four

They quizzed me on Jordan and our date and I told them everything except the NHL part.  It would sound impressive, or so they would assume, and I wasn’t about to say the six million dollar word to anyone when Jordan hadn’t even told me himself.  IPhones would be consulted and with my luck, Darcy would introduce herself by saying he owed her money for beer.  More people started arriving - friends, their friends, significant others I hadn’t met.  A five after nine there was already twelve people in my living room and the doorbell was ringing again.

“Hi,” Jordan said as I swung the door open.

Gulp.  “Hi!  Welcome to your housewarming!”  Like a little girl who finds a surprise, I threw my arms around his neck.  He wore another v-neck shirt, this one in heather gray, and dark jeans with sneakers.  his hair was very carefully pushed into a little faux-hawked kind of mess.  The case of beer in his arms was between us, but I didn’t care.

“Out of the way,” Taylor pushed Jordan into me and we fell into the wall.  Hall bowled right up the stairs.  Behind him was a sharp-featured brunette kid wearing a big smile.

“You must be Ryan,” I took the bag of snacks from his hand.

“You must be Erin,” he took the bag back, thanked me for inviting him, and followed Taylor up the steps, leaving me and Jordan in the tiny entry space.

“Hi,” he said again.

“Hi Jordan.”  I smiled at him again but it wouldn’t come out right.  My bottom lip flattened between my teeth, kind of a half-smile.  Jordan didn’t do halves, I got the full gap-toothed grin until it faded.

“You looked me up,” he said.  “Guess I have some explaining to do.”  His brows came together and his forehead creased - another very grown-up look on that boyish face.  I couldn’t make him feel bad for not telling me.  I’d been on dates with guys who had far less to hide and didn’t tell me anything.  I decided Jordan had done at least part of the best that he could.

“Later,” I said, and kissed him on the lips.  It rooted me to the floor.  It wasn’t until he pulled away that my ropes were cut and my knees wobbled. I put a hand to his strong chest.

“Later.  I promise,” he said.

I led the way into the kitchen, Jordan on my heels and his kiss on my lips.  Taylor was already chatting with a half-circle of adoring females, though he had one arm around Ryan's neck in a bro pose.  Ryan looked like he'd ended up with the seniors on his first day of freshman year.  We fixed drinks and Jordan made himself useful, opening more snacks.  People kept  arriving.  I carefully watched everyone's faces but no one recognized the guys.  It was easy to ignore the truth I knew about them and act like they were just normal guys.  Well maybe not Taylor, holding court like the prom king.

Jordan had no trouble making friends - of course not, he was adorable.  Most of the girls and enough of the boys gave him the eye that I resolved to mark my territory and kiss him in the middle of the living room.  But the next time he came by, Jordan was carrying a few empty beer bottles.

"Recycling?" he asked.

"You don't have to do that!" I said.  Jordan did it anyway.
____

I was surprised to feel a little out of place at Erin's party.  It had been a long time since I was a complete stranger to everyone in a room.  At home, if I went to a party, people talked to me.  Sometimes it felt like an endless line of them wanted to meet the Jordan Eberle they saw on the ice.  Mostly they were cool but the conversations were always the same - hockey with the guys, hockey and getting hit on by the girls.

I smiled to myself.  I was going to miss those girls - not because I went for them, but because they were usually even more awkward than I was.

Here in Erin's house, she introduced me to a bunch of friendly people.  Only I was still awkward - which is why I set myself to helping with hostess duties like chips and empties.  If I wanted to fit in, I'd have to do the work.  Or hang out with Taylor.

"There he is! Did everyone meet Jordan?" Taylor asked the harem he was collecting in the kitchen.  If any of their boyfriends were here we might have to fight our way out... which meant Ryan and I would escape by the window.

Ryan looked happy to escape now.  We left Taylor to his fan club.

"Future Puckbunnies of America," I said when we were out of earshot.

"He's barely even mentioned the NHL, or anything," Ryan looked over his shoulder, clearly impressed.  "He's just... like that."

"Yeah, he's like that."  I knew Taylor had game, but OKC would test even him if we stayed long enough.  Ryan was barely nineteen.  He had no idea what he could pull in a Canadian bar.

We found Erin talking to two guys near a window.  I handed her a fresh beer and earned a smile, but that was it.  I may have gotten a kiss in the hallway but whatever she and I were was clearly staying between us tonight.  

"Jordan and Ryan, this is Chris and Billy.  They work with me."

"Erin tells us you play hockey," Billy, the bigger guy, said.  "We have it on sometimes in the bar.  We ever see you on TV?"

"Probably," I shrugged.  "You should come to a Barons game when we start.  I'm sure we can get tickets."

This guy was cool, but I could hear that hint of derision we often got from American guys who didn't watch hockey.  Like we could be lying a no one would even know.  Like it couldn’t be important if it was never on Sports Center.  But I knew we'd light it up with the Barons.  You wouldn't need to know hockey to see we were good at it.

"We're definitely coming," Erin said, and rubbed my arm for a moment.  Both guys saw the move and frowned.  

"Your boy in there's gonna sell out the stadium," Chris nodded toward Taylor's groupies as if his girlfriend might be among them.

Ryan, who had a quick wit people never expected, said, "He's hurt, so he'll need to keep warm in the stands."

Erin tactfully wrapped up the conversation and led us to another part of the room... where she burst out laughing.  "I'm going to like you," she told Ryan, who blushed. He was worse with girls than I was, with even less experience.  Erin though, she simply made herself his friend.  Plus she kept touching her soft hair, bracelets on her wrist tinkling, and smiling in a way that no guy on Earth could resist.  The curve-skimming outfit didn't help either.  I was surprised Ryan or I could manage to talk to her at all, but he was chatting and laughing.  I could tell he felt special because Erin had watched some of his videos online.  

"Do you like sports?" he asked.

"We’re all about footbal here.  Oklahoma State is the big college program, but I mostly follow NFL.  Either way, game days are big days to be a waitress."

"Is that your only job?"

Instantly, I wanted to smack him.  I hadn't asked Erin that because I didn't want to imply that being a waitress wasn't a good enough job.  Plenty of people did it. She knew how much money I stood to make - probably knew Taylor and Ryan's contracts too.  I didn't want her embarrassed.

But she just smiled and said, "For now."
____

This Ryan kid was killing it.  He had a sharp face like a cute little mouse and sharp smarts to go with it.  He hadn't backed down from Chris and Billy, though they were 25 and twice his weight.  Now he was asking the obvious question that Jordan had not.

"I graduated college at a bad time,” I explained.  “There were no jobs, so I started working at Wild Wings.  I still look, but I'm not starving while I wait."

The stages of relief were visible on Jordan's face - first I said college, then still looking.  I didn't intend to be a waitress my whole life but his reaction bugged me a little.  "I make more money than most of my friends do in offices.  And then they come and spend their money with me.  I like it too, it's fun."

Jordan gently put his hand on my lower back, a slightly more than friendly gesture.  "Who wouldn't want to have dinner with you?"

Ugh, I'm a sucker, I told myself. Then I leaned back into Jordan's hand and let his comment slide.

The party went late.  By the wee hours of the morning, Maroon 5 was playing and only a handful of people were left.  Taylor was on the couch, Amanda pinned against his side but leaning forward and talking to a few other people.  Darcy was trying to get a sleepy-looking Ryan to dance with her.  I stacked bowls in the sink and Jordan deposited some bottles next to the trash.

"Want to dance?" he asked, pressing himself against my back and putting his hands on either side to pen me in. He was a little drunk.  So was I.  It was late and dark and he was really warm.

"Maybe," I said.

Jordan's kiss was hot on my neck.  His hands closed on either side of my waist and held me there, between his body and the counter.  That languid, drowsy feeling doubled.

"Jordan." I kept my voice low.

"I should have told you about my contract," his mouth was close to my ear.  

"It is a little scary."

He let me turn to face him.  Those thick brows pulled close as he made a sorry face.  "Scares me too. And I might not get it."

"What do you mean?"

There in the kitchen, Jordan told me about the collective bargaining agreement and the lockout. I had to ask a few questions - you can't just kiss a girl like that then start talking business.  My brain needed to switch gears.  He was still standing pretty close, so it was a few minutes before I got the basics.

"If the players union takes a deal to rollback salaries, mine could get lowered."

"A lot?"

"Well," is smile said he knew exactly how modest and charming he was being, "any part of six million is a lot."

I let my head tip to one side and ran my finger along the skin at the v-neck of his shirt.  My doe-eyed look said I knew exactly how flirtatious I was being.  "You've got some swag, Eberle.  Anyone ever told you that?"

Bam, back to blushing like a virgin.

"Quite possibly no," he said.
____

Swag.  I could have died laughing.  Even kissing Erin's neck like that was a bold move.  Any of these guys could be her ex or or just feel like saying they killed a so-called hockey player with their bare hands.  She hadn’t touched me all night but I was little tipsy and a lot horny.  Luckily, Erin didn't seem to mind.  She put her hands on my chest - I flexed first, of course - and kissed me.  The press of her lips went right through my stomach like an elevator dropping, crash-landing in my lap.

I stepped her back against the counter and leaned against her.  One slender thigh slipped between mine and her arms twined around my neck.  Erin’s tongue glided across mine, sparking like fireworks.  I pushed in closer.

"Whooop!" Taylor shouted from the doorway.  I lurched back, letting go of her at the same time.  Erin didn't though.

"Jeez Jordan, he's not my dad!" she said, still holding me.

"Now listen here, son," Taylor faked the worst southern accent ever, "you mess with my princess and there ain't no bottom to the hole I'll dump your dead body in." Fake boot stomp.  "But that boy Taylor'a yours is mighty nice and he could take her out all-gentleman like.  So if you don't wanna be kissin' her then step aside."

I kissed Erin again immediately. "Your dad is not very nice."

"Oh, he's much scarier than that."

"Are you two gonna hump in the kitchen all night? 'Cause I was gonna get a cab but I'll take the bed if you're not using it." Taylor's enormous mouth yawned enormously.

I very much wanted to keep Erin pinned to this counter until the sun came up.  The bed, well... it was too soon for that.  Unless she suggested it now, in which case I'd race her there and definitely win.  Her laughter was not helping, shaking all her good parts against mine.  I must have looked strained because Taylor hooted.

"Don't torture the poor guy, Erin!  Come on, let me take him home.  He has practice tomorrow."  Taylor already had his phone in hand.  It looked like the place had cleared out while we were making out in the kitchen.

The smile faded from Erin's face as she looked at me evenly.  Then it came back a little, more shy, with dimples.  The words please and let me stay were on my tongue.  Erin briefly kissed them off and slid her hand into mine.  In the living room, Ryan was rubbing his hair tiredly and Taylor was looking out the window.

"Cab's here."

"Come see me tomorrow, I at the BDubs all day.  Football from eleven in the morning." She hugged Taylor goodbye.

"The BDubs?" He lifted her an inch off the floor.

"Yes, Hallsy," she sarcastically drew out the word, "we do nicknames too."

Ryan got a hug and followed Taylor to the door.  It was just me and Erin at the top of the steps.

"Thanks for the party," I said.  

"Sorry my dad interrupted us."  We were shy now, smiling at the floor and acting all weird.

"He's just looking out for you," I joked.

Erin's thumb slipped into my palm, rubbing a slow circle. Every hair on my body stood up against the current flowing between us.  "I think he's looking out for you," she said.

Then she kissed me and I forgot to care what she meant.

By the time I shut myself inside the taxi, my head was spinning.  It might have been the drinking and it was definitely the kissing.  Apparently it was all over my face.

"No sleep over?" Taylor asked from the far side.

"Leave him alone." Ryan always had to ride in the middle.  "She's awesome, Ebs."

"Yeah, he knows," Taylor answered for me.  "He's already in love with her."  I politely gave him the finger.  "I'm just saying.  Every time, Ebs." Taylor put his head against the window and pretended to - or really did - fall asleep.

Ryan rolled his eyes and said, "I like her."

I did too. Obviously.  But Buzzkill Hall knew exactly how to turn my head in the wrong - or he thought right - direction.  When we reached the hotel, most of my happy feelings about Erin had been pushed out by sad and angry feelings about Julia.

Yeah, Jordan and Julia.  Or Julie and Julia, as my teammates called us.  

Julia was my ex, in the serious way that no one ever called her my ‘ex-girlfriend.’  It was an unnecessarily painful word.  She was an ex like a big letter X drawn to mark the site of an explosion.

You would think that as a second-year player, I'd be too busy training and playing and getting swirlies from the older guys, but no.  The NHL had a lot of downtime when you took away school and visiting parents and worrying about making it to the big leagues.  Hockey had always been part of my life... now it was my life.  Suddenly I had free time.  And girls.

Taylor got down on me because he wasn't there when Julia and I started.  He thinks he could have stopped it before anything happened.  In a way, he did.

Julia and I met in 2010, before the Oilers didn't make the playoffs.  We hung out for a while but the quick end to the season, while expected, was still really disappointing.  I went home for the summer feeling sorry for myself.  In July, we started talking again.  A few times turned into all the time and when I got back to Edmonton is early September, we were already practically a couple.  Maybe that's why she stayed over that first night back in town, our first night together.

Taylor had been drafted over the summer and we were fast friends.  Julia was always around too, and they got along great.  He watched me fall completely in love with a girl who seemed perfect.

In February, Julia started acting weird.  I thought she wanted a big Valentine's Day gift because we were pretty serious and my rookie salary seemed like a fortune.  I went all out - dinner, overnight at a fancy hotel, a piece of jewelry.  While she was in the shower before dinner, her phone chimed.  To this day, I don’t know why I looked.  It was from Taylor.

I told you to stop. Last chance or I'm telling him.  He fucking loves you.  Get your shit together and be the person he thinks you are.

In the time it took to read three lines of text, I became everything I'd never been: jealous, self-righteous, disbelieving.  Not high school stuff, but weapons-grade angry.  I searched her phone for some explanation - a conversation or a joke.  All traces of Taylor except his contact and that one  message had been deleted.  When Julia came out of the bathroom five minutes later, all my fury turned to fear.

She wore just a towel - probably the hand towel from the way it strained across her breasts and flapped open far up her thigh. Dark blond hair hung heavily wet over one shoulder.  Her smile was full of thanks for the hotel room we were in, the gifts she knew would follow.

I'd never had that before.  Never had a girlfriend who was really almost a woman.  The freedom to do what I wanted and the money to pay for it were still pretty new.  I was serious, and I thought she was too.

Three lines tore that apart.

"What's this?"

Her eyes gave her away.  Lies sprang from her tongue, so many and so fast they confused themselves: it wasn't what it looked like, Taylor had been pursuing her, she'd run into an old boyfriend and Taylor got the wrong idea.  Finally I got up and walked out.  Left her standing there in a towel and went right  to Taylor's place.

"She told you," he said when he saw the look on my face.

"You told me," I spat.  "Or threatened to. I saw your text. How long were you going to wait?"

He slumped heavily against the back of the couch.  "It's only been three days."

"Since what?"

He pushed a hand around his face.  "She started calling me, texting.  Asking when we were going to hang out, just us."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"I thought she wanted my help with something, like a surprise for you for Valentine's Day!" He stood up suddenly, ready to defend.  "When I got to the place she was all dressed up, beingweird.  I tried to be cool but... she was hitting on me, okay?"

"What exactly does that mean?" I was balling my fists in time with the words, as if I might hit him. He'd mop the floor with me.

Taylor's face went from mad to sad in one crumple.  "She was like a puckbunny, man."

It was the worst thing he could have said.  The description was as accurate and vivid as a kick to the stomach.  The easiest of easy, begging for a fraction of you attention and a story to tell.  Some guys loved it - the path of least resistance.  To me, that equation made me feel like a zero.  If Julia had been like that, there was no mistaking her intentions.  And Taylor knew a
puckslut when he saw one.

"Nothing happened. I told her off and I left.  She started texting me - she was so sorry, please don't tell you.  I said fine, drop it.  But she wouldn't.  I...." he trailed off, clearly reluctant.

"WHAT."  Not a question.

"She said she thought we were good together and should try it for a while, you didn't have to know.  If it worked, we'd tell you when we were sure."

I stood there, mouth open.

"She would not stop, Jordan.  She started sending pictures. I told her I was going to show you if she didn't go along with your Valentine's Plan.  You did all that work - I thought she'd see how much you love her and stop fucking around.  Then tonight... she texted me again. You saw what I told her."

I held out my hand. "What was her text?"

Taylor covered his pocket. "No, Jordan. It's done.  Dump her and leave it."

"Give me the fucking phone, Hall."  I never spoke like that.  Not even on the ice to some good defenseman getting his elbows in my face.  Taylor new i was serious but he really didn't want to hand it over.  A sliver of me clung to the belief that he was protecting himself, that I would see incriminating evidence.  Then he gave me the phone.

Julia: Be thinking about you in the shower, and when I’m on my date tonight.  You don’t have to be missing out.

I scrolled up.  As if those words were not enough, I needed to touch the fire to make sure it burned.  I went all the way to the top and started reading.  Taylor walked to the far side of the living room and slumped in a recliner.  I stood at attention in the middle of the floor and took every single punch.

They seemed to start right after the ambush date.  An apology, then she started dropping hints.  They got louder.  By the end she was launching her come-ons like cruise missles.  There were two photos - one of her in a short dress that she’d worn out with me, taken in her bedroom mirror.  The next was Julia, laying in her bed, wearing a tight, low-cut camisole and some very small pajama shorts.  Not lingerie exactly, but her nipples were hard through the fabric and her bottoms had been rolled down to reveal flat stomach.

I closed my eyes.  Taylor got up and took the hone from my hand.

“I should’ve told you.  I wouldn’t do anything, Jordan.  But I thought she’d stop - I didn’t want to break you guys up if she was just scared or something.  I mean, it’s Julia.  She’s not like that!”  His voice was strained with honesty that I didn’t even need to hear.  I’d just found out I couldn’t trust one of the few people in my life.  I was not going to let Julia take Taylor down with her.

“Apparently she is like that.”  I went for the door.  “And I have a dinner reservation to cancel.”
____