Page 36 of Ice Ice Maybe
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway like I was walking the plank. That was when I heard the door slamming behind me, the last nail in a coffin. A very embarrassing, scantily clad coffin.
I turned slowly, meeting Nolan’s frozen gaze.
His expression of shock mirrored my own internal horror.
“Please tell me you have the room key,” I whispered, already knowing the answer from the way the color drained from his face.
We were locked out of our room, and the hallway had suddenly become a catwalk of calamity. I stood there wrapped in my bed sheet, flanked by Nolan in his boxer-briefs. Completing our trio of mortification was Mitch, looming in white bikini briefs that could have easily doubled as a dinner napkin.
Wait a minute …
Why was Mitch also in his underwear?
I blinked hard, wondering if I’d somehow slipped into some bizarre dream world where I had crashed Mitch and Nolan’s impromptu underwear party. Maybe I’d wake up any second now, safe in my bed, giggling about this ridiculous scenario my subconscious had cooked up.
Mitch turned to me and crossed his arms. “You think I want to hear all those noises coming from your room? And what’s with that freaky pirate stuff?”
Nolan bumped my arm playfully with the side of his arm. “She likes to role-play and this time I was Johnny Depp, fromPirates of the Caribbean.”
“Don’t forget we’re doingBack to the Futureafter the game tonight,” I said, playing right along like an improv pro. “You promised to show me your flux capacitor.”
“With pleasure!” Nolan snapped his finger. “Remind me to pick up some plutonium in the gift shop.”
Mitch held up his hand. “Please stop! You’re killing my mojo!”
“Come on, Mitch, we both know you killed your own mojo the moment you slipped on those tighty-whities,” Nolan said, glancing down at his briefs.
Mitch was about to say something, but the elevator dinged behind me. He glanced over my shoulder and froze.
I spun around and blinked rapidly, not believing my eyes. My thoughts of this being a dream had been shot down in flames. This was a nightmare of epic proportions. Our fake relationship had turned into a very real, very public disaster. Especially since the elevator delivered two wide-eyed witnesses to our humiliation.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dalton!” Nolan said to my parents with a forced smile, his hands quickly dropping to cover his boxer-brief-clad lower half. “It’s so good to see you.”
Chapter Ten
Nolan
The last time I was this mortified was when I had attempted hot yoga to impress a woman on a first date. I slipped in a puddle of my perspiration, taking down an entire row of Zen practitioners like sweaty dominos. Coincidentally, everyone in that class was also half-naked.
I glanced at Zena, who looked like she was contemplating whether the sheet she was wearing could be used as a parachute for a quick escape off the 40thfloor. Mr. Dalton’s face was turning an alarming shade of purple, while Mrs. Dalton seemed to fight a losing battle against her own amusement. Her eyes were flicking back and forth between my chest and my legs, and I wished I’d gone for the more modest footie pajamas instead of my current attire of almost nothing.
“Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?” Zena squeaked.
“Never mind that,” Mr. Dalton said. “What are you all doing in the hallway naked? Have you been taking some hallucinogenic drugs or something?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I said, trying to sound casual about all the skin he was seeing. “Zena and I got locked out of our room. That’s all.”
Mr. Dalton nodded as he eyed Zena’s grunting caveman ex. “And you expect me to believe that you happened to also get locked out of your room?”
Mitch waved his key card in the air like a victory flag. “I’m not locked out. I was in the middle of my pregame routine and these two would not stop making ridiculous noises in their room. I came out here to shut them up.”
“Dressed like that?” Mr. Dalton asked.
Mitch sighed dramatically. “I like to visualize scoring goals in my underwear. It allows my mojo to align properly with the cosmos, and the static electricity from the synthetic fabric of my underwear creates a conduit to amplify my psychic connection to the puck.”
I can’t believe Zena dated this guy.
“Fewer clothes is also more freeing,” Mitch added.
