I don’t actually have time to indulge in anything I shouldn’t, because by the time we return from our shopping trip, it’s already noon and guests will be arriving in two hours, which means Charlene and I have enough time to make rainbow Jell-O shooters but not much else.
Shots are always a bad idea, and yet we make these every single time we have a party. It’s dumb. But there you go. While we mix Jell-O and vodka, Charlene flashes team faces at me. After the third time through, I manage to get all but a few names right. I’m pretty decent at memorization, and I’ll at least be able to retain the information until I’m drunk, so I’m feeling a little better about things. Also, Charlene and I started drinking mimosas, so that helps, too.
As I’m going through them one last time, Charlene bends down and retrieves a card from the floor. “I must’ve dropped this one.”
She tosses it my way and I glance at the name and number. “Ethan Kase, forward, number forty-four.” I flip the card over and am met with some stellar hotness. “Holy shit, check this guy out.” I hold up the card facing Charlene.
“Oh yeah, he’s not hard to look at, is he? And those eyes, my God, I bet panties drop as soon as he walks in the room.”
“I wonder if he wears contacts.”
“What’re you girls talking about?” Alex comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist.
“How pretty this guy’s eyes are.”
Alex grabs the card from me and frowns. “Why do you have a picture of Ethan Kase?”
“I made team flash cards so Violet can put faces to names since we’re usually looking at the back of a jersey,” Charlene says.
“Huh, I guess that’s a good idea. But Ethan isn’t playing for Chicago anymore. He just got signed by Minnesota.”
“So he’s not coming then?” Charlene asks.
“No, he is. He’s saying goodbye before he takes off.”
“But wouldn’t it be weird for him—” Charlene starts.
“Is this his real eye color?” I ask, interrupting their conversation with more important questions.
Alex shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t spend much time staring into my teammates eyes. Why?”
“They’re pretty, that’s all.” I take the card and shuffle it back into the deck.
The doorbell rings, and Alex steps away from me. “I’ll get it.” He pats me on the butt and grumbles something about his eyes being pretty too as he rushes to get the door.
“I think someone’s jealous,” Charlene whispers.
“Because I think some guy’s eyes are pretty?” I roll my eyes. “Alex has a pretty dick, especially when it’s dressed up like a superhero, and that’s way better than having pretty eyes.”
We both snicker and go back to making rainbow Jell-O shooters.
As promised, he’s totally on top of things, with the planning and the taking care of everything, including me. I’m still nervous about embarrassing myself somehow today in front of all of his teammates. It’s not as if I haven’t done it before, but I would prefer not to have it happen every time we have some kind of party. A significant percentage of them have seen my bra, or heard me in the midst of an orgasm.
The new guys have only heard the stories—they don’t have the memories—so it would be great if I could avoid doing something that will tarnish my already less-than-stellar reputation in their eyes.
I’m relieved that the first people to arrive are our friends. Sunny and Miller and Lily and Randy are followed by Lance and Poppy. Darren is somewhere around here. He floats in and out of the kitchen like a specter, pausing to whisper something to Charlene before he ghosts out again and does whatever Darren does. Presumably he’s helping Alex set up.
Once the rest of my girl gang arrives, I feel a lot better. They’re like a human safety net. They protect me from my own stupidity, or at least they try to. I wonder if they have a dog for that, kind of like a personal support dog, but this one would be a personal stupidity dog, to keep me from doing stupid things. I should look into it.
A few hours into the party everything seems to be going smoothly. I’ve done pretty well with remembering the players’ names, so the flash cards can be considered a success.
Alex has set up a Ping-Pong table in the backyard and people are hanging out in the pool playing volleyball. Since the only balls I like to handle are Alex’s, I sit on the sidelines and nurse mojitos with Charlene. Okay, maybe nurse is the wrong word. I’m on my third. I blame it on how hot it is and how delicious they are.
I survey the pool as Charlene and I take a seat at the edge so we can dip our feet in the water but stay out of the action. “You know, maybe I don’t mind these team parties.”
“I told you it wouldn’t be like last time.”
“And the view sure isn’t bad. I mean, just look at that.” I motion to the back of the guy launching himself into the air, water sluicing over his flexing muscles as he slaps the ball over the net. “It’s the best back porn ever.”
“Right?” Charlene nods her agreement while chewing on her straw. “So many nice bodies to ogle.”
I clink my tumbler against Char’s. “Amen to that, sister.”
Poppy drops down beside me. She’s wearing a huge hat and a pale green beach cover-up. Poor thing burns in minutes, especially on a day like today. “Enjoying the view?” she asks with a cheeky smile.
“Immensely.” I take another sip of my drink, but end up slurping loudly. “Hmm. That went down a lot faster than I expected.” I shake my empty tumbler, making the ice cubes rattle inside. “I should probably have a spacer before I refill, eh?”
“What is it?” Poppy asks.
“A mojito.”
“Oh! I had one of those. They’re pretty strong. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” Poppy offers. She’s so freaking sweet.
“I need to use the bathroom anyway. Either of you want a bottle of water?”
Both Poppy and Charlene say yes. I feel pretty good about being responsible and not getting super shitfaced this early in the day. As I stand up, I realize I may actually be a little drunker than I originally thought, based on the way I wobble.
“You okay?” Poppy asks.
“Oh, yeah. You know me, walking in a straight line is tough on a good day, let alone when I’ve had a couple of mojitos.”
Charlene snorts and gives me one of her half-drunk smiles. “Truth.”
“Watch out!” someone yells, startling the three of us.
I look up in time to see a volleyball coming at me.
Now here’s the thing about me. I’m a lot of things, but adept at catching things being thrown at me, on purpose or not, is not my strong suit. My first inclination is always to run away or duck. Except in this case I’m standing at the edge of the pool, so instead of being smart and taking a step back, I take a step forward.
The volleyball slams right into my boob as I tumble into the water. I shout my surprise and pain, because a hard ball to the tit hurts like hell, and I end up sucking in water.
A pair of hands settle on my waist and I’m pulled to the surface, sputtering and coughing. I grab on to a set of thick shoulders while I hack up half a lung.