SWNOVELS Sidelined Love: Chapter 2
I can’t help but stare at the pair of discarded red lace panties, confused by their presence. I don’t think I’m the reason why they are on the floor, especially since I only just opened the door. However, it wouldn’t surprise me. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.
The bass coming from the speakers pounds in my chest as I step over the discarded garment. I allow the noise and energy of the party to wash over me. Laughing voices, shouts, and the clink of beer bottles fill the entire house. I’m sure the noise can be heard halfway down the street with how loud this party is rocking.
“Levi! Dude!” Wilder Blake shouts near my ear as his hand lands on my shoulder. It doesn’t take much to see that he is living up to his name. He pulls me into the room, and I’m greeted by the rest of my teammates from the Crestwood Red Wolves hockey team. I grin and exchange one-armed bro hugs with the guys. Their slaps on the back and shouts of “Let’s go, Cap!” only force the smile on my face to grow wider.
We’re all riding the high that comes with our win today. I’m truly happy right now, but I know it’s temporary.
I reach over and snag a beer off the counter across from Wilder. I pop the top and take a swig. The bitter taste is almost like heaven on my tongue. I swear the only thing that tastes better is pussy on my—
The thought pauses in my mind as my gaze lands on Mya, who’s standing with her friends on the other side of the room. Or is her name Monica? Her eyes are on me as if I’m the only person in the room. When she tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks away, I raise an eyebrow. It’s all part of this game she likes to play, and I only indulge her when I’m bored.
However, right now, I’m not in the mood. Why did I even bother leaving my apartment?
I take another sip of my beer and it goes down easy. Almost too easy.
It takes a second for me to confirm with myself that her name is indeed Mya. I freeze up as she leans in close, her hand running along my chest. “Wanna get out of here?”
I pause, then give her my most charming smile. Her finger trails down my body toward my pants. I’m curious about how far she’ll go, and when she grabs my dick through my jeans, I snag her wrist. “As tempting as that sounds, I can’t leave my teammates hanging.”
Mya pouts as she shifts her gaze from my hand that is holding onto her back to my eyes. “You sure? We could have some real fun, just the two of us.”
“Next time,” I say, though I know it’s an empty promise.
Mya rolls her eyes and walks away from me. Looks like she knows my words are a lie too. It is easy to see her disappointment even with her back turned to me. I watch her go back to her friends, briefly considering chasing after her, but I stop myself. I’m prepared to be the villain tonight. Any other night, I would be more than willing, but tonight, I’m not in the mood.
I rub the back of my neck as I scan the room. The living room fits perfectly in what you could imagine is your typical off-campus house. I’m supposed to feel as if I’m in my element here. This isn’t the first time that I’ve partied here, but it is the first time that I’ve felt that I was better off staying at my place.
As the party continues to rage, my gaze drifts across the room until I find Asher Bennett, my best friend and teammate, chatting with a bunch of people by the keg. I’m willing to bet he’s talking about our win tonight. Knox Sanchez is quietly in the corner, talking to a girl that I vaguely remember seeing around campus. Even though Wilder is in another room, I can hear his laugh over the music. The guy’s a walking party no matter where he goes.
Then there’s Blaise Dalton, standing slightly apart from everyone else. He, like me, is watching the scene before him. Unlike me, I notice he is amused by the sight before him.
But I feel nothing. I know I’m just going through the motions, partaking in an act I’ve perfected over the years.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don’t bother looking because I know who it is. He’s a big part of the reason I’m on edge right now.
“Who wants to play a round?”
I turn my attention toward the voice and find Wilder standing in the doorway. He’s pointing over his shoulder, and I shift my body until I see the beer pong table behind him. That will give me something to do to pass the time until I’ve stayed long enough that it wouldn’t look awkward for me to leave. I nod my head in acknowledgment, letting him know I will join him. Two other guys who I’ve seen around campus before joining us at the table in the back.
“I’m Seth and this is Rob,” Seth says as he holds out his hand for me to shake. His words are slightly slurred, and I wonder how much he’s had to drink before we met.
“Levi and Wilder,” I say as I gesture to Wilder before we set up the game.
When the game begins, I wait for my competitiveness to kick in, but it doesn’t. Inside, I feel nothing although I don’t show it. I’m still playing the role I’m supposed to play, yet I can’t help but feel like a fraud.
I grab a ping-pong ball and take my position. Focusing on the red Solo cup down on the table, I tune out the rest of the world and shoot. The ball arches perfectly through the air before landing with a soft plop.
“Drink,” I say with a smirk. Wilder gives me a high five while Seth takes a sip of his beer.
My phone vibrates again in my pocket. I know I should answer, but I don’t want to talk to my father right now. I can already predict how the conversation will go and I don’t want it to put me in a worse mood. I press one of the buttons on the side of my phone, sending the call to voicemail without bothering to pull it out of my pocket.
“Hey, Levi, heads up!”
I snap back to the present as the ping-pong ball comes flying toward me. I catch it easily, falling back into the rhythm of the game. The mindless activity is a welcome distraction.
As I move to take my next shot, I feel a hand clap on my shoulder. It’s Asher. “Excellent shot, bro,” he says with a grin. “You need to drink more.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” I reply. I allow myself to relax slightly.
“How about we switch things up a bit? How about a shot instead of a drink?” Asher asks.
That causes Wilder to do a double take. “I’ve been waiting for someone to say that all night.”
I raise an eyebrow at Asher’s suggestion. While he parties as much as the rest of us, I usually don’t expect him to be the ringleader of the shenanigans.
Asher grins, clearly enjoying all of this. “Well, Wilder, looks like you’re in luck.”
I watch as Asher leaves the room but quickly returns with a bottle of premium tequila, judging by the label and small plastic cups. This isn’t what we usually drink, but then again, this isn’t shaping up to be a regular night.
Wilder’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store. “Now this is what you meant when you said we’re partying hard tonight!” he exclaims.
I turn to our beer pong competition, Seth and Rob, and ask, “Are you guys in?” I gesture to Asher, who is now slightly shaking the bottle.
Seth replies, “Fuck yeah, man.” Rob nods and places the ball in his hand down on the table.
Continuing our game after taking shots of tequila is going to be an interesting endeavor. Maybe this evening will be interesting after all.
As if Asher grabbing the bottle of tequila was a bat signal, the other guys come in and bring a bigger crowd with them. He lines up plastic shot glasses as if he’s some sort of pro bartender at some high-end club versus the guy that usually has to be convinced to party harder.
He fills each glass, and I can’t help but stare at the clear liquid shimmering under the low lights. Everyone waits until Asher finishes pouring the liquor before grabbing their own cups.
Wilder raises his shot and says, “To bad decisions.”
We all raise our drinks, clinking them together. “To bad decisions,” we repeat, and I can’t help but grin. I raise an eyebrow before bringing the plastic to my lips.
As the sharp, warm burn of the tequila slides down my throat, I shake my head and let it warm my body. It is delicious and exactly what I need to distract myself from thinking temporarily. I put the cup down and run a hand down my face. Focusing on this beer pong game is going to be a challenge, but it makes things more interesting.
I chase my shot of tequila with some beer before I glare at the red Solo cups staring me down. There is no way the fuckers in front of me are going to win this game. “Are you guys ready to play again?”
I can see that the tequila is hitting them more than me. I glance at Wilder out of the corner of my eye, and either he has the best poker face I’ve ever seen, or the tequila has barely affected him. When the two dudes in front of us give us a small nod, I snatch the ping-pong ball from the table and move to aim.
The ball leaves my fingers, soaring through the air in a perfect arc before landing gracefully in one of Seth and Rob’s cups. A collective gasp leaves everyone’s lips before a loud round of applause erupts.
The urge to be cocky is strong, but I do my best to hide my smirk as I watch the opposing team exchange wary glances. Their eyes narrow and I can feel the shift in the energy in the room. This is beginning to feel like a battle instead of a friendly game of pong.
As I reach for my cup of beer, I catch sight of Wilder grinning mischievously. He extends his arm, pointing at our opponents’ side of the table. “Looks like there’s only one cup left on their side. Let’s wrap this up right now, shall we?”
That does little to soothe the tension that is growing between us and the other team, but I am not surprised. It’s the same attitude that Wilder brings with him to the rink and that helps us win so many games.
His words have the exact opposite reaction on the crowd as their cheers seem to bounce off the walls, reminding me of what it feels like to step out onto the ice.
But before we can continue what will surely be a win for us, a voice breaks through the noise. It’s one of the opposing players and I can read the anger on his face.
“Hold on a damn minute. You haven’t won yet,” he says, his eyes blazing with the kind of fire that could only be the result of tequila and a bruised ego. “We’ve got one cup left, which means we’re still in this game.”
The room grows slightly quieter as the tension goes up another notch. I watch as he adjusts his stance, takes a deep breath, and then tosses the ping-pong ball. The room holds its collective breath as the ball defies gravity for a moment before it clatters against our side of the table and bounces off into no-man’s-land.
A chorus of disappointed groans fills the room from the people that wanted them to win, but Wilder and I just exchange knowing looks. It’s our turn again, thank fuck.
I lean over to Wilder and mutter under my breath, “Finish this.”
He gives me a quick nod and then grabs the ball. He moves it between his fingers before he launches it through the air. It arcs perfectly, and with a small splash, nails it right in their last cup. And just like that, we clinch the win.
Wilder’s shot causes the room to erupt like a volcano of cheers and applause. As the defeated team hangs their heads in tipsy acknowledgment of their loss, Asher strolls over to the table once more with a new bottle of tequila. Soon we’re taking shots again, and I begin to feel more relaxed.
The room buzzes as the crowd around us continues to celebrate. Their laughter sounds as if it’s bouncing off the walls, but not everyone is happy.
I look over and my eyes find Seth, who is slowly turning red. He looks to not be taking the celebrations too well. Before I can react, he stumbles and slams his palm against the worn wood of the beer pong table, causing several cups to jump, spilling some of the liquid that is still in them.
I watch as he steps up to Wilder, but Wilder doesn’t move an inch. I’m mentally preparing to jump in if it comes to it. I know Wilder can handle himself and the right thing for me to do as captain would be to set the right example. However, there’s no way I’m going to watch one of my teammates get into a fight and not act.
“This isn’t over,” Seth says.
I momentarily feel like we’ve gotten transferred into a B-rated action flick.
Wilder cocks an eyebrow as if he’s amused by the sight in front of him. He looks unbothered even though I know the tequila must be affecting him by now. “It’s just a game, man. Let it go.”
Wilder is right, but that might not have been the best move. His just a game comment only adds fuel to the fire. I watch as Seth’s hands clench into fists at his sides. The crowd senses the change in the air as laughter fades and the whispers increase. People start moving away from the table and toward the walls and exits, and I can’t blame them at all.
As if sensing something is about to happen, Asher’s hand hesitates over the bottle’s cap. His eyes dart between Wilder and the pissed off guy, calculating what he should do.
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Seth says, inching closer to Wilder and invading his personal space. I already know where this is going to go, and I can already see myself having to explain this to Coach in the morning.
Before I can process anything, anger flashes on Seth’s face just before he shoves Wilder with both hands. Wilder stumbles back but regains his balance before I make my move.
I jump into action, sliding between Wilder and the other guy to prevent things from escalating further. “Hey!” I shout. “Fucking cool it! It’s supposed to be a fun night for all of us.”
Rob joins him now, and I predict that this is going to get ugly fast. I can see from my peripheral that some of our teammates move toward us too, showing that we aren’t alone either.
The music has been turned down, probably by someone who wants to get a front-row seat to the drama. I’m trying to think of what to say next in order to defuse the tension drifting between our two groups, but I come up empty. That is unlike me, but this is an unusual night.
But I need to find a solution before fists get thrown. I glance over at Asher, and he gives me a small nod, alerting me that he has my back.
I clear my throat and speak once more. “We were here to play a friendly game and have a good time. It would be wrong to have this end on a shitty note.”
Despite my attempts to mediate the situation, my words mean nothing.
“Stay out of this,” Seth says. I get a whiff of his breath and it is both the least pleasant thing I’ve smelled in a while and a mixture of different alcohols. It triggers something within me and makes me wonder how much he’s had to drink tonight. His friend takes several steps closer to Wilder, making it clear what they are gearing up for.
Wilder’s stance shifts subtly, feet spreading to better distribute his weight as he prepares himself for a fight. “Back the fuck down or you’ll regret it.”
That warning only further escalates the situation. With a noise I can’t quite describe, Seth lunges toward Wilder before I can do anything, but thankfully, Wilder’s reflexes are sharp. As if he hasn’t taken even a single shot of tequila, Wilder shifts to his left and counters with a swift uppercut that startles Seth.
I’m in motion before I fully register what’s happening, grabbing Rob’s arm to make sure he can’t jump into the fight as well. The crowd backs away even further in an attempt to avoid getting harmed in the fight, but staying nearby enough to watch what is going on.
Seth’s fist flies toward Wilder, but before it can connect, Knox and Blaise appear, grabbing Seth’s arms and pulling him away. Asher stands between them while I grab Rob. We manage to break them apart, but not before Seth has a split lip.
Rob fights against my grip, but there’s no way I’m letting him go. The only thing that is preventing us from getting into an all-out brawl with them is us not wanting to lose our ability to play our next game.
With the situation finally under control, I take the lead once more. “Alright, the party’s over for you two. Let’s get them out of here.”
If any of the assholes want to say something, they know better at this point. I can hear the guy I’m holding mumbling under his breath, but he says nothing as we escort him and his friend to the front door. Blaise opens it and we shove them out of the house without further incident. Knox makes sure the door is securely closed behind them.
“Fuckin’ A,” Knox mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. I’m willing to swear that I heard a collective sigh of relief once the door clicked shut.
“Back to our regularly scheduled programming, then?” Blaise suggests with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, let’s forget about all of… that,” Wilder agrees. I can see a small bruise forming under his chin, but the other guy looked far worse for wear. “Anyone up for more drinks and shots?”
“Already on it,” Asher chimes in and I watch as he heads toward the kitchen to grab what he needs to pour more shots.
Soon I’m standing there with another shot filled to the brim, and I take it all in one swift motion. The feeling of the burning liquid sliding down my throat will never get old. The mixture of it and the adrenaline coursing through my veins because of the fight should have me feeling as if I’m floating on cloud nine.
But I’m not.
As my gaze lands on my friends and teammates that have gathered here tonight, I’ve never felt more alone.