“You sure you wantto do this, Hawaii?” I asked, hesitating outside the townhouse, sounds of the party thumping across the yard. The guys were clearly throwing a rager. Devon had stopped hosting parties, which most people had attributed to the Harley situation. The current one was taking place at a townhouse rented by a few of the juniors on the team.
Sophia grabbed my hand and bobbed her head once in a confident nod. “Yep. I won’t let that one night define me. I can do this.” She looked at me and took a deep breath. “Ineedto do this.”
“Okay, baby, let’s do it.” I pulled her against my side and kissed her head as I pushed the front door open and was immediately assaulted by the smell of stale beer and the sound of ska music pumping through the speakers. A game of beer pong was taking place in the living room to our left, and there was someone—Reynolds maybe—lying face up on the kitchen counter to our right with shots of tequila lined across his chest and several eager girls waiting to do body shots.
“Christ, I fucking hate this scene,” I mumbled. I’d never loved coming to parties, but I disliked it even more now that the alternative was hanging out in my dorm with Sophia curled up against me. We’d spent nearly every night together at my place since she returned from Hawaii last month. Alyssa had accused me of stealing her roommate and I wasn’t in the least bit remorseful about having done just that. She was in her own romantic bliss with Abena these days anyway.
Sophia looked around the party, surveying it cautiously. “Okay, I probably don’t need to be here too long, right?”
“Hawaii, I am not the expert on exposure therapy. What did your mom say?” I asked.
Sophia and her mom had talked a few times about the incident from last semester and the only lingering fear Sophia had was drinking in public again, which frankly, wasn’t avoidable forever. Laura had suggested that Soph slowly ease her way back into it, so here we were, doing whatever she felt comfortable with before hopefully getting the fuck out of here so we could curl up together with a movie.
“She said just making it through the door counts for the first time, but I want to do more than that,” Sophia said, taking my hand and pulling me toward a keg and cooler at the end of the counter. As we got closer, I confirmed it was Reynolds having salt licked off his chest by three different women.
“Of course you do. My girl is an overachiever,” I teased, pinching her ass.
She stopped in front of the cooler and stared at it apprehensively. I bent down and fished out a seltzer and held it up. “You want to drink this?”
She nodded and swallowed audibly. “Yep.”
“Okay,” I said, tipping the can so she could see the sealed top. “Take a look at it. Closed.” I popped it open in front of her and held it out.
She took it from me and slowly took a sip before looking at the top of the can and frowning. “I just don’t know how he could have slipped it in.”
I took a deep breath and suppressed the rage I felt toward Harley and Devon at her apprehension. I wished I’d punched Harley multiple times that night instead of just the once. “He probably did it while youwere talking to someone else or playing beer pong. But I tell you what, we can talk to anyone you want tonight, and I’ll be watching that drink the entire time.”
“Okay,” she said, looking around. “There’s Alyssa and Abena.”
I waved my hand in a sweeping motion toward them. “After you, Hawaii.”
Sophia gripped her can firmly and started walking in their direction.
“Well, there you are! Haven’t seen you in days,” Alyssa said, pulling Sophia into a hug and shooting me a look.
I smirked and shrugged.See, no remorse.
I watched Sophia’s drink as they fell into conversation, while she played a quick round of beer pong, and while we chatted with a few of the guys from my team. I watched her and her drink until it was gone. I was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one getting some much-needed exposure therapy because I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to leave her alone in a place like this again.
As soon as she finished her drink, she looked at me proudly. “I want to go now.”
“You sure?” I asked. I would have left the second we arrived, but I’d also stay here as long as she needed.
“I got the exposure I needed, but what I really want is to go home and watchModern Familywith you,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
My heart skipped a beat. She’d just called my dormhome, a word that I knew held such significance to her. But rather than say anything and ruin it, I took her hand in mine and brought her home.
The Exposure Effect
It’s March! Do youknow what that means? Apparently, it’s finally the end of hockey season. Not for our boys though, because they’re going to the playoffs! There’s only one more regular season game and it’s a home game, so if you’ve been following along and planning to come, tomorrow’s your last chance.
By now I’m sure you’re used to my random information, so I trust you’ll stick with me on this one. Did you know there is a psychological phenomenon called the mere exposure effect? Basically, the more we’re exposed to something, the more we like it. Take music, for instance. You hear a song once on the radio and you’re not into it. But then you hear it again. And again. Eventually, you start to think the song’s not as bad as you thought. Then you hear it a few more times. Before long, you actuallylikethe song. You don’t change the station when it comes on, you sing along, and you might even listen for it when you scan radio stations. That’s because of your exposure.
I’ve been exposed to a lot of hockey this season. Like,a lotof hockey. So, is the mere exposure effect why I like the sport? Is hockey actually anentertaining sport where smart, talented men work together to achieve a common goal? Or have I just been exposed to it so much that I’ve tricked my brain into liking it? And what happens when I go back to Hawaii and I’m no longer exposed to hockey (literally at all)? Will I still like it? Does the mere exposure effect work in reverse, and I’ll slowly lose interest?
These are the questions that keep me up late at night. But regardless of how I’ll feel when the season’s over, right now I like hockey an awful lot. That’s right, as readers, you must have noticed the shift in my excitement with each game covered. And of course, I’m aware that most of you know I’m not even remotely objective anymore. So, tomorrow night, I’ll be cheering loudly for our team captain and wearing the number twelve proudly on my back. Exposure alone or a true love of the game, either way, I certainly love our captain.
Chapter Forty
