quick kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry about that. Take care of your teammate. I’m going to get a ride with Candace. I’ll see you at home soon. The party has started to wind down, anyway.”
“Aww,” Tucker gushes, suddenly mellowing down. “So cute.”
Tucker Prescott is a big guy, but like most goalies, he’s surprisingly fast and limber. And like every drunk, he’s unpredictable. He slips out of our holds and lunges at Bex to get his own goodnight kiss.
