“I don’t know,” he said, drumming his fingers on the wooden table. “There are some good ones from that juniors tournament in Finland. Like the restaurant thing.”
Ah, that was a fun trip. It was the summer before freshman year, the first time we’d been afforded any real freedom while we were away for a tournament—with the trouble to show for it.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That was kind of funny.”
And low on the embarrassment scale, comparatively speaking. At least my clothes stayed on in that one. Nice save, Ward.
Bailey tilted her head, pausing with a fork full of Caesar salad. “Why, what happened?”
“On our first night there, they let us go out on our own,” I said. “Ward and I headed downtown, far away from the touristy stuff near our hotel. You know, to get an authentic local experience.”
“Obviously we didn’t speak a lick of Finnish,” Dallas added, taking a bite of his loaded baked potato.
Shiv and Bailey watched us, rapt, as we continued.
“We rolled up to this restaurant, and it was packed, so we figured it had to be good.” I tossed back.
“But with the language barrier, communicating with the hostess was an issue,” he said. “She pointed at a table, then to a group of people who were already seated. We nodded and were like, yeah, we want a table too. Then she seated us at the end of this long table, right along with these other people. We thought it was strange, but we were like, okay, maybe communal dining is the Finnish way.”
I huffed a laugh at the memory. “The other people were giving us funny looks, but we thought it was because we were American. The server kept bringing us courses of food, one after the other. We didn’t get the chance to order off the menu. Again, it was odd, but we rolled with it.”
“They even poured us wine without asking,” Dallas added. “When we were finished, we went to pay, and they wouldn’t take our money.” He paused, taking a sip of his beer, his lips curving against the mouth of the bottle. “Because we crashed a wedding reception by mistake.”
“We left a huge tip and booked it out of there,” I said, snickering.
Shiv tipped her head back, letting out a throaty laugh. “How is this the first I’m hearing of this?” She recovered partially, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s a good thing you two are pretty.”
“Sure is.” Bailey bit her lip. Her shoulders shook beneath my gray hoodie as she attempted to fight back a fit of giggles and failed.
I waved them off, fighting a sheepish smile. “Yeah, yeah.”
Dallas looked down at his plate, cutting off a piece of steak before glancing up again. “There was also the Amsterdam thing on the way home.”
Bailey turned to face me. “Amsterdam…?” Her brow knit together, expression turning wary.
I laughed, squeezing her thigh beneath the table. “We did edibles, James. Magic brownies. We didn’t hit the red-light district.”
The father of one of our teammates handled the travel arrangements for the entire team. We got stuck with a random thirty-six-hour stopover in the middle of the Netherlands. Obviously, we had to seize the opportunity to check out a “coffee shop.”
“But edibles are tricky, and we had no idea what we were doing. So, of course, we overshot and ended up super high,” Dallas explained. “Like, super fucking high.”
Bailey and Shiv exchanged a look over the table that was somewhere between amusement and these idiots.
“Then we got the munchies,” I said, “so we found a McDonalds. We ordered everything on the menu, and with the exchange rate, it worked out to like two hundred dollars by the time we were done,” I recalled. “You know, I bet we could have dined at the fanciest joint in Amsterdam for that.”
“To be fair, those were the best chicken nuggets I’ve ever eaten.” Dallas’s expression turned wistful. “Worth the twenty-five bucks.”
I guffawed. “Because you were higher than a fucking kite. You were dipping them in your strawberry milkshake, dude.”
“Once we got back to the hotel, Carter lost his phone. We ransacked our room looking for it—using his phone as a flashlight. Finally, I wised up and decided to use my phone to call his. And he screamed when it rang in his hand.”
Shiv laugh-snorted, slapping her palm on the table, and Bailey broke into a fit of giggles. It wasn’t my sharpest moment, but it was funny in retrospect. I’d been pretty fucked up before, but that took the cake. Or brownie.
“Then we turned on Anchorman,” I told them. “We were a solid half hour into the movie before either of us realized the TV had been on mute the entire time.”
“Oh my god,” Bailey shouted, hazel eyes crinkling. “You two are such a gong show.”
Dallas chortled. “I blame Carter. It was all his idea.”
“I believe you,” Bailey said.
“What?” I shrugged, picking up my bottle of beer. Beneath the table, Bailey shifted her weight, accidentally brushing her leg against mine and momentarily diverting my attention. “It’s legal there. When in Rome. Er,” I stumbled, “Amsterdam.” See? She had a crazy amount of power over my brain.
“I think the lesson here is that you should never be released into the wild together without proper supervision,” Shiv said, still fighting back a chuckle.
“In our defense, we were only eighteen,” I said. “I like to think we’re a little bit smarter now.”
“I should hope so.” Bailey wiped away a tear of laughter. “You a closet pothead, Carter?”
“Ha, not really.”
“That’s not a no.” Her brow crinkled, expression sobering. “But what about drug tests?”
“I’m talking a couple times a year, max. In the off-season.” Usually. Ty was another story, with an encyclopedic knowledge about how to outwit drug testing and several successes doing so.
“Ah,” she murmured. “You really are corrupt.”
“Trying to reform,” I said. “Kinda. Why? Are you telling me you’ve never done that?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Once or twice. I just didn’t like it.”
Huh. I couldn’t picture Bailey doing anything illegal. Or breaking the rules in general, for that matter. Wasn’t sure how she ended up with me, but definitely wasn’t complaining.
“Ah, my rule-follower.” I patted her thigh beneath the table, letting my hand linger on her leg. She shot me a sidelong glance that was more than a little suggestive, which instantly turned me on again. Dammit.
Not long after, Shiv drove Bailey home so they could swing by and check out the exteriors of the apartments on their list. To, quote, “assess the sketchiness factor of the area and check out walkability to nearby Starbucks.” Chick priorities, I guess.
Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 29
OceanofPDF.com
FACE OFF
Chase
For a weeknight game, the arena was packed. But that was always the case when we played Callingwood. The stakes were especially high tonight because Bailey was in the stands with Shiv. Hell, I didn’t merely want to win; I wanted to annihilate the Bulldogs. You know, male pride and all that. Not to mention the ever-present desire to crush Morrison in every possible way.
Unfortunately, our teammates were on a different page. I wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on, but they were sloppy, disorganized, and undisciplined. Ward and I were pulling most of the weight—and putting in ridiculous amounts of ice time as a result.
Even worse, Ty was having an off game, and the two goals he let in so far were weak as hell. One or two more, and Coach Miller would have to pull him. Though with our defense failing to show up, I had little confidence our backup goalie would fare much better.