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“Ha. I barely know them. Niall doesn’t want them anywhere near me. Little does he know his team’s owner has been all over this body.”
“And inside it,” Sheryl adds, the two of us erupting in laughter.
Lucy’s focused on the TV and doing her best to ignore us. “Get him,” she shouts just before Niall slams a player on the opposing team into the boards. “Yes!” She pumps her fist.
“Lucy, you do realize this game was weeks ago, right?” I ask.
And I thought I was the buzzed one.
She laughs, placing her hand on her chest. “Yeah, I know. I just got caught up in the emotion all over again.”
“That’s so cute. I want to be in love too. Which players are single?” Sheryl asks.
“Most of them are in relationships,” Lucy says, never taking her eyes off the screen. She clasps her hands in front of her. “Get the puck out of there,” she shouts as Niall battles another player for it. He gets the puck loose and passes it off to Kaiden.
Lucy is an example of what love does to people. It makes them lose their minds. Raising my glass, I swallow a large mouthful, appreciating the burning sensation on the way down.
Lucy jumps to her feet and shouts, “Score!”
“Dammit, I missed it,” I droll.
Sheryl leaves while the replay’s still going, but Lucy and I continue watching until the end. Well, Lucy does. My eyeballs may have been aimed at the TV, but my thoughts were occupied with Trey.
Lucy shuts the TV off once they show the final score and ensuing celebration as the Coyotes come out on top by two goals, which gave them back-to-back championship wins.
I’m so proud of Niall. After all he went through on his last team, for him to come here and have so much success is amazing.
When Lucy’s ready to head home, I wrap my arms around the large pitcher and won’t relinquish my hold. She rolls her eyes, and before she walks out the door, she tells me I’m going to regret it in the morning. I probably will, but I’ll take a headache over a heartache anyday.
As it turns out, there are only two drinks left in the pitcher. I drink them both down too quickly while sitting on my bed. When I’m finished, I place the empty glass on my nightstand and flop back onto my pillows. When I close my eyes, it feels like the mattress is wildly spinning. “Whee.” I laugh. I like this. It’s like a private amusement ride in my bedroom. I’m not drunk, but I’m definitely not sober either.
Okay, maybe I’m drunker than I thought.
After a few more minutes of my world spinning, I’m feeling slightly nauseous, and the novelty of the effects of the alcohol have worn off.
“Fucking James—Trey—whoever you are. All your fault,” I grumble, picking up my phone. Time to tell His Daddiness where he can go. I type out a text and send it off.
You need new clothes.
What’s wrong with my clothes?
When I read his reply, I realize I never changed his name in my phone. I take care of that before I reply.
They fit you too well.
That’s a bad thing?
My eyes squint as I tap the screen.
It is for me. Your pants show off your ass and your shirts show off your arms and flat stomach. For fuck’s sake, buy some looser clothes.
Have you been drinking?
Yep, but not enough.
I’d say you’ve had plenty. We can talk about my clothes tomorrow. Go to sleep, Sunshine.
I am. But not because you said so.