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“He had to put one of the rookies to bed. He got a little excited with the Jell-O shots. Fucking lightweight.” Mason snorted.
“Hey, we’ve all been there,” Connor said, wrapping his arm around Ella’s waist. “If I remember correctly, you almost pissed yourself freshman year after one too many drinks at TPB.”
Everyone exploded with laughter except Mason, who scowled. If looks could kill, Connor would have been six feet under.
“I hope you know what kind of guy you’re with, El,” he added. “One who can’t keep a fucking secret.”
“Mase, baby, I’m joking. It’s a joke.”
Except, it wasn’t, and that did happen. I’d heard the story last year straight from the horse’s mouth.
“Okay, children,” Austin said, “are we going to drink or stand around bitchin’ all night.”
My eyes clashed with Aurora’s as she watched everyone raise their cups in the air. She had a bottle of water in her hand, but her eyes went to the vodka on the counter.
“Want something a little stronger, shortcake?”
Everyone looked at her, and her cheeks flushed that adorable shade of pink. “Fine,” she said. “One drink won’t hurt.”
We all cheered as Connor made her a vodka orange and handed her the cup. “Welcome to Lakeshore U, little Hart. May your days be educational. Your nights be full of excitement. And your weekends, all about hockey.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Austin said. “Rory?”
She stepped forward and brought the cup to her lips, sniffing the contents. Her nose crinkled adorably as she shrugged. “What the hell, to Lakeshore U.”
CHAPTER 11
AURORA
It was a bad idea.
Drinking.
Letting the guys talk me into shots.
But the truth was, I’d needed something to take the edge of the nerves jittering inside me as I stood wedged between Dayna and Ella, trying my best to hide in the shadows.
The Goldilocks costume was outrageous. It clung to every dip and curve and roll. Despite how uncomfortable I felt in the damn thing, I couldn’t deny it did make my boobs look great. As for the rest of me, it was… a lot.
I wasn’t used to wearing something so form-fitting. I didn’t feel liberated. Not one bit. I felt on display. And not in a good way. It was like walking around with a neon sign above my head flashing, ‘look at me, judge me.’
At least Noah had a point; in the blonde wig, I didn’t feel like myself. But it hadn’t quite given me the burst of confidence I’d hoped for. All I could think about was how the flared skirt highlighted my wide hips and how the corset top creased at the back of my arms. I didn’t dress up like this for a reason. Because drawing attention to my figure made me obsess about it. Made me fixate on trying to deconstruct what other people saw when they looked at me. Did they notice my hips? My ass? The way my thighs rubbed together under the dress? Or did they only see my boobs, which were far too disproportionate for my frame?
The vodka helped, though, making everything a little hazy.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Ella called over the music.
We’d moved into the living room, if you could call it that. It was a huge space littered with couches and a big television mounted onto the wall. The furniture had been pushed aside to create a dancefloor full of girls dressed in sexy costumes vying for the guys’ attention.
The team’s stupid puck bunny scale kept popping into my head. I could easily pick out the Jessica Rabbits, but there wasn’t a chubby bunny in sight. Except me. Everyone was beautiful. So beautiful that the longer I stood there, the more I was convinced I stood out like a sore thumb.
“Aurora?” Ella touched my arm.
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you wanted to dance.”
“Oh, no, thank you.” I tugged at the hem of the dress, trying to add a couple of inches to the skirt. “You two should go, though.”
