Faking It with the Forward: Wittmore U Hockey

“Fuck, it’s crowded in here.”

Jefferson holds the two cups of beer, one, for him and the other I assume for whatever girl he’s planning on hooking up with tonight, over his head, trying to keep from spilling them on the floor. It works because he’s six-five and just to get through the room people have to give him space.

“Yeah, I think Reid made a video and put it on blast.” I eye the crowd. Every frat and sorority showed up, as well as the rest of the varsity athletes. The bigger the better is how I see it. More options for the end of the night.

“Ginna’s looking for you.”

“I saw her,” I say, lifting my own bottle of beer to my lips. As captain, and the guy responsible for my teammates getting to early skate on time, I get one drink and I’m trying to make it last. “She looks good.”

More than good. Ginna’s got this straight blonde hair, big eyes, and pouty lips. Everything she wears is for show, leaving little to the imagination. That’s what I like about her. She’s a no-nonsense puck bunny. No games. No mystique. No strings. She’s here for a good time and happy to provide it.

“If you can’t drink,” Jeff says, “you may as well get your dick wet, don’t you think?”

My best friend is the one that commiserated with me when I broke up with Shanna. He’s the one that told me I was making the right decision to throw our four year relationship out the window for my goals. He’s also the one that encouraged me to stop having a pity party and to get over my ex by sowing some oats. That was five months ago. It’s not an exaggeration to say I’ve planted an entire crop at this point.

 Holding up my bottle, I clink it to his red cup. “Go have fun. Just don’t make me drag your ass out of bed in the morning, okay?”

“Got it,” he says, leaving me to go push through the crowd toward the backyard where a volleyball game is in progress.

The Manor is the biggest house in Shotgun—formerly the foreperson of the mill’s home. Two stories, a big front porch and backyard. It’s been claimed as the hockey house for years now, passed down from one teammate to the next. I moved in sophomore year—and now that I’m a senior, this will be my last. Jeff, Reid, and Axel all live here, too.

Everything is riding on this season for me. The team, the tournament, and my future.

“There you are,” Ginna says, appearing out of the mass of people. Her arm snakes around my waist. This girl gets it. She knows what I need and how much I have to give, which isn’t much between hockey and school. Especially not with how much is on the line. “Thought maybe you took off.”

“Nah, just keeping tabs on everyone.” I grin down at her. Okay, fine. I grin down at her tits. “Making sure no one does anything stupid.”

“That’s right, I heard the news. Congratulations on being named captain.” Her reaction is genuine. My position is beneficial to both of us. She gets to fuck the leader of the team and I, well, I get to fuck her and anyone else I want. No obligation. My favorite kind of relationship. “Want to take a break from duty and go upstairs?”

The good thing about drinking less is my dick is always ready to go. “I think I can spare a few minutes before the guys get in too much trouble.”

She nudges me toward the stairs, but I hear my name called over the music. Jeff’s head pops above the rest. “Cap!” He waves me over. I’m about to tell him to talk to me after Ginna sucks me off, but he’s got a serious expression on his face.

“Give me a second.” I drop a kiss to her mouth, and she doesn’t miss the opportunity to swipe her tongue against mine.

“Don’t be long.”

I push through the crowd, an easy feat when you’re taller than most people in the room and outweigh them by fifty pounds. Outside I see a small circle of people and there’s a body on the ground under the volleyball net.

The red hair is a giveaway. Reid.

I’m not the first to get to him, a hot girl with curly long dark hair is already next to him. Her hair shields her face, and I don’t recognize her small frame. She’s wearing jeans and a black shirt revealing a wide strip of skin on her lower back. She leans over Reid, touching his forehead.

“Move,” I command, pushing everyone aside. I crowd next to the girl, my shoulder knocking into her, but I don’t give a shit. Reid is my responsibility. He’s on his back, his shirt long gone, but he’s awake, thank God—although I spot the glassy look in his eye. “I’ve got this under control.” I push the girl’s hands away.

“Do you? Because nothing about this seems under control,” she bites back. “Reid, how many fingers am I holding up?”

I know that voice. I do a double take.

Reid, even in his dazed state, says it first, “Twyler?”

“Yeah.” She wiggles her fingers in front of his face. “How many fingers, Wilder?”

“Holy shit,” his eyes dart to me then back to her, “you don’t look like…” he swallows, “…you.”

She sighs. “Well, it’s me.”

“But you never come to our parties.” Again, he looks to me like he needs help figuring this out, but I’m with him. Twyler, this Twyler, is a surprise.

“Dude.” She snaps in his face. “How many fingers?”

He squints. “Four.”

She exhales. “Good. Anything else hurt?” She’s still going through concussion protocol, tracking his eyes, feeling the back of his head for swelling. While she does all of this, I’m stunned speechless, trying to reconcile the girl next to me.

The very attractive, very much not like a younger brother, girl.

Reid sits up on his elbows. “I don’t have a concussion, Twy, I’m just drunk.”

“Of course, you are.” She looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowing at me. “A little help?”

I snap out of it, moving into action, helping Wilder off the ground. “Nothing to see,” I announce. “Everyone give him some air.”

The crowd thins once they realize nothing dramatic is going on. When he’s steady on his feet, I let go, and turn to her.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t recognize you.” Now that she’s standing, I give her a full once over. She isn’t dressed overtly sexy. Just that tight midriff-revealing shirt, and a pair of high-waisted jeans. For Christ’s sake, she’s still wearing sneakers, but there’s the hair, and her eyes… That’s the thing about the intern; she’s got these big, blue, innocent eyes and pouty lips, but it’s all lost in a permanent resting bitch face. But damn, who knew Twyler had a tight body under those hoodies? For a hot second, a bad idea forms in my mind before Coach Green’s lecture comes roaring back. Besides, she’s made it perfectly clear she’s not into guys.

I can respect that and check out her tits.

“Thanks for being so quick to get to him,” I add. “He turns into a real dumbass when he drinks.”

“No worries.” Her eyes never make contact with mine, instead hovering somewhere around my neck. “Just doing my job.”

“He’s right, though. You never come to our parties.”

“Well,” her fingers push at her hair, flipping it over her shoulder and then back again, “I’ve never been invited.”

“That’s not true,” Reid says. “You’re one of the guys, open invite.”

A girl steps forward, one I hadn’t noticed in the mayhem, although I’m not sure how. She’s got the look of a girl ready to party—the kind just about every guy on the team is happy to see–except she’s scowling down at Reid. “She’s not one of the guys, you idiot.” She points at Twyler’s chest. “Do guys have tits like this?” Then spins her around and slaps her butt. “Or an amazing ass?”

“Nadia! Oh my god.” Twy covers her face, like she’s hoping she’ll just vanish. From under her hands she mutters, “Ignore her. Please.”

Of course, all it does is make me look at her, watching the red streak up her neck, and my gaze goes lower, and I check out her tits. Yeah, they’re not bad.

My eyes dart up and meet hers. She’s scowling.

“Did you seriously just check me out?” she asks.

“It’s her fault, Sunshine.” I point to the girl. “She brought it up.” Whoever “she” is.

“I know you’re God’s gift to hockey and the women on campus, but I’m still the same girl I was this afternoon.” Her arms cross over her chest, which isn’t helping the way she thinks it is. “Let’s go back to that please.”

Ah, the little brother line. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I’d ever say that.

“Reid, if you’re okay,” Twyler sighs, shifting away from me, “will you go get my friend Nadia a drink? Please.”

Reid’s been staring at Nadia ever since she made herself known. He grins happily. “Sure, come on, there’s a whole bar in the kitchen.”

We’re left alone. Ginna is waiting, but it feels rude to step away. She did come to Reid’s rescue. But even though I’m used to Twyler being around the locker room or taping ankles or handing out ice packs, she never talks much. If anything, like now, she mostly seems annoyed by us.

“You, uh, want a drink or something?”

“No, I’m going to head home. All Nadia wanted was an introduction.” She looks through the window to the kitchen where Reid and her friend are mixing drinks. “Mission accomplished.”

“Ah, so that’s why you came. To play wingman to your girl.” I look at her friend, trying to place her. “Or uh, wingwoman?”

“That’s exactly why.”

“Why haven’t I seen her before?”

She looks at me straight on for the first time all night. “Because I forbid her to hook up with any hockey players.”

I laugh. “Seriously? Why?” I give her a slow smile. “Trying to keep us to yourself, Sunshine?”

“Don’t call me that. And God, no.” She blanches. “Nadia’s a… well, to put it bluntly, a jersey chaser. High level.”

“Yeah, I got that vibe.” And there is a vibe. It’s in the clothes, the comfort level around athletes, the confidence.

The extreme opposite of the girl in front of me.

“I just didn’t want her to, you know…” She makes a face. “Do her thing where I work.”

“Gotcha.” Makes sense. Things can get messy, and I don’t know much about Twyler, but it’s obvious she’s dedicated to her internship and working with the team. “So, why tonight?”

“Reid’s blue balls,” she admits, pushing a lock of that long hair behind her ear. “She realized he’s single and she’s always had a crush on him. I told her she gets one chance—one guy—and no one-night stands.”

I take another glance toward the house. Reid isn’t wasting his time cozying up to her friend. “You think she’ll hold up to the deal?”

“The only certain thing about Nadia other than her desire to be a trophy wife, is her loyalty. She won’t screw me over.”

I nod, hoping she’s right. Being on the cusp of something big changes people. “I get that. Loyal friends are important.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you at practice.” She gives me a tight smile. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t let this go too far.” She gestures to the party. Jeff is on the patio playing quarters. Axel, as usual, is shirtless and has two girls sitting on his lap by the firepit. The other guys are hanging out with a group from Zeta Sig, which usually means trouble, but what the hell. What’s the point of all this hard work if you don’t get to have some fun? “Hangovers make for mistakes and mistakes lead to injuries.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I reply, but she’s already walking off, headed toward the back gate. “Hey, you need a walk home? I can send a rookie.”

She rolls her eyes. “Nah, I live in the teal house. It’s just down the block.”

That close? I’d never noticed. “Well, thanks again.”

“Any time.”

Up on the porch, Ginna is still waiting on me, her pink nails tapping on her phone. I walk over and pick up my beer from the porch rail.

“Who is that?” she asks, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her body presses into mine and I remember what we were planning before we were interrupted.

“Team trainer.” I glance at Twyler, watching her back as she crosses the yard. A tug of guilt gnaws at me. My mother would kick my ass if she found out I let a girl walk home alone from a party in the dark. “Shit,” I grimace. “Gin, do me a favor, head upstairs? I need to do something real quick.”

Her hand travels below the belt, grazing over my cock. Blood rushes downward. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Captain.”

I smile down at her. “I won’t.”

Once I’m out of the gate, I can see Twyler half a block away. I jog after her, calling out, “Hey, hold up.”

She doesn’t turn and I grab her by the shoulder, but she jerks away, like my touch burns. “What are you doing, Cain?”

“Walking you home.”

She turns and eyes me. “I know you’ve got the Captain America thing going on with the team—they think you’re a superhero–but I can walk myself home. You may have just realized that I’m a girl, but I’m still an undateable girl, so I should be fine.”

I frown. “The guys were just messing around—no one thinks that—’

“Trust me, Cap,” she says, something dark and different flickering in her eye, “I learned a long time ago that the scary shit out there isn’t hiding in the dark. It’s right in front of you.” The moment the words are out of her mouth, the intensity in her eyes vanishes and her expression shutters again. “Forget it. I’m fine. My house is right down there.”

I open my mouth to argue, but she turns on her heel. After a beat, I do the same, heading back to the Manor. This girl isn’t my problem. She’s not even my friend. I have no obligation to anyone but myself and my team. What I do have, is a half-naked girl waiting for me up in my room, and that’s exactly where I plan to spend the rest of my night.