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I laugh, cupping his shoulder. “We know you can, big guy.”
“You need to slow down,” Trent says to me, attempting to rip the bottle from my hand.
I pull back and stop dead in my tracks. “What’s your problem?”
He stands in front of me, his face stoic, holding his ground. “Our first game back is next weekend.”
“Yeah, I know. Chill out. You think because I’ve been hanging out with Romeo that I won’t be ready? I was born ready, bro. Stop worrying about me.”
“Tuck, we’re just trying to look out for you,” Drake interrupts.
I glare at him. “Oh, fuck, not you, too. Like I haven’t heard enough shit from Parker this week.”
“You’ve been drinking more than normal,” Drake adds. “We don’t want to see it become a regular thing. You know how Parker is about drinking… because of his dad.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know.”
Alex Parker, Preston’s dad, almost threw away his professional hockey career over booze and women. He went on a major bender after his dad lost his battle with cancer, and it wasn’t until Coach, Preston’s mom, came into his life that he turned his life around. Preston comes from a family of addicts. His grandparents on his mother’s side are both dead from overdoses, which landed his mom in foster care along with Jamie’s dad.
And then there’s Uncle Jameson, who is literally named after Jameson Irish whiskey. Both of his parents were alcoholics. Drake’s grandfather was an alcoholic and extremely abusive to his dad. My parents are the only ones out of our group of friends who didn’t battle with some kind of addiction or having a shitty upbringing.
But that’s not to say my parents didn’t have their own hardships. My grandfather lost all of his money not long after my mom met my dad, forcing my mom to scramble to make Sports Buzz, her online newspaper, successful on her own. Then, there’s my half-brother, Blake, who my dad gave up for adoption right out of high school, all because my grandfather wanted my dad to put his NHL career before a family.
So, it’s not like the roads our parents traveled before us were easy. Which makes me feel guilty and like a spoiled brat. They’re right. I do need to get my shit together.
We’re almost to Gio’s when I break the silence between us. “I’ll stop,” I promise. “But don’t give me shit if I want to party.”
“If we don’t have practice or a game the next day…” Drake says, “… then do whatever you want. Just make sure your game is on point and your head is in check.”
“Yes, Daddy Donovan,” I joke.
He laughs, and then punches me in the arm hard enough to knock me off balance.
We’re back to normal. Pretty soon, I will be, too.
Thirteen
Jemma
Riley attracted the attention of a few guys on the football team, with both her beauty and her Southern drawl, and now, we’re playing two-man teams at air hockey. I have no idea how to play.
Sports have never been my thing, and my lack of athletic abilities shines through. The giant table spans a large portion of the left side of the game room in the Student Activity Center, what everyone on campus calls the SAC.
I’m paired with Oliver Fox, who everyone refers to as Ollie or QB, since he’s the star quarterback of the football team. He’s a wall of man, well over six feet tall, with big, strong shoulders and a thick and toned body. It’s hard not to stare at him as he moves with such grace. A guy like Ollie steals the show and has done so since we started the game.
Zoe stands next to Luke “Brax” Braxton, a tight end for the Strickland Senators, and by the looks of it, his backside matches his position. He pushes the puck down the board in our direction. But before I can make a move, Ollie leans forward, the round air hockey striker in his hand, and slaps the puck back to Luke, before it can land in front of me.
I’m horrible, and everyone knows it. A crowd surrounds us, the SAC bustling at this hour. They’re cheering for Ollie and Brax, who are putting on a show for the room. Zoe and I could disappear, and it wouldn’t matter, because the competition is between the men. We’re nothing more than arm candy standing at their sides.
The game ends with Ollie reaching for the puck, and me not fast enough to react as Brax scores the final goal.
“Damn it,” Ollie growls.
Brax holds up his hands and then drops the striker to the tabletop, a wicked grin on his handsome face. “Pay up,” he tells Ollie.
I have no idea what they wagered, but Ollie doesn’t look happy about it. His face scrunches in anger, though it doesn’t last long.
Zoe pushes her dark hair behind her ears and gives Brax a dreamy look. He doesn’t even notice her staring up at him, batting her eyelashes. I bet he has this effect on all women. Both of these guys probably do.
