ICED: Boston Terriers Hockey #2

by Chance, Jacob

  She scowls. “No.”

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one before.”

  “This isn’t the only frat,” she saucily replies.

  “True. But this is the best frat.”

  “Says every frat boy about their own frat.”

  “Hey, I’m not a frat boy.”

  “Aren’t you? You’re a member of a frat and you live here too, right?” I nod. “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”

  “What do you have against frat members?” I turn the tables on her.

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “We should grab some drinks,” Perri cuts in, breaking up the awkward moment.

  “Sure,” Ava agrees.

  “I can help you guys out. What are you interested in? Beer, wine, or a mixed drink?” I question.

  “Stick with the beer or wine coolers,” Shaw suggests. “You should be safe if you do that.”

  “Oh jeez, that’s comforting to think about.” Ava shakes her head.

  “We’ve never had a problem, but there are a lot of people here tonight. And we can’t monitor what’s going on in every part of the house,” I explain. “No one in this frat would hurt anyone, but there’s a lot of traffic in and out and we’re not checking IDs or anything. Any Tom, Dick, or Harry off the street could be walking in.”

  “Maybe somebody should be,” Ava suggests.

  “That’s not really practical,” Marshall replies without elaborating, and she calmly nods in agreement.

  What the hell? Does she only have a problem with whatever I say? And why is that?

  “Come on.” I tip my head toward the kitchen. “I’ll grab you guys drinks. What do you want?”

  They walk beside me to the fridge. Tugging the door open, I gesture inside. “What’s your poison?”

  “I’ll take any cooler,” Perri replies.

  I grab the opener on the counter and pop the top off a random one.

  “Thank you,” she replies.

  “What about you, Ava?” I like saying her name.

  “Same please.”

  I pop the cap off another cooler, passing it into her small grip. Our fingertips brush and I want to catch her hand in mine to see if her skin is as soft as if felt in that split second.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “No problem.”

  The girls wander off until I lose sight of them. But what can I do? If I follow, I’m the creeper who won’t leave them alone. Nolan would appreciate me keeping an eye on Perri for him, but I get the sense that Ava finds my company bothersome.

  So much for Shaw’s theory about all the girls liking me. The only female I have the slightest interest in can’t seem to stand me. As the saying goes, ‘how do you like them apples?’

  The party rolls on with a steady influx of new people showing up. The house and back deck are packed. I’m pretty sure we’re breaking serious fire codes with the number of bodies here. Finishing my umteenth beer, I stroll around doing my best to appear nonchalant in my search for Ava… and Perri.

  “Shake it, baby. Shake it, baby.” The chant coming from the living room catches my attention. My stomach sinks as I head that way. I have a good idea of what might be provoking the cheering. And unfortunately, I’m right.

  Ava and Perri dance on the coffee table, ass to ass, hips gyrating and thrusting while every male in the near vicinity watches enraptured. I get it. I can’t take my eyes off them either. Especially Ava. She does this twerking motion every once in a while that has my fingers twitching with the urge to grip her hips and stand behind her. If she’s looking for something to grind on, I’d be more than happy to be that for her.

  Sweeping my gaze around at the observers, I make sure they’re all behaving. Watching is one thing, but touching isn’t going to happen. What guy wouldn’t enjoy these two gorgeous girls dancing together?

  And it doesn’t hurt that they know how to move. Teasing and drawing people in is part of their job at Score. And when it comes to holding people’s attention, they’re professionals.

  But as the saying goes, there’s always an asshole in the bunch. And true to form, one of the observers gets brave and tries to jump up on the coffee table between the two girls.

  There’s not enough space for all three of them and Ava gets knocked off balance. I see what’s about to go down before it does and I’m able to be there when she topples off the end of the table. I catch her in my arms and her half full bottle of wine cooler pours down my chest.

  Her eyes go wide as she looks from the pink stain spreading over my white t-shirt to my face. Does she think I’m going to be angry?

  “I’m sorry,” she gasps, suddenly sober.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Reluctantly, I set her on her feet. She sways toward me and I catch hold of her upper arms, steadying her. Maybe she’s had more to drink than I realized. Leaning down, I check her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just buzzing a little. I only had a few drinks, I’ll be fine.”

  A loud screech catches our attention. Perri draws her knee back and lets it fly right into the dancing machine’s balls. Still standing on the table, his torso folds over as he struggles for his next breath. Perri, feeling no remorse, pushes him off the table backward. He lands on his ass on the floor amidst a chorus of laughter.

  “Stay here for a minute,” I caution Ava as I stalk over to the guy. Grabbing his arm, I haul him to his feet. “Let’s go, asshole. You should keep your hands to yourself.” Dragging him along beside me, I steer his staggering, groaning form to the front door. “Don’t ever come to another one of our parties unless you want to get your ass beat. And this time it will be me doing it, not a girl.” I throw him onto the front stoop, immediately shutting and locking the door.

  Retracing my steps back to where I left Ava I’m disappointed to see she’s no longer there. Where the hell did she go now?

  Chapter Four

  Oliver

  Ava and Perri never made another appearance at the party after I kicked the jackass out. I’m pretty sure they snuck out via the back deck, but I can’t be sure.

  “Dude, I love you, man,” Donovan calls out as he walks into the kitchen. “I could smell the bacon all the way upstairs.”

  “So much for making myself something to eat,” I mutter as Donovan snatches a piece of bacon from the pile. I whack his hand with the spatula. “Get lost and I might share with you.”

  “Fine,” he grumbles, falling into a chair. “I’m hungover. I need greasy food.”

  “Good morning,” Perri calls out as she breezes in followed by a sleepy looking Ava. My eyes linger on her tousled hair and pink cheeks. She looks adorable in the morning.

  “Hey, I thought you guys took off last night after the asshat incident.”

  “Nah. I was in no condition to drive, so we stayed in Nolan’s room.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. Do you guys want any bacon and eggs?”

  “Oh sure, offer them some, but not me,” Donovan sputters.

  I point toward him with the spatula. “They’re not grabbing at the bacon, though, are they?”

  “It was one damn piece.”

  “Learn some manners.”

  Perri snorts. “Manners go out the window when bacon is concerned.”

  Donovan holds his fist out for her to bump. “Damn right they do.”

  “I hope you guys like scrambled eggs.” I peer over my shoulder at Ava.

  “Works for me,” Donovan announces.

  “I was talking to the girls, jackass.”

  “I’m fine with whatever,” Perri waves her hand.

  “Same here,” Ava quietly agrees.

  Is she hungover this morning? “Help yourself to some coffee.” I tip my head toward the fresh pot I just brewed.

  Ava’s chair pushes back with a sudden screech as she practically runs across the room.

  “Cups are in that cabinet.” I point. “Cream is in the fridge and sugar packets are in that drawer in
front of you.”

  “Oh my God.” She groans after she takes the first sip. “You may have just saved my life. And you kind of saved my neck last night too. I guess I need to thank you for both.”

  “Hey, I happened to be in the right place at the right time when you fell. I’m glad I was there.”

  “I am too. If I got hurt, I wouldn’t be able to dance. I can’t think of anything worse than that.”

  “I play hockey, so I understand what you mean.”

  Ava’s lips arc in a tiny smile before she returns to her seat at the table. It wasn’t much, but I’ll take what little she’s willing to give. It beats her slinging insults or giving me the stink eye.

  “Breakfast is ready.” I scrape the scrambled eggs from the pan into a large bowl with the rubber spatula. “If you want toast, it’s on you to make it. I’m not having any today.”

  “Fuck toast. Give me a piece of bread and I’m set.” Donovan grabs a plate.

  “D, why don’t you let the girls go first?”

  “Oh, uh, sorry. My bad. I’m not used to girls being here for breakfast.”

  “Speaking of, what happened to the two blondes you were with last night?” I ask.

  “They left late last night.” He grins slyly.

  “Gross. I don’t want to hear the details of how you lived out some three-way fantasy. I want to eat in peace,” Perri cuts us off. “Thank God I’m in love with the morally conscious brother.”

  Donovan laughs. “You got the better deal for sure.”

  Ava shudders beside her. Is she repulsed by what Donovan did? He’s single and only twenty years old. Would I have done any different in his shoes? I had Stacey to keep me in line when I was his age, but if I hadn’t, who knows what I might’ve been like?

  * * *

  Every time the music changes signalling a new act is on the stage, my eyes bounce in that direction. I don’t want to miss Ava. I caught the tail end of her routine the other night and it was fascinating. When she took her final bow, I swore she smiled at me. But I must’ve imagined it. She certainly didn’t behave like a girl trying to gain my attention when she came to the bar. If anything, she acted like someone who dislikes me. But we just met, so I don’t know why she’d have a reason to feel negatively about me. And even at the party she seemed annoyed with me, until I stopped her fall.

  Score is packed tonight and I’ve barely had a moment where I haven’t been mixing drinks or switching out empty bottles. I lose track of time and my focus on the stage as I try to keep up with the continuous orders flowing in.

  “Damn, look at her.” I hear a male voice at the bar call out.

  “She’s new here,” another person replies.

  My head snaps up from the drink I’m mixing, my eyes racing to the stage. I already know they have to be talking about Ava. She’s the only new dancer at Score.

  Sure enough, she floats across the stage, flipping and spinning from one side to the other. She must’ve trained in gymnastics too. Some of the skills she’s demonstrating are too complex to be self-taught.

  I forget the shaker in my hands as all my attention goes to Ava. Watching her steals my breath and makes forming any coherent thoughts impossible. My gaze never leaves her until she strikes her final position. Looking around, I notice I’m not the only one transfixed with Ava’s dancing. Every man and woman in this place is enamored with her right now. I’d bet my night’s tips on it.

  Returning my attention to the shaker in my hand, I finish mixing the martini and pour it in a glass. It doesn’t take long until I’m absorbed in my work once more, and the shift is passing quickly because of the steady orders.

  “Mike,” I call out to the other bartender on duty. “I’m going to grab some stuff from the back. Do you need anything?”

  His eyes scan the shelves of liquor before he shakes his head. “I’m set, thanks.”

  Moving out from behind the bar, I head toward the hallway leading to the stockroom. Passing by a few of the dressing rooms, I hear the chatter of the dancers. Is Ava in there? Half undressed? Stop it, man. Pure thoughts only. No girls for the rest of this year.

  Why is it so hard to remember this since I set eyes on Ava?

  The stockroom is neatly organized and it takes me no time to find the two bottles of liquor I’m in search of. I pass by the dressing rooms again and this time I manage to keep my thoughts in line.

  Retracing my steps back to the bar, I almost drop one of the bottles when I notice Ava sitting on a stool talking to Mike. Their heads are bent close together. What could they be talking about?

  Stepping behind the bar, I place the bottles where they belong and do my best to listen to their conversation.

  “Which weekend is it?” Mike asks.

  “The last one in September.” Ava’s eyes stare at him hopefully.

  “Aw, shit. I can’t. That’s the weekend I promised my parents I’d head home.”

  “Sure. Okay.”

  “No, really. I’m not just making an excuse. We have family coming into town that my mother hasn’t seen in twenty years or some shit. It’s going to be boring as hell. I’d rather spend the weekend with you.”

  Wait a minute. Is this the same thing she and Perri were talking about the other night? It sounds like she needs someone to be her date for the weekend. If that’s all she needs, I’m happy to help out. Hell, I might need a date sometime too. And this would be the perfect way to get one. It could be like a business deal.

  Mike steps away to take an order and I sidle over. “Ava, how are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good okay. What’s on your mind?”

  She arches a brow at me. “Are you one of those bartenders who thinks they’re a shrink?”

  “I don’t think it. I know it.” I grin. “Seriously, I do hear a lot of problems.”

  “What makes you qualified to give out advice?”

  “I guess it depends on what they’re talking to me about. I don’t give out as much advice as you’d think. I’m more of a listener.”

  “Hmm, a guy who listens. That’s a first.”

  “Hey, what can I say? I’m one of a kind.”

  She rolls her eyes and then her gaze locks on me questioningly.

  “What? What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing. I was thinking something crazy.”

  Is she contemplating inviting me? “Come on. Tell me what’s wrong. I really am a good listener.”

  She sighs and shrugs her graceful shoulders. “I have to go to a family reunion at the end of the month and I need a date for it.”

  “Why do you need a date for a family reunion?”

  “Because my older sister and my ex-boyfriend are now a couple.”

  “Oh, shit. That sucks.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “Did they hook up while you two were still together?”

  “Oh, they sure did.”

  “Christ. What kind of sibling does that?”

  “Not a nice one. But it was my own fault for not seeing it happening sooner.”

  “I don’t think you can take the blame for that. The two of them are in the wrong, not you.”

  “I guess.”

  “Don’t guess, just know. And why do you need a date because of them? Who cares what they think?”

  “I do. I care. I’m already the laughingstock because of it.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me.” Her large eyes are shiny. Oh, hell. Is she going to cry?

  “I don’t believe that. I think you’re hurt, and it’s only natural you’d feel self conscious about seeing them,” I rush to reassure her. “How long have they been together?”

  “Since the spring.”

  “Did you go home for the summer or do you live here year-round?”

  “I live in a one bedroom apartment. I usually go home for a visit, but I couldn’t bear to see them together.”

  “Are you orig
inally from Massachusetts?”

  “No. I grew up in Connecticut. That’s where the reunion is.”

  “Have you seen them since you broke up?”

  “No, not since they became a couple. It was at Easter that I caught them together. They weren’t doing anything that I could see, but they were awfully close. And they jumped apart when they noticed me. It was obvious something was up. He broke up with me the next day and I found out from my mother that they were together the following week.”

  My heart pangs in sympathy for what she’s been through. I can relate. “Your parents support their relationship?”

  “What are they going to do? They can’t really forbid her not to date him. She’s twenty-four. And they love us both, so they’re not going to choose sides.”

  “If you want a date for the reunion, I’ll go with you.” I’m probably making a colossal mistake by offering, but she needs someone with her who understands.

  “You will?” Her eyes are wide with surprise.

  “Yeah. I have an ex too. And I know what it’s like to be cheated on. Besides, we can have an arrangement of sorts. We can be each other’s dates when we need one, but just be friends.”

  “Really? No strings of any sort?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t know about you, but after my ex and I broke up, I swore off all relationships. I’ve avoided girls since then. I won’t always feel this way, but I messed up my final year of college and now I’m having to repeat it. I can’t let anything distract me for the remainder of the school year.”

  “And girls are a distraction?”

  “Hell yeah. They can be.”

  “I kind of feel the same as you. I’m hesitant to give another guy a chance. I was with Brian for two years. He professed to love me. If he could do that to me, how can I trust someone else?”

  “I was with my ex for over three years and she cheated on me.”

  “That sucks. I would’ve imagined it going the other way.”

  “What do you mean? I’m not the unfaithful type.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “You look like a player. And you kind of act like one too.”