“If you say so,” she flips the visor down and checks her makeup.
It takes thirty-five minutes to get from my place to Waters’. The driveway is packed with cars, and there’s some dude in a suit directing us down the street. Lance lets us out and then parks the car so Tash doesn’t have to walk a long way in her heels.
I give her a sidelong glance. She does that fidgety thing girls do when they know you’re looking at them and they’re self-conscious about it.
“What?” she asks.
I shrug. “Nothing. You a little antsy tonight or something?”
“No. I’m fine.” She adjusts her dress again.
She’s been the team trainer for about two years now, according to Miller. I’ve only been in Chicago for a few months, so I don’t know her all that well. She’s good at her job, she pushes us hard, and she’s fun to hang out with, but tonight she seems off.
“You wanna wait for Lance or head inside?”
“He knows where we’ll be. Let’s go.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and starts up the driveway.
Waitstaff greet us at the door with cocktails. We each take one and survey the house. It’s full of people, but I can see from the front foyer all the way to the open sliding doors at the back. They lead right into the backyard, which is also packed.
“Holy hell, Waters knows how to throw a party.” Tash takes a sip of her drink. “Don’t let me have too many of these; I’m liable to get up on a table and do a striptease.”
“I don’t think you’d get too many complaints about that. Except maybe from that one over there.” I point to a little old lady sitting on the couch, holding a wine glass with two hands.
“Oh, God. There are grandparents here. I hope the team doesn’t do anything to embarrass Violet.”
I snort. “Pretty sure she can do that all on her own.”
Violet is a riot. She’s probably worse than most of the guys on the team with the stuff that comes out of her mouth. I’m not sure if she’s a nervous person or half-crazy, but she’s entertaining to be around.
As if she hears us talking about her, Violet comes traipsing through the crowd. She’s all curves with a tiny waist. She’s wearing a red dress. It’s one of those wrappy things, so there’s a lot of cleavage. Violet’s got a huge rack, especially on a body as small as hers. It’s hard not to stare.
“Tash!” she yells and waves. There’s a slight weave in her step. When she sees me, she gets the look on her face she always does. I stuff my hands in my pockets and suppress a grin. I already know what’s coming.
Violet can’t deal with my name. Miller shortens my last name to Balls—it’s kind of an inside joke, which he’s not allowed to share with anyone or I’ll kill him—and her whacked-out brain changed it into something dirty. Although, I guess given my reputation with women, it’s not all that far out there.
Violet stops about three feet away from us. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. The empty glass she’s holding shakes. After a few more seconds she opens her eyes and smiles. “Hi, Randy,” she says through clenched teeth.
“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” Usually there’s some thrusting action that accompanies the articulation of my name.
“You have no idea. It’s guaranteed I’m going to say something embarrassing tonight. So far I’ve only accidently referenced Alex’s dick once.”
“Oh, God,” Tash stifles a laugh.
Violet holds up a reassuring hand. “It’s okay. I don’t think my grandmother caught it; she’s not wearing her hearing aids. I’m keeping everything crossed that I can control my mouth for the rest of the night, but it’s not my strong suit.” One of the waiters comes by to take her empty glass. Violet takes a new drink from his tray and holds up a finger so he doesn’t leave. She gulps it down in one swallow, hands the glass back, and reaches for another.
“Violet, baby, there you are.” Alex comes up behind her and snatches the glass away before she can get it to her lips. “Here. You should try this instead.” He folds her hand around the new glass and acknowledges us. “Hey, guys. Glad you could make it. Natasha, you look stunning.”
“Ooooh! What’s this?” Violet holds out the champagne flute. The concoction is pink, with little berries floating in it. A toothpick threaded with candies lies across the top.
“Charlene said you’d love it.”
Violet takes a sip and smacks her lips. She’s definitely drunk. Tonight should be interesting. “This is awesome. You’re the best, baby.” She runs a hand down his chest.
Alex catches it before it can go too low. “Anything for you, gorgeous.”
She leans into him and clutches his shirt, pulling him down. He gives us an apologetic look, and that’s before she says, louder than she probably means to, “Tonight I’m gonna ride your dick like we’re at the Calgary Stampede.”
“Shh,” he mutters. “We can talk about that later.”
“Right. Shh!” She puts her finger to her lips. “Speaking of riding things…” She lets go of Alex’s shirt and points at me. “You might want to find Lily. She is a hot tamale tonight. If I wasn’t marrying this sexy piece of ass, and I didn’t love his monster cock as much as I do, I might be interested in her. Except she’s a girl. So I’m not. But there are a bunch of horny guys who are.” She turns to Alex and cringes. “That was too far, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, baby.” He nods. “You saw the line and bulldozed right over it.”
“I told you this party wasn’t a good idea. We need to elope.” She guzzles the rest of her drink. “I need another one of these.”
“Let me take care of that for you.” Alex takes the glass and puts an arm around her. “I’ll catch you guys in a bit. Make yourself at home.” He steers her away as she grabs his ass.
Tash and I look at each other. “I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting night.”
“You can say that again,” Tash agrees.
Lance is still missing, so we make our way through the crowd. I’m on a mission to find Lily, especially after Violet’s report. Though she’s drunk, so she might be exaggerating. I don’t see Lily anywhere inside, so I shoot her a text telling her I’m here and ask for a location.
As Tash and I step out onto the deck in the backyard, her heel catches between two boards. I catch her before she can go down.
“Oh, crap! These shoes were a stupid idea.”
“You’re fine. I got you.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder and twists around so she can see what’s keeping her locked to the deck.
“Damn it. It’s really stuck!” She jerks her foot a couple of times.
“Let me see if I can get it.”
Just as I bend down, I spot Lily. She’s wearing a little blue dress, her lean legs on display. It reminds me of her figure skating outfits. It’s light and flowy, covering everything and not enough at the same time. And fucking Kirk is talking to her. He’s a dog.
I hold onto Tash’s ankle and tug. Her heel slips free, and her elbow comes up fast. I don’t have enough time to react. She connects with my nose.
“Ah, fuck!” I grunt and fold forward.
“Oh, shit!” Off balance from the unexpected freedom, Tash stumbles into me, her drink splashing on my shoe.
I’d like to care, but my face is throbbing, and my eyes are watering, so the drink isn’t nearly the issue it would be otherwise.
“Are you okay?” Tash takes my glass and sets it on the deck.
I’m surprised I was still holding it. All I can do is make a groaning sound.
“Do you have words?” She takes my face in her hands. “Randy?”
This time more than noise comes out. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I straighten and try to shake it off. “I’m dying.”
She laughs, but man, an uppercut to the nose hurts.
“Hey, guys—” Lance’s voice permeates the haze of pain. I turn to look at him, processing his confusion as it turns q
uickly to anger, which he aims at Tash. “The fuck is going on?”
All of the sudden it’s quiet on the deck.
Tash rolls her eyes. “Calm yourself, Lance.”
He points a hand in my direction. “Why are you all up on Ballistic?”
“I banged him.”
Lance seems more upset by this revelation than necessary. “You what? When?”
“Like two seconds ago,” Tash replies.
“How’s that possible?” He looks from me to her. “You make a pit stop in a bathroom before you came out here?”
“What?” Tash looks confused.
“Huh?” All I want is to lie down with an icepack on my face. These people are crazy.
“You’re a real piece of work, Tash. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you jumping someone.”
Tash’s eyes go wide, and her mouth drops. Her hand rises in smack mode.
I get in front of her before she can follow through with the bitch slap, which Lance may actually deserve. “That’s not what she meant by banged,” I tell him. “She elbowed me in the nose, by accident.”
“What?” Lance grabs the back of his neck.
Tash shakes her head. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
She pushes past him and goes back inside.
“Fuck. Shit. Tash, wait.” He goes after her.
Well, I guess Miller called it. There’s definitely something going on there. Or was.
Chapter 8
What’s Up with Bathrooms?
LILY
This creepy dude named Kirk won’t leave me alone. I don’t know where Sunny went. Or Miller. I scan the crowd again as he goes on and on about how amazing he is. He’s old, or older anyway. He’s got a few gray hairs at his temples and some creases around his eyes. I think he might be balding, but I can’t be sure because I’m a lot shorter than he is. I’d put him in his mid-thirties. But he’s not wearing a wedding ring, so I could be wrong about that, too.
Right about now I’d glom onto Momma Two if it meant I could lose this guy. Commotion on the deck pulls my already divided attention away from his monologue. Randy’s standing outside the French doors. Oh, God. He looks so, so good. He’s wearing black pants and a dark button-down shirt. It’s blue—almost the same color as my dress. We match, and we didn’t even plan it.
Then there’s this tall, incredibly built, very pretty woman with her hands on his face. She looks concerned. He looks—other than hot—intense. His hand is on her shoulder, and they’re close-talking.
I get that feeling—the same one I get when I make a mistake in competition. My whole body heats up and cools down at the same time. My stomach knots.
“I’m sorry.” I turn to Kirk, who’s still talking. “You’ll have to excuse me.”
I don’t wait for his response. I turn toward the house. Fortunately, I don’t have to pass Randy on the way inside since there’s another door. I enter through the kitchen and run into Sunny.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” she exclaims.
Miller’s leaning against the counter, stuffing appetizers into his mouth. He’s got a satisfied look on his face. I bet they disappeared somewhere to get it on. They’ve been doing that all day.
“Isn’t Randy here yet?” Miller pulls his phone from his back pocket and checks his messages. “Says he got here, like, ten minutes ago.”
“Yeah, but he’s with some girl.” I try to sound like it doesn’t matter, even though it feels like someone kicked me in the magic marble.
“What?” Miller’s eyes narrow.
The girl Randy was with on the deck comes storming through the house.
I point. “That’s her.”
“Tash?” Now Miller looks baffled.
“I don’t know what her name is, but they had their hands all over each other.” I swirl my drink.
“That’s the team’s trainer,” Sunny says.
A hockey player I recognize—his name is Lance, I think—is right on her heels, calling after her.
“I think maybe there’s a misunderstanding, because if anyone’s with Tash, it’s Lance, not Randy.”
Sunny nods. “Totally. Randy’s all about you these days.”
Miller gives her the eye.
“Isn’t that what you said earlier?” She twists her hair around her finger.
“Hey, Balls,” Miller’s gaze lifts over my head.
“Hey.”
His deep voice makes my insides liquid, but not Ebola liquid, sexy liquid. I can practically feel his body heat behind me. Okay, that’s not true, but he runs a finger from the nape of my neck all the way to the base of my spine, and I can definitely feel that. My body tightens with anticipation. All the blood seems to get sucked straight into my clit. Just from his finger. I don’t get it. Now all I want to do is jump him, even though less than five minutes ago some other girl was touching him.
I take a deep breath and turn. His hair is pulled back in that pony nub he’s got going on. Usually I think man buns are stupid. For some reason on him it’s sexy.
“Hey, Lily. Not gonna run away from me this time?” His lip curves up in a half-smile.
His beard is so perfect. Just like the rest of him. I want to run my fingers through it. Stroke it. Him. I also might want to ride his face. Again. Jesus. What’s wrong with me? I realize I’m staring, and he’s made a snarky comment. I open my mouth, and all that comes out is a sigh.
His grin gets bigger. Cocky pucker. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
I take a hefty sip of my drink. It’s strong, whatever it is. I turn my head and cough. When I look back again, I’m slightly more composed. “I don’t see the point since you’ll probably follow me anyway.”
“There’s a good chance.” He skims my shoulder with a fingertip. “This is pretty.”
“Thanks.” The tags are still attached to this dress. They’re tucked inside, and the little plastic thing is poking me in the armpit. It cost more than a hundred dollars. I can’t afford to keep it, so my plan is to wear it tonight, have it dry cleaned, and return it to the store on Monday. It’s dishonest and underhanded, but I wanted to look nice tonight. The last formal-ish dress I bought was for my prom, and that was years ago.
We stand and stare at each other for a while longer, saying nothing. I wish I would have hugged him right away or something, but it seems awkward now. All the messages we’ve been sending back and forth over the past week make my skin hot. It’s so much easier to flirt and threaten sexting when I don’t have to look at his face.
“So what’s going on with Tash and Lance?” Miller asks.
“Who knows. They’re acting all weird. I’m not sure what the deal is, but Tash elbowed me in the face, and Lance misunderstood, and now they’re pissed at each other.”
“Are you okay?” Sunny asks, seeming genuinely concerned.
“It’s fine, just kinda hurt for a few minutes. Thanks for asking.” Randy directs his grin at me.
Miller takes a swig of his beer and shakes his head. “I still don’t get why she’d be interested in him. He puts his dick everywhere.”
“You used to put your dick everywhere,” Sunny pipes up. She’s not angry, just honest.
“I was never that bad.”
Randy lifts an eyebrow. Sunny does the same.
“Seriously. I wasn’t that bad.”
Sunny pats him on the cheek, then replaces her hand with her lips. “It’s okay, Miller. I’m just saying, I still gave you a chance even though you were slutty, and look how well that’s turned out? People change, or at least the things they want can change.”
Miller kisses her fingertips. “I had to work real hard to convince you I was serious about you, sweets.”
Sunny bats her lashes. “You did such a good job, too.”
Randy makes a gagging noise. “You two are worse than a chick flick. You need to take that shit somewhere else.”
“They’ve been taking it somewhere else all damn day,” I mutter int
o my glass.
Miller and Sunny break apart. “We have not!” Sunny’s voice is high, the way it gets when she’s lying, or embarrassed.
“It’s okay, sweets. Don’t feel bad about wanting a piece of this.” Miller motions to himself, more specifically his crotch.
“I’ll be back in a minute. I need the ladies room.” I set my glass on the counter and turn to Randy. “Keep an eye on these two; they keep disappearing.”
“And that’s a problem why?”
I roll my eyes and head for the bathroom. I need to gather myself. I don’t like how territorial I feel about Randy, and we haven’t even slept together. I remind myself that this isn’t going to be serious. He lives in Chicago. I live in Canada. We’re having some fun. I need a break from serious anyway. I deserve this, and I can totally handle it.
I lock myself inside the bathroom, surprised and a little disappointed that Randy didn’t follow me this time. I turn on the tap while I do my business, then check my reflection in the mirror. Violet and Charlene had their way with my face. I didn’t let them do much, but I’m wearing mascara and eye shadow. I drew the line at lipstick and made do with gloss.
I pull out a package of wipes from my purse and tear it open. It smells like mint and cucumber. Violet gave them to me today and told me to thank her later. I drop my panties, which are edged in lace, and give myself a little rubdown. I want to be prepared for whatever happens, or doesn’t, tonight. The mint makes everything tingle.
I toss the wipe in the garbage, wash my hands, fix my hair again, and open the door.
“Took you long enough.” Randy steps inside and locks us in.
“What’s with you and bathrooms?” I back up until I hit the wall.
He steps in close. “What’s with you and always running away from me?”
“I wasn’t running. I had to use the bathroom.” If I could dig my nails into the plaster behind me, I would. As it is I’m fighting the urge to run my hands over his very hard, very big body. If I arch my back at all, parts of me will touch parts of him.
“I think maybe you were looking for a reason to make me follow you.” He braces his forearm against the wall beside my head. His shirt stretches tight over his bicep. God, he’s ripped.
Pucked Over (Pucked #3) Page 8