Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(5)

They have this stupid Bears Bro Code they keep referring to. “Someone please tell me these rules. I’m terrified I’m going to screw up and one morning I’ll discover my eyebrows have been shaved off.” I feel like an idiot, but then this whole year is apparently intended to make me feel like a big loser.

“We can’t explain it.” Buck shrugs and moves to the fridge, accepting his punishment. “It just is.”

“I think you make shit up.”

Buck and Rocket grin at each other and bump fists, which makes me feel…left out. But that’s how I usually feel around here lately. I can’t wait for our games to start so I can show these guys that I do fit in.

I volunteer to be the designated driver, which gives me a plausible excuse for not drinking. Buck, Rocket, and Soupy all go for this because it means none of them has to drive, and has the added bonus of being one mark in the “good books” for me. They give me directions for how to get to the house party and a while later we pull up in front of a huge Tudor-style house where a bunch of guys apparently live. It’s a warm September evening, already dark, and there are people outside on the lawn, drinking and laughing. The music is audible even there and it blasts us in the face as we enter the house, the atmosphere warm and humid from the crush of bodies, the scent of beer mingling with the faint odor of marijuana.

Some chicks are dancing in the dining room, tossing their hair, arms in the air, asses shaking. The living room is packed with people yelling at one another over the music. We head to the kitchen so the guys can get drinks. I crack open a can of Coke Zero and lift it to my lips as I survey my surroundings.

People greet Soupy, Buck, and Rocket, mostly girls, who all flash me flirty smiles. I smile back. Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many hot chicks in one place in my life. My resolve to avoid women is crumbling like a stale cracker.

“Hi,” one of the girls says. “I’m Tiffany. I lost my phone number, so can I have yours?”

I laugh uneasily. “Ha. Good one.”

“Are you a hockey player too?”

“Yep. I’m Jacob.”

“Are you a freshman? Because I don’t remember you playing last year.”

“I’m new to the school but not a freshman.” I have just enough semester hours for the college to consider me a sophomore. I don’t have to declare a major yet, and I don’t plan on being here long enough to actually graduate, so I can take courses that interest me, mostly science stuff.

“Where were you last year?” Tiffany asks.

“I was playing hockey in Canada.”

Her eyes widen. “I knew you were Canadian! I could tell from your accent.”

I chuckle. “I don’t have an accent.”

“Yes you do! The way you said ‘Canada’…” She repeats it with a nasally “n” sound that I’m pretty sure I didn’t use, so I laugh again. “I like Canada. It’s beautiful.”

“You’ve been there?”

“I’ve been to Niagara Falls.”

“Ah.”

“And I looooove hockey.”

“Me too.” That, I can be honest about.

“When’s your first game?”

“October third. An exhibition game against Queen’s University.” They’re a Canadian team up in Kingston, not part of our league.

Someone is trying to squeeze through the crowd, and Tiffany moves closer, her boobs pressing into my arm. My southern region takes notice. Goddammit.

I shift away and the other girls all introduce themselves, and then a few guys who I don’t know join us. They shake hands with me and I try to remember names. It’s no problem that I don’t know anyone there besides my housemates, as people seem eager to meet me, so there’s that. The attention helps my slightly battered ego.

My eyes are drawn to a girl across the kitchen. She’s sitting on the counter, her hands holding the edge as she leans forward to talk to a dude standing next to her. She’s wearing frayed denim cutoffs that show a lot of leg, and a loose white lace top that falls off one shoulder. It’s her hair I first notice because it’s long, nearly down to her waist, blond, and fantastically thick and wavy. I have a weakness for blondes and also for long hair because of the very first girl I banged, who let me wrap her hair around my dick. To this day, I get a semi when I see long blond hair. There are a few girls with long blond hair at this party, but this chick’s is sweet and as she moves I can see the underneath layer is pink, which amuses me. Plus, she has an amazing smile, and the way she’s leaning forward is giving the guy standing beside her a view of her cleavage. I don’t blame him for looking, because holy f*cking amazing.

She has a vibe about her that’s both hot and sweet.

Tiffany is waiting for an answer to a question I haven’t heard. “Sorry.” I flash my best smile at her and wink. “I zoned out.”

She follows my gaze across the room and her smile goes tight and kind of scary. “Uh-huh.” She sips her beer. “I asked what position you play.”

“Oh. I play left wing.” I set my can on the counter and take a pretend slap shot.

“You probably score a lot.”

Ha. I meet her gaze and smile and give her my wicked grin. “Yeah. I do.”

Her smile relaxes and her eyes darken.