Best Played (Salt Lake Pumas) Page 2

  Somewhat annoyingly, one of the other guys joined in. “Yeah, you never party with us, Olle! We keep hearing about your party days but we’ve never seen them!”

  It was just chirping, I knew that, but the words still struck home pretty heavily. He wasn’t wrong, I definitely used to party but those days were long behind me. They’d cost me my first team and, while it was probably for the better in the grand scheme of things, partying was not something I was proud to remember.

  “That’s just because, unlike you idiots, Olle has learned that he doesn’t have to drink to have a good time,” Luke interrupted. As my captain, he knew a lot more about the reasons behind my choice not to drink than the newer, younger players.

  I appreciated that he didn’t share those reasons without asking.

  “Olle’s gonna be able to thrash you all at Mario Kart,” Will added. “And that’s the kind of good time I can get behind.”

  Alfie visibly pouted but he didn’t dare to push it, not in front of Luke. The other guys seemed a little more bashful, too, like they realized that insisting someone who doesn’t drink have a drink wasn’t the best thing in the world.

  It wasn’t like I had a problem with alcohol. Not the way some of them probably assumed. Still, alcohol and I didn’t mix very well.

  “Come on, Alfie, come show us this amazing cocktail you can make,” Will said, nudging Alfie towards the kitchen where most of the alcohol was. I gave him a small grin and, when the guys had departed to experiment with stuff that definitely wasn’t kumquats, I turned to Luke.

  “Levi thinks that the most obvious alternative to an orange is a kumquat,” I informed our captain. “And that’s why we need to supervise the children.”

  Luke laughed, his palm slapping against the space between my shoulder blades. “I couldn’t even tell you what a kumquat tastes like,” he admitted. Honestly, I doubted many of the guys could. And definitely not Alfie, who regarded all things fruit-or-vegetable with suspicion.

  “But you’ve got enough soft drinks, yeah?” Luke asked. “El bought loads of those sodas that don’t somehow have any calories or caffeine or… anything, really.” He made a face. “I don’t really know what the point is if they’re made of nothing. Do you want us to get you something else, next time?”

  The offer was kind but also unnecessary. The sodas were perfectly fine and failing that, I had no objections to drinking water. But I supposed, I understood how it could feel a bit awkward. I wasn’t even the only person here not drinking, though I was definitely in the minority.

  Still, organizing parties usually came with the expectation that everyone would end up a bit drunk. “The drinks are fine,” I assured Luke. “Don’t be weird and make me stand out,” I added and Luke raised his arms in mock-surrender.

  “You don’t have to feel bad that I don’t drink,” I pointed out. “It is a choice and it’s fine. It’s not like I feel weird about it.” And it really wasn’t. In general, I didn’t really care.

  “I don’t feel bad,” Luke objected. “And I’m not trying to make you stand out. I just want you to have a good time. Or as good a time as it’s possible to have. I know drunk people aren’t always fun to be around.” As our captain, Luke had served as designated driver more than once. He did actually get that there was a point at which drunk people tended to be more annoying than funny.

  He elbowed me in the ribs. “Maybe next time, I’ll get kumquat juice for everybody,” he teased. My laugh was more of a snort, but at least it broke the tension between us. “Come on, I’ll give you a proper race before the children get back with their terrible cocktails,” Luke offered.

  It was an offer I gladly accepted. By the time the guys returned with Alfie’s ‘special’ cocktails, we were mid-game already. There was some good-natured chirping about us being too old for video games, but no one said anything more about me drinking.

  I gave Will a nod, sure that he must have had words with the guys but he just grinned at me before joining in to accuse Luke and me of driving too slowly because we were old, like he wasn’t the exact same age as us.

  The rest of the night went pretty much the same way, more video games, more snacks. Everyone did get a little bit too drunk by the time midnight was approaching but I could hardly fault their celebration.

  In the kitchen, Lacey found me. I was looking through the soft drink selection for the tenth time that night.

  “Oh, hey, Olle! Just who I’m looking for!” Lacey exclaimed in that way that was a bit too friendly, just enough to tell me that she was already pretty drunk.

  “Hey, Lacey,” I greeted. “What can I do for you?” I liked Lacey, she was good for Will. Where Will was serious, Lacey was bubbly. It made Will cheer up a lot, which I found sweet.

  “Ah, well, um, this is awkward, but um, Will said you might be the best person to ask? My friend Roxi,” and there she waved her hand back at the room where the party was taking place.

  “Tall, ginger, grew up in a vineyard?” I asked and Lacey’s eyes widened.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, sounding genuinely pleased that I knew who Roxi was. Then Lacey seemed to momentarily forget what she was talking about. I waited, letting her gather her drunken thoughts back together. It was almost funny to watch her refocus on what her original point had been. “Yes, so, Roxi. She’s pretty drunk and, well, Will said you might give us a ride home?”

  I gave a small ‘ah’ and that and set down the can of soda I’d just picked up. “Sure, that’s no problem.” I nodded. It wasn’t the first and doubtfully would be the last time someone had asked me to drive them home.

  “Are you sure?” Lacey asked. “I feel bad for ruining your evening!”

  “Don’t,” I promised. “It’s truly fine, I was probably going to head home soon anyway. So let's get Roxi and I’ll give you a ride home.” I smiled.

  Satisfied that she really wasn’t inconveniencing me, Lacey led me over to where Roxi was. Unlike Lacey, Roxi’s eyes didn’t really focus, rather somewhat aimlessly traveling to look at Lacey and then me and then back at Lacey.

  “Come on, Roxi, Olle’s going to help us home!” Lacey told her friend, sounding very cheery.

  Roxi’s lips parted, then closed again, her lashes fluttering against her cheek and catching the light from overhead. “Ohhh,” she breathed, then gave a giggle that was at least half a hiccup. It was kind of cute, even if Roxi was still struggling to look straight at us.

  “That’s so nice of you!” Roxi took a step toward me, wobbling wildly as she failed to balance on the high heels she’d managed so well earlier in the evening. I threw an arm out, catching Roxi’s elbow to keep her from tilting all the way over.

  She just laughed, her hand coming to rest on my forearm. Her fingers spanned the shape of my muscle in a caress that felt too intimate from someone I hardly knew.

  “You’re so strong,” she sighed.

  “I’m sorry, she’s really quite drunk,” Lacey offered apologetically.

  It wasn’t the first time a drunk woman was amazed by my arms, which maybe was a strange thing to happen more than once but possibly not when you played pro-hockey. Supporting Roxi, I promised Lacey that it was fine. Perhaps not ideal, but still fine.

  Roxi hardly weighed anything so it wasn’t particularly challenging to lead her through the house and to my car. Lacey, thankfully a lot less drunk, followed easily.

  “You have a nice night, Roxi?” I asked almost a little teasingly, unlocking my car.

  “Yeah!” she agreed, her fingers claiming an even firmer grip on me as I tried to maneuver around her to open the door. I made every effort to be gentlemanly, doing my best to ignore the way our jostling made Roxi’s body press closer against mine. I got a faceful of her hair, deeply inhaling the scent of lemons that seemed to cling to it.

  Finally, I managed to get the door open. With another sigh, Roxi wobbled away from me and folded herself into the seat, blinking up at me with her lips slightly parted.

  “You’d like Tenness
ee,” she told me. “The sky’s really big. Like you, like the ice.”

  The comment startled an unexpected chuckle from me. I’d certainly been told I was big before - it helped with defending the goal - but no one had compared me directly to the ice. Or the sky, for that matter.

  “Thank you, Roxi.” I grinned. “I’m going to let Lacey get your seatbelt on,” I told both her and Lacey. I didn’t mind helping Roxi to the car, but reaching over her might be a bit too intimate. Even more so than her just gripping my arm.

  While Lacey did that, I walked over to the driver’s side. Thankfully, it didn’t take Lacey very long to get herself buckled in. “Are either of you able to give me instructions?” I asked, glancing at Lacey in the back seat more so than Roxi who seemed fascinated by the buttons on the radio.

  “I can give you the address?” Lacey offered hopefully.

  “Good enough.” I nodded, pulling out my phone.

  Before much more time had passed, we were off. The car ride wasn’t long but it was probably long enough that I needed to go slowly on all the turns. “You aren’t going to be sick in my car, are you, Roxi?” It wouldn’t be the worst thing. Sam had once puked all over my old car after a concussion. There couldn’t be as much vomit in a small woman.

  She clicked her tongue. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her shaking her head, her long hair swishing over her shoulders. She’d had it up earlier, but now it had tumbled loose, which somehow just made her look more drunk, like even her hair wasn’t quite under her control.

  “Drinking doesn’t make me sick,” she assured me. “And your driving isn't that bad.” The unexpected insult made me laugh, which just made Roxi squint at me, clearly unaware that she’d said anything funny.

  “Besides,” she added, once I’d stopped, “that would be embarrassing!”

  “And we wouldn’t want that,” I agreed. It wasn’t true of course, while I definitely preferred her not to puke in my car, she was drunk. It was a risk you took when agreeing to drive drunk people home.

  Roxi kept fidgeting with the radio, switching it from one station onto the next. Almost instinctively, I reached out for her hand, stopping her from pressing the buttons.

  “Why don’t you tell me more about the vineyard, hmm?” I asked. It would stop her from switching from a station to a station, but also hopefully keep her awake. Not that I imagined it’d be too hard to get her out of my car; she might be tall but she was still slight.

  Besides, I genuinely enjoyed hearing Roxi talk about where she’d grown up. She could conjure so much vivid imagery. Not to mention the obvious love of the place that poured out as she spoke about it.

  As we learned more about the vineyard and the many different people - and animals - in Roxi’s life growing up, the car ride seemed to take no time at all. Soon, the navigation informed me that we’d arrived and, once parked, I went around to help Lacey get Roxi out of the car.

  “Just lean on me,” I told her. It would be easier for everyone involved, since Lacey could hardly support Roxi. Maybe if she had been sober, but if anything, Lacey seemed to have gotten drunker on the car ride home.

  “Mmm,” Roxi hummed, letting me take her body weight between faltering steps. “You’re good to lean on. Sturdy. I couldn’t push you over, even if I tried.” That probably wasn’t entirely true, but luckily for all three of us, Roxi didn’t attempt to push me over.

  Eventually, I managed to get her and Lacey into her apartment building. Even in the dark, I could tell it was a nice place, all glass and straight lines. It struck me as very different from Roxi’s descriptions of her childhood home.

  The stairs were really too narrow for me to offer much support. I mostly brought up the rear, making sure neither Lacey nor Roxi fell down. It took Roxi some time to find her keys, still telling me all about her favorite horse growing up.

  Finally, she pushed the door open and managed to get herself more or less inside. Lacey turned to me, making a motion as if to pat my arm, but not quite reaching. “Thanks so much, Olle!”

  “Olle! Olle!” Roxi added, a one-person NHL crowd, making me chuckle again.

  It was hard to fault her enthusiasm. “Am I giving you a lift back to the party?” I asked Lacey. I knew she and Will lived together now, but she might choose to stay with Roxi.

  Lacey, too, seemed to consider this. “I think I’ll stay,” she decided. “Otherwise I might get even more drunk and then you’ll have to take me home.” The way she scrunched her nose up made me laugh, but it wasn’t long-lived because Roxi slumped against me, like she wasn’t quite able to hold her bodyweight herself anymore.

  “Come on, where’s your bedroom? We’ll get you to bed and I’ll let Lacey deal with the rest,” I commented, my hand easily settling against Roxi’s back to support her better.

  “Ohhh, no,” Roxi protested, still clinging to my arm. “You’ll laugh at me!” It was hard to imagine what Roxi could possibly have in her bedroom that she thought I might find funny. My curiosity was piqued, but I also wanted to be a gentleman. Roxi and I didn’t know each other well, if she wanted to keep her bedroom private, that was her right.

  Lacey tottered along beside us, managing to pry Roxi away from me, wedging a shoulder under Roxi’s armpit to support her. “Maybe I should take it from here,” she suggested. From the way her chin shook, I got the feeling she was trying not to laugh. “We can’t get into much trouble between here and the bedroom.”

  “Alright.” I nodded. I was hardly going to argue that I had to help. Instead, I helped Lacey take Roxi from me. “Do you want me to wait?” I asked. “Just in case.” I wasn’t sure in case of what. Perhaps if Roxi fell over or something, but Lacey shook her head.

  “No, you’ve already helped loads,” she promised. “Thank you so much.” And while the thanks was unnecessary, I still appreciated it.

  I bid them both a goodnight and Roxi gave me a look that seemed almost sad, but it might have been mostly to my arms, it was hard to tell. Letting myself out, I shook my head. This wasn’t how I’d expected my evening to go, but I also didn’t mind.

  Being the sober one at parties did come with the risk of needing to drive people home, but knowing that both Roxi and Lacey could get home safe made it worth it.

  And it gave me a good excuse to go home earlier. Glancing at the clock, I decided that it was late enough in Sweden for me to call my mom and check in.

  “We won the game,” I started with when she answered the phone, laughing at the delighted squee my mom gave in response. She had always been my biggest fan.

  Chapter Three

  Roxi

  My bedroom tipped this way and that as Lacey helped me get my heels off. It made the framed prints on my bedroom wall waver. Even as I tried to focus on Olle’s framed jersey, the letters of his name blurred into one big streak against the colorful fabric.

  “He’s so handsome, Lacey,” I observed, fumbling under my shirt to try and unhook the clasps of my bra. The soft patchwork quilt laid out on my bed was calling to me. I wanted nothing more than to burrow under it and close my eyes so that the world would stop spinning. “And he’s so nice!”

  I hadn’t anticipated bringing Olle home with me! If I had, I would’ve taken care to stay more sober. At least I’d stopped him from coming into my bedroom. While I certainly had no objection to him being there in general, I at least wanted to take his signed shirt down first. Otherwise, he’d think I was a crazy fan.

  “Maybe I am a crazy fan,” I mused out loud, my arm getting tangled in my shirt-sleeve as I tried to get my bra strap off my shoulders. “Do you think I’m crazy? Rachel thinks I’m lonely.”

  Lacey hummed in a way that seemed to make the room spin a little less. She helped me into the bed, pulling the blankets over me in a comfy way. “I don’t think you’re a crazy fan,” she promised. “You just like hockey. Lots of people like hockey.”

  But I didn’t just like hockey, I especially liked Olle!

  I must have said that out loud, b
ecause Lacey laughed. “Sure, but you don’t like him in a weird way. Just a normal, fan-ish kind of way. And now you’ve felt his arms up,” she grinned, making me instantly blush.

  “They’re very nice arms,” I countered. Of course, this wasn’t really news to me. You could tell how nice Olle’s arms were just by looking at photographs - and I’d looked at plenty! But having actually felt them added more data points. “Anyone would feel them up, given the chance.”

  So maybe I wasn’t a crazy fan. But that didn’t solve the problem of Rachel’s wedding. “I don’t want to go by myself and have everybody feel sorry for me,” I whined. Lacey gave me a look like she had no idea what I was talking about. Backtracking in my head, it became clear I hadn’t said the wedding bit out loud.

  “I need a date for Rachel’s wedding,” I reminded Lacey. “Someone who is willing to pretend we’re actually dating!”

  “Oh right, yeah,” Lacey hummed like that made perfect sense.

  Taking a seat on the bed but over the covers, Lacey gave a small hum. “We can figure this out, for sure,” she decided. “I mean... Olle seems nice? I could ask him.” The idea of Olle pretending to be my boyfriend made my breath practically catch in my throat.

  “He is nice,” I agreed. Even though I’d only had two conversations with Olle, I’d also read a lot of articles about him and interviews he’d given. He’d always seemed like a genuinely good guy, talking about how much he liked the team he played with and how his mom was his biggest fan.

  Shaking my head, I tried to dislodge those thoughts. “But why would he want to pretend to be my boyfriend?” I asked. “There’s not really anything in it for him.” I was happy to pay for tickets to Tennessee for anyone who would come with me - but a star goalie for the NHL hardly needed to accept freebies.

  “I just wish Steph was single, too. Then it wouldn't be so bad!”

  Lacey waved her hand at my complaint about Steph and that was probably fair. I didn’t actually wish that she wasn’t single, just that... I wasn’t either. Or rather, that I had someone to take to my sister’s wedding. Being single didn’t even bother me. Or hadn’t done until Rachel had made it into a thing.