Pucked Over (Pucked #3) (10 page)

“You need a haircut, bro,” Lance says on the way home from the gym, breaking me out of my pornish thoughts.

“There’s nothing wrong with my hair.”

“That man-bun bullshit has got to go. It looks like you’ve got a stubby Doberman tail hanging off the back of your head.”

I laugh. “The ladies like it.”

“Yeah, well, you look like a douche.”

On that helpful note, Lance drops me off at my place so I can get ready. He’ll swing back around and pick me up tonight since I’m on the way to Waters’. It’s not a formal event, but we’re supposed to look decent, what with the whole thing being a catered dinner. I put on my favorite Lily-decorated underwear and cover them with black pants and a dress shirt. I’m not dealing with a tie tonight if it’s not mandatory, but I pocket one just in case.

By six-thirty Lance still hasn’t arrived. He’s much like Miller in this regard, so I’m used to him being late, but tonight I’d like to be on time. Or at least close to on time. I sit on my front porch and drum on the arm of the chair. I’ve already sent him a couple of messages. He assures me he’s on his way, and that Tash is the hold up. I don’t see how that’s possible, as Tash is about as low maintenance as a chick can get. I’ve never seen her in anything other than athletic gear and a ponytail.

It’s another fifteen minutes before they finally get here. Lance is driving his Hummer. It’s lime green. He likes to make a statement. Tash gets out of the passenger side, and for a second I don’t recognize her. She’s in this slinky black dress—not slutty, just fitted. It hugs all the incredible curves of her very toned, very fit body. Her hair is wavy and loose. And she’s wearing makeup.

“Holy shit.”

She flips me the bird. “Keep your opinions to yourself.” She adjusts her dress and touches her hair. “You can take the front seat. There’s more leg room.”

I shake my head. “No way. You stay put. There’s lots of room in the back of this asshole ride.”

I hold out my hand, offering to help her back up. She’s wearing heels. I’m not sure it’s something she does all that often based on the way she grips my arm.

“You’re smokin’, Tash.” I pat her hand.

She gives me the evil eye; then a hint of a smile appears. “Thanks, Randy.”

“You better watch yourself tonight, girl. You’re gonna need all those ninja fighting skills to keep the guys off you.”

“Get in the damn car, Balls. We’re already late,” Lance calls.

“Calm your tits, bro. That’s not my fault.”

“It’s not mine either,” Tash says.

There’s something in her tone and the way she looks at Lance. A while back Miller asked if I thought something was going on between them. Now I’m starting to wonder if he was on to something. Lance is giving her the eye—and not the angry eye, but the fuck eye.

I get into the backseat and slide to the middle so I can stick my head between them and be a dick. “So whose fault is it that we’re so late?”

Tash looks at Lance, a coy smile pulling at her lips.

He keeps his eyes on the road. “Tash had wardrobe issues.”

“If you say so,” she flips the visor down and checks her makeup.

It takes thirty-five minutes to get from my place to Waters’. The driveway is packed with cars, and there’s some dude in a suit directing us down the street. Lance lets us out and then parks the car so Tash doesn’t have to walk a long way in her heels.

I give her a sidelong glance. She does that fidgety thing girls do when they know you’re looking at them and they’re self-conscious about it.

“What?” she asks.

I shrug. “Nothing. You a little antsy tonight or something?”

“No. I’m fine.” She adjusts her dress again.

She’s been the team trainer for about two years now, according to Miller. I’ve only been in Chicago for a few months, so I don’t know her all that well. She’s good at her job, she pushes us hard, and she’s fun to hang out with, but tonight she seems off.

“You wanna wait for Lance or head inside?”

“He knows where we’ll be. Let’s go.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and starts up the driveway.

Waitstaff greet us at the door with cocktails. We each take one and survey the house. It’s full of people, but I can see from the front foyer all the way to the open sliding doors at the back. They lead right into the backyard, which is also packed.

“Holy hell, Waters knows how to throw a party.” Tash takes a sip of her drink. “Don’t let me have too many of these; I’m liable to get up on a table and do a striptease.”

“I don’t think you’d get too many complaints about that. Except maybe from that one over there.” I point to a little old lady sitting on the couch, holding a wine glass with two hands.

“Oh, God. There are grandparents here. I hope the team doesn’t do anything to embarrass Violet.”

I snort. “Pretty sure she can do that all on her own.”

Violet is a riot. She’s probably worse than most of the guys on the team with the stuff that comes out of her mouth. I’m not sure if she’s a nervous person or half-crazy, but she’s entertaining to be around.

As if she hears us talking about her, Violet comes traipsing through the crowd. She’s all curves with a tiny waist. She’s wearing a red dress. It’s one of those wrappy things, so there’s a lot of cleavage. Violet’s got a huge rack, especially on a body as small as hers. It’s hard not to stare.

“Tash!” she yells and waves. There’s a slight weave in her step. When she sees me, she gets the look on her face she always does. I stuff my hands in my pockets and suppress a grin. I already know what’s coming.

Violet can’t deal with my name. Miller shortens my last name to Balls—it’s kind of an inside joke, which he’s not allowed to share with anyone or I’ll kill him—and her whacked-out brain changed it into something dirty. Although, I guess given my reputation with women, it’s not all that far out there.

Violet stops about three feet away from us. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. The empty glass she’s holding shakes. After a few more seconds she opens her eyes and smiles. “Hi, Randy,” she says through clenched teeth.

“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” Usually there’s some thrusting action that accompanies the articulation of my name.

“You have no idea. It’s guaranteed I’m going to say something embarrassing tonight. So far I’ve only accidently referenced Alex’s dick once.”

“Oh, God,” Tash stifles a laugh.

Violet holds up a reassuring hand. “It’s okay. I don’t think my grandmother caught it; she’s not wearing her hearing aids. I’m keeping everything crossed that I can control my mouth for the rest of the night, but it’s not my strong suit.” One of the waiters comes by to take her empty glass. Violet takes a new drink from his tray and holds up a finger so he doesn’t leave. She gulps it down in one swallow, hands the glass back, and reaches for another.

“Violet, baby, there you are.” Alex comes up behind her and snatches the glass away before she can get it to her lips. “Here. You should try this instead.” He folds her hand around the new glass and acknowledges us. “Hey, guys. Glad you could make it. Natasha, you look stunning.”

“Ooooh! What’s this?” Violet holds out the champagne flute. The concoction is pink, with little berries floating in it. A toothpick threaded with candies lies across the top.

“Charlene said you’d love it.”

Violet takes a sip and smacks her lips. She’s definitely drunk. Tonight should be interesting. “This is awesome. You’re the best, baby.” She runs a hand down his chest.

Alex catches it before it can go too low. “Anything for you, gorgeous.”

She leans into him and clutches his shirt, pulling him down. He gives us an apologetic look, and that’s before she says, louder than she probably means to, “Tonight I’m gonna ride your dick like we’re at the Calgary Stampede.”

“Shh,” he mutters. “We can talk about that later.”

“Right. Shh!” She puts her finger to her lips. “Speaking of riding things…” She lets go of Alex’s shirt and points at me. “You might want to find Lily. She is a hot tamale tonight. If I wasn’t marrying this sexy piece of ass, and I didn’t love his monster cock as much as I do, I might be interested in her. Except she’s a girl. So I’m not. But there are a bunch of horny guys who are.” She turns to Alex and cringes. “That was too far, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, baby.” He nods. “You saw the line and bulldozed right over it.”

“I told you this party wasn’t a good idea. We need to elope.” She guzzles the rest of her drink. “I need another one of these.”

“Let me take care of that for you.” Alex takes the glass and puts an arm around her. “I’ll catch you guys in a bit. Make yourself at home.” He steers her away as she grabs his ass.

Tash and I look at each other. “I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting night.”

“You can say that again,” Tash agrees.

Lance is still missing, so we make our way through the crowd. I’m on a mission to find Lily, especially after Violet’s report. Though she’s drunk, so she might be exaggerating. I don’t see Lily anywhere inside, so I shoot her a text telling her I’m here and ask for a location.

As Tash and I step out onto the deck in the backyard, her heel catches between two boards. I catch her before she can go down.

“Oh, crap! These shoes were a stupid idea.”

“You’re fine. I got you.”

She puts a hand on my shoulder and twists around so she can see what’s keeping her locked to the deck.

“Damn it. It’s really stuck!” She jerks her foot a couple of times.

“Let me see if I can get it.”

Just as I bend down, I spot Lily. She’s wearing a little blue dress, her lean legs on display. It reminds me of her figure skating outfits. It’s light and flowy, covering everything and not enough at the same time. And fucking Kirk is talking to her. He’s a dog.

I hold onto Tash’s ankle and tug. Her heel slips free, and her elbow comes up fast. I don’t have enough time to react. She connects with my nose.

“Ah, fuck!” I grunt and fold forward.

“Oh, shit!” Off balance from the unexpected freedom, Tash stumbles into me, her drink splashing on my shoe.

I’d like to care, but my face is throbbing, and my eyes are watering, so the drink isn’t nearly the issue it would be otherwise.

“Are you okay?” Tash takes my glass and sets it on the deck.

I’m surprised I was still holding it. All I can do is make a groaning sound.

“Do you have words?” She takes my face in her hands. “Randy?”

This time more than noise comes out. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I straighten and try to shake it off. “I’m dying.”

She laughs, but man, an uppercut to the nose hurts.

“Hey, guys—” Lance’s voice permeates the haze of pain. I turn to look at him, processing his confusion as it turns quickly to anger, which he aims at Tash. “The fuck is going on?”

All of the sudden it’s quiet on the deck.

Tash rolls her eyes. “Calm yourself, Lance.”

He points a hand in my direction. “Why are you all up on Ballistic?”

“I banged him.”

Lance seems more upset by this revelation than necessary. “You what? When?”

“Like two seconds ago,” Tash replies.

“How’s that possible?” He looks from me to her. “You make a pit stop in a bathroom before you came out here?”

“What?” Tash looks confused.

“Huh?” All I want is to lie down with an icepack on my face. These people are crazy.

“You’re a real piece of work, Tash. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you jumping someone.”

Tash’s eyes go wide, and her mouth drops. Her hand rises in smack mode.

I get in front of her before she can follow through with the bitch slap, which Lance may actually deserve. “That’s not what she meant by banged,” I tell him. “She elbowed me in the nose, by accident.”

“What?” Lance grabs the back of his neck.

Tash shakes her head. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

She pushes past him and goes back inside.

“Fuck. Shit. Tash, wait.” He goes after her.

Well, I guess Miller called it. There’s definitely something going on there. Or was.

What’s Up with Bathrooms?

LILY

This creepy dude named Kirk won’t leave me alone. I don’t know where Sunny went. Or Miller. I scan the crowd again as he goes on and on about how amazing he is. He’s old, or older anyway. He’s got a few gray hairs at his temples and some creases around his eyes. I think he might be balding, but I can’t be sure because I’m a lot shorter than he is. I’d put him in his mid-thirties. But he’s not wearing a wedding ring, so I could be wrong about that, too.

Right about now I’d glom onto Momma Two if it meant I could lose this guy. Commotion on the deck pulls my already divided attention away from his monologue. Randy’s standing outside the French doors. Oh, God. He looks so, so good. He’s wearing black pants and a dark button-down shirt. It’s blue—almost the same color as my dress. We match, and we didn’t even plan it.

Then there’s this tall, incredibly built, very pretty woman with her hands on his face. She looks concerned. He looks—other than hot—intense. His hand is on her shoulder, and they’re close-talking.

I get that feeling—the same one I get when I make a mistake in competition. My whole body heats up and cools down at the same time. My stomach knots.

“I’m sorry.” I turn to Kirk, who’s still talking. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

I don’t wait for his response. I turn toward the house. Fortunately, I don’t have to pass Randy on the way inside since there’s another door. I enter through the kitchen and run into Sunny.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” she exclaims.

Miller’s leaning against the counter, stuffing appetizers into his mouth. He’s got a satisfied look on his face. I bet they disappeared somewhere to get it on. They’ve been doing that all day.

“Isn’t Randy here yet?” Miller pulls his phone from his back pocket and checks his messages. “Says he got here, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but he’s with some girl.” I try to sound like it doesn’t matter, even though it feels like someone kicked me in the magic marble.