~Beckham~

The non-stop ring of my phone annoys the fuck out of me but I consciously avoid it, as I sit there at the island table in the kitchen, writing the last few lines of my essay that requires submission tonight. Since, I’ll be happily partying away at Mason’s with my likes, early submission it is. My phone rings enough number of times to draw Jay into the kitchen from where he had been peacefully watching the rerun of Narcos- an episode we have watched over four times already. The obsession is real. 

“Man, you gonna pick that up or put it on silent?” he quips, dropping his ass across from me, with an arched, maddeningly perfect brow. I turn my phone over, screen down and continue to work on the conclusion that in reality has been taking me an hour and a half to come up with now. Now, by no means am I a poor student but when your phone won’t stop blaring, indicating a call from your father, it distracts a man. I’m busy and can’t take my phone but father does not seem to have a grasp on the concept. At least, that is what I am telling myself.

“Beck, dude.” I snap my eyes at him, waiting for him to say his piece but when he doesn’t, I focus on the words on my laptop screen blur from how hard I’m trying to centre my attention. Dempsey lets outs a loud sigh and exhaling loudly, I ask, “Just spit it out, Jay. I have work.”

“Your dad’s been calling me, man.” Of course, he has. 

“And you’re telling me this because?” I sound harsher than I intend to and at the moment I am unsure who’s getting on my nerves – Jay or my dad. 

Jay’s fingers are relentlessly tapping on the wooden surface of the island that is sitting smack in the middle of our modestly sized kitchen, his eyes drawn towards the movement like that is the most interesting thing at the moment. “Maybe, you should just talk and ask-”

“You know I can’t do that.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” Jay quizzes, narrowing his sharp hazel eyes at me in exasperation. When I remain mum, he continues, “Listen, if you just talk and ask your dad what he wants then maybe he’ll get out of your hair,” the sharply adds, “and mine.” That makes me guilty, because I put up with dad because I have to. Because he is my father. Jay – well, I think, I am more trouble to him than I am worth. 

“I’m sorry that dad bothers you, Jay. I swear. Block him or whatever,” I tell him, gathering my stuff, because yeah, that essay conclusion? Yeah, it’s just not happening. Going to upload whatever and hope for a B so that I can keep my place on the team. When I begin to walk out of the kitchen my best friend says, “And risk your dad turning up here or do something worse? Fuck no. I’d take how many ever of his calls if that means it gives you some peace of mind. We have each other’s backs. That’s what we do.” 

Looking at him over my shoulder, having no confidence to look him straight in the eye, I tilt my trembling chin. “Thanks, brother.”

When I step out and make my way through the hallway that leads me to my room, Jay calls, “This is no excuse to miss today’s party. You better be there, jerkface.” I only smile in response, fully aware that’s where I’ll be. 

Mason’s party is like every frat party multiplied ten times. More drinks, more guests, kickass food and just overall more fun. It might be the perfect opportunity for me to unwind, I decide and walk in with Jay because Seb abandoned us the first chance he got, right there at the lawn of the big brownstone. Mason’s the son of the town mayor, who happens to be out of town this weekend with his wife, hence giving him the chance to throw the beginning of semester party. We’ve had many across the eight weeks since college started, but none like this. 

This? It finally, truly feels like the semester has started. 

We are greeted with a hound of back thumps and slaps and soon enough we both have a red cup filled with beer that’s not from the keg. Fancy, I know. I am being engaged in conversations I am not interested in but one of us needs fend for our reputation and that is not going be Jay. We all have roles to play. He nods his pretty blond head and smile were need be while I let my mouth do all the work, until my eye catches something. Something I didn’t really think about until now. My eyes follow the hint of pink hair I know I saw, while our freshman forward, who I hope with fill in for me when the need arises yaps away to glory with no idea that I’ve drifted away from him, mentally. And then I see her, smiling almost stringently at something Jamie is saying to her in an animated manner. Images of refined skating flit past my mind, the effortless glide of her skates across firm ice.

Luca Ackerman with cool, pink hair. That’s who it is.

From nowhere Seb makes an appearance, brushing his shoulders with mine. “You checking Luca out, B?” Frowning, I shift my gaze unwillingly to Seb, his familiarity with Luca rubbing me in the wrong way. 

My defender best friend laughs at my reaction, whatever it is and says, “What? I met her at the foyer when they walked in together. Stop looking all wounded.”

That’s enough for me to snap out of whatever it is. “I’m am not looking wounded, asshole. Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just wondering how the hell you get familiar with people with the bat of an eye.” 

He has the audacity to snicker and teases, “You wanna hit that, B?” Rolling my eyes, I chug the now lukewarm beer, my sense finally registering that freshman forward is now occupied with Jay who doesn’t even bother hiding his disinterest. Would save me energy and time. “Well, you seem like you want to. You should go talk to her.” He flicks his gaze her way and informs me, “I know, I would. But you’re interested, so I am backing off.”

Lolling my head to the side, I tell Seb, “Dude, I know how to get laid. Chill.”

“We’ll talk when you do,” he challenges and saunters off with a swag that would be cringey on someone else, but somehow works for him. Apparently, God has no mercy on me today because right about that time, I see the one face that I had been hoping to avoid; tall, sexy, very, very blond Laura.

“Laura,” I greet, when she gets on her toes to press a kiss eerily close to my lips. Stepping back, I smile at her which I know is more of a grimace than anything. She returns it with a saccharine one of her own and that is how I know Laura is not over our break up yet and I’m using the word breakup very loosely here because Laura and I were never anything to begin with. She had been more of a puck bunny than anything and I might have hit her more than twice and in between that I don’t know how she had found the time to suddenly develop feelings for me. Or so she says, so, I’ll never know. 

“You still on a different ass every week?” she questions, joining me even when I hadn’t extended any invitation. The woman works that way and well, I am not a very assertive person.  I don’t answer that question because that is none of her business. She might make me sound like a manwhore, but I know what I am. I enjoy sex, but I don’t use women. It’s a mutual understanding. It’s more of a I want it, you want it. Let’s have fun kinda arrangement. 

I have never had a problem with any of my exes, the term used loosely again, therefore making this whole situation with Laura new and unnerving. I wish she would just stop because I know that the whole team wants a piece of her, as objectifying as that sounds. She knows it, but somehow feels it is necessary for me to take responsibility for the feelings that seems to have developed from nowhere. Or for her need to flaunt you like a trophy in true puck bunny fashion, my mind unhelpfully supplies. Laura tilts her body, resting one side of her hip against the island we are currently leaning on and says, “We can be so good together, B. Just imagine.” No, thank you, my mind screams this time. “I like you.” When I don’t answer, a dusting of pink colours her otherwise pale face and it’s not attraction or anything. It’s irritation.

“Are you here with another woman, Beckham?” 

I open my mouth to answer but someone beats me to it with voice that sounds husky, like honey on a tree bark and its filled with disguised mirth. Fuck, what even was that? “He is.” 

“I am?” A kiss is pressed to my cheek before I even get to see who my life saver is and my nose is filled with a natural, warm woody smell mixed in with some perfume that I know is expensive. My eyes catch that pink hair again and I snap my head her way so fast, I momentarily fear a whiplash. 

Her big brown eyes meet mine, a mischievous twinkle in it making me want to laugh before she directs her stare towards Laura and cocks a perfectly bushy brow. “You have a problem?” All Laura can do is gape at the very welcome intruder and huff before stomping away like an angry toddler and this time a chuckle bubbles out of my mouth. 

Peering back at the most unexpected but very much needed saviour, I whisper, “Thank you.” She’s dressed in a satin cami over her shorts, her black hair fading into a stunning pink, a shade that I absolutely don’t know the name of. It’s appealing but not unnecessarily eye-catching and I have a feeling that kinda, sorta describes the woman who’s standing next to me, who just helped me get rid of a stubborn ex. I don’t think she really heard me over the loud 80s rock music that thumping through the walls but when she nods her head, I know she did. Wiping my clammy hands as discreetly as possible against my jeans, I put my hand out. 

“Beckham Hayes.”

She takes it, her hand firm and large with long fingers much like my own. “Luca Ackerman.” There is no flirtatious smile, no lingering touches except for that first kiss she pressed against my cheek. One that she had done to prove a point. Nothing about her behaviour gives her away and that leaves me craving something out of her before my time with her runs out. Before I could have my turn at asking her a few questions, Jamie joins us and hands a solo cup to Luca with a ridiculous expression marring her face, almost as if she knows what’s going on from my end. To be honest, all that lured me towards the woman next to me is her seeing exceptional hockey skills, and maybe, just maybe that pink hair. “You met Beckham, I see,” she comments as she takes a sip of whatever drink that she has in her hand, without missing the chance to give me a sly glance over the rim of the cup. 

“He’s the Lions’ forward,” she adds, almost as if she’s marketing me to her roommate to which she only nods. What does this woman think I want with her pink haired friend? Luca sips on her own drink, all of that playfulness I’d seen just a minute ago completely gone, like I’d imagined all of it. The sparkle in her cognac eyes, the smile that teased the corner of her plump lips, the friendliness in her demeanour. All of it. Now all I see is her cloaked in some cold, unbreakable façade and it makes me wonder which one of them is her. But, she doesn’t want me to know that. I am not sure she wants anyone to know that. She doesn’t say a word. And maybe, she’s even unimpressed and that catches me off-guard. It’s been ages since I’ve met with an indifferent reaction like that.

The rest of the evening, my eyes begrudgingly follows her around. Treacherous eyes. Not that it’s too hard with her caramel skin and striking wavy hair that falls right below her collar bone. Then I belatedly notice it’s not just me. She’s got a vibe that’s drawing attention from men and women alike. She’s not fraternizing, not even in the company of someone like Jamie and Ellie, both of them who thrive in making quick, easy friendships. She just looks… so over it, her eyes not staying on a single person more than what can be considered a passing glance. 

Soon enough, like every other party, things take their own turn with me ending up with Seb and Jay on the back porch of Mason’s mansion where the infamous drinking games are taking place. Usually, I’d be buzzed enough to enjoy it but today, incessant calls from my father, the interaction with Laura, the whatever it was with Luca – it’s all putting me on an edge that I can’t quite cut loose. It’s unsettling, but I decide that I will not let any of these things that are unexplainable ruin my fun. We sit in a circle and the dreaded game of spin the bottle begins and I know it’s going to go to place I’d rather not go because Seb is the one initiating it. If there is one lesson that I have learnt in the past years, letting a party animal like Seb take over the reins of drinking games never ends well. But that doesn’t stop me from joining in, anyway.

About halfway through Jamie, Ellie and Luca join us. For someone who’s grumpy, the last thing I expected of her is to still be here, much less join us on a game like Truth or Dare. Her eyes are glossy, telling me that she’s buzzed but not enough to let out a smile that I swear will look stunning, painted on her lips. She’s wary, but that seems to be her constant state of being and I’m an idiot who can’t stop looking. Fuck, am I that addicted to hockey that just watching someone glide like they are one with the ice does it for me?

My thoughts are cut short when I watch Ellie get off her seat next to Luca to do body shots of Seb like it’s a usual event. We watch Ellie bottoms up the glass of tequila before licking a strip of salt across Seb’s well sculpted body beginning from his belly button and up his abs, pecs and décolletage. Effortlessly slipping her mouth across his mouth, biting into the lemon. The chemistry between the two of them sizzles in the air, almost robbing all of us of our breath. It makes me think about how impossible it is for them to not feel this kind of scorching heat between them. They enjoy the push and pull, but only until it snaps. Ellie’s eyes are trained on Seb’s as he lays on the wooden table, basically eye-fucking each other into oblivion. This happens, every single time and I’m fucking tired of their shit. I’m surprised they ended up in the bedroom only once. Thankfully, the short woman snaps out of it before they start popping babies and clears her throat, embarrassed before joining Jamie and Luca on the floor. Much like Jay, Seb and I, they are an unlikely trio. In fact, it almost appears as if she’s uncomfortable in their presence. I guess they are too much sunshine for her.

When my brunette friend with the most impressive pair of blue-green eyes I have seen plops down ungracefully, I ask, “Are you really not going to do anything about all that sexual tension with Ellie, dude? I’m so over the fuck me eyes you guys share at every party.”

A snort escapes his nose and Seb says, “The only one with fuck me eyes here is you.” When I stare his way, his eyes are fixed from across us. I know exactly who he is looking at and I curse my inability to be subtle in my curiosity and… attraction towards her.

I don’t respond to that in the fear that he might be right. 

When I said that playing games involving alcohol with Sebastian Torres will get me into trouble, I had meant it because now, I am gaping at him and his suggestion. There is no clue as to how I ended up here and why he’s the one suggesting the dare when it the bottle hadn’t even landed his way. 

I stare at my best friend who is at the moment very speedily making it to the former best friend category. Seb just dared me to make out with Luca. What are we in? Fucking middle school? The fucking asshole. I know why he’s doing this and I hope his dick falls off. 

Jay is biting his lower lip to keep that laugh he’s holding in from spilling out. Bastard is looking smug as shit and when I take a peek at her, she doesn’t look the least bit fazed. Instead, she’s meeting me eyes with… what is that? 

Question? Challenge? What the fuck is going on here?

Usually this wouldn’t be much of an issue. It’s just a kiss and she’s attractive as fuck. But somehow, this – I don’t know. It feels dangerous. 

Everybody begins to cheer but Ellie cuts across all of their booming voices and tells Luca, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Ackerman. This is dumb. Seb is dumb.” I agree. “It’s a dare for Matthews. I don’t understand why you should do this.” She glares at our friend and says, “She’s new to CNU. Stop being a dick and stop scaring her.”

Seb butts in, offering his own opinion. “Hey, it’s just a kiss. Becky boy here can just answer the truth if he doesn’t want to do it.” If I could strangle this man and get away with it, this man would be long dead, I swear. I pinch the bridge of my nose, getting ready to say something when I hear it. When I hear Luca.

She only casually shrugs. “I’m okay if he’s okay.”