Puck Shots, page 5
“Anyone in here?” Eli’s soft voice asks as he knocks lightly on the half-ajar door.
“Sure, what can I help with?” I ask, and he holds up a bucket with some cleaning products and a few cloths and sponges sticking out.
“I’m here to help you. I drew the short straw, so where is this hellish bathroom?” he asks, stepping into my room, and I’m suddenly acutely aware that there is yesterday’s underwear on the floor beside my bed. I try to casually walk that way.
“I find it hard to believe you just happened to draw the short straw. Were there actually straws? Did you see the others draw theirs?”
He chuckles, and it’s like a song through the open air.
“No real straws, I just wasn’t quick enough to shot one of the others, whatever that means.”
“Ahh, well, lucky for you Luka is a clean freak, so this bathroom is probably the best of the bunch. I don’t think I’ve even seen a stray hair in there in the past year.”
“Seriously?” he asks, and I gesture to the door to my left, and when he heads through into the ensuite, I kick the dirty underwear under the bed and take the opportunity to smarten up the bedcovers. Fucking Luka’s side is all lined up perfect like. Even his shoes are lined up at the end of his bed like they are patiently waiting to be worn.
“You weren’t kidding. I honestly don’t think I have to do anything. I mean, I can wipe down the mirror and shower screen if you like?” he says, and I call out.
“No, it’s all good.”
“Well, I can’t just do nothing while I’m up here. Got any other jobs for me?”
His gaze moves around the room.
“I can make your bed. I’m assuming it’s yours if Luka keeps the bathroom that clean, that has to be his bed,” Eli says, dropping the bucket and moving over to my bed.
“You don’t have to.”
“I do, actually. You can’t sign off unless I’ve completed a task.”
“At least let me help,” I say, grabbing the other side of the sheet and pulling it up to the head of the bed.
It isn’t a big job, but it satisfies the task card duty, and I sign the back of his card and hand it back.
“Did you give Toby the bathroom job on purpose?” he asks, slipping the card into his back pocket.
“Maybe.”
“Did you expect anyone to offer to help him?”
“Truth?”
He nods with a small smile, like he already knows the answer. I had the rest of the guys fooled, but not Eli.
“I didn’t think he’d get a single volunteer, let alone have the whole pledge group dividing it up.”
“I figured there was a good chance I’d start a chain reaction.”
“You did?” I ask, sitting on the end of my perfectly made bed.
He nods. “I mean, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but if anyone was going to kick it off, it had to be me. I’m the odd one out, and don’t say I’m not, because I know I am.”
“You’re not odd.”
“Thanks, but I don’t pretend to be one of the jocks, and that helped today. Because in our world, no jock wants to be shown up by a nerd.”
It’s like I’m seeing Eli in a whole new light. This guy isn’t just any old nerd; he’s a freaking mastermind.
“You are so right. Oh my god, I don’t know why I didn’t see it. They didn’t join to help Toby; they put their hands up because they didn’t want to look like you were one upping them.”
“Exactly. Well, I should probably be going.”
“See you tomorrow morning. I’ll try to mess the bed up good for you,” I say, and it comes out way flirtier than I intended, but he just smiles, pushes his glasses up his nose with one finger, my gaze focused on the deep dimple in his right cheek again before he turns and leaves.
***
I walk into the house after a shit practice the next day, downing my second iced coffee for the day, hoping the caffeine and sweet vanilla and mint mix will help silence my brain as it screams, “You’ll never make it into the NHL playing like that.” Luka and I worked on a speed play for an hour, but the single time I got my stick to the puck, I missed the fucking net by a mile. When I turned back, the coach was so unimpressed he’d already walked out, leaving us to cool down on our own and then hit the showers.
I walk through the door of the KOK frat house and nod to Reginald Ducksworth, the old portrait hanging just inside the doorway. Rumor has it that it was originally a painting of a rival college’s dean and was stolen during a blackout raid decades ago. To conceal the theft, one of the art majors painted over the original head with a snooty-looking duck face whose eyes seem to follow you when you walk by.
Tipping your head or your hat to him on your way through the door became a sort of ritual or good luck charm. With the majority of guys in the house into sports, we’re no strangers to superstitions.
The house is always a bustle of noise and energy, and today it’s even louder with everyone getting ready for tonight’s joint midnight party with the Beta Omega Nu sorority. Their house and ours have been starting off the year together since as far back as the college goes, and this year, it’s our turn to host, and we have to kill it. Last year, the pledges, me included, were tasked with serving through the event, which would have been a totally normal thing to be doing, if we were wearing more than underwear made of leaves. They had the whole Garden of Eden theme happening, but I’m not sure where they’re going with this year’s theme, judging by the goat horns Eli is trying to balance on the mantle where the lacrosse stick normally rests.
“I thought we were going for Midnights?” I say, crossing the room to help him.
“Midsummer Night’s Dream,” Eli replies, like that makes it clearer.
“So people dream of goats in the summer?”
He laughs, and the goat horns wobble, but I catch it before it can knock off the tall fake candles flickering either side of it.
“It’s a play by Shakespeare. And well, I guess, yes, in his world, they dreamed of goats, fairies and, well, magic and love.”
He finally gets the horns into a position that seems stable enough and climbs down from the small stepladder.
“So how are you finding your task?”’ I ask, and he nods with a tired smile.
“It’s more manual labor than the attic bathroom, that’s for sure, but the guys seem okay. I’ve met Jeeper, Ken, and Claw. But I’m only half sure those are really their names.”
I chuckle. “Jeeper is really Jasper, but his kid brother was talking to him on Facetime during rush and called him Jeeper right when Gareth was walking past, so now he’s Jeeper, and Gareth is, well, Gareth. He’s pretty cool, thinks he’s funnier than he really is, but cool. Don’t be too friendly with Ken, though, or he’ll walk all over you. Oh, and Claw, he’s really called that. I saw his driver’s license once. He’s a good guy if you can understand a word he says with his thick accent.”
“I managed okay, I think. He’s from the Texas Panhandle, right?” he asks, taking a sip from his water bottle.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Thanks for the advice. Any other tips?” he asks, and I get this warm feeling in my chest. It’s kind of nice being useful in a way that doesn’t revolve around hockey.
“If you’re ever near Pickton’s, buy a box of their cookies and make sure the guys see you bringing them into the house. They all love them, and it will score you serious brownie points.”
“Nice. Pickton’s,” he says, typing the name into his phone. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Gareth calls out to Eli from across the room.
“Can you give us a hand, pledge? I think they gave us the wrong ones.” he calls, and Eli rushes over.
“Thanks again,” he says on the way, and I find myself standing there watching him for a minute as he tries to explain something to Gareth about the fake topiary tree he’s assembling, until finally Gareth takes off the small ball of greenery and replaces it with a larger one, then a stem and the smaller one back on top in the correct position. Eli glances my way, and his sparkling smile erases the last of the stress I was holding from today’s not so stellar practice. Before I look like a total creep staring at him, I look away, and turn, pretending to inspect the mantle, and that’s when I spot it. A tiny turtle made from folding the label from a water bottle. Did Eli make this? I pick it up gently, worried it might fall apart if I’m not careful.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Eli calls, and I spin, my face immediately going warm.
“I was just going,” I reply, sliding the turtle into my back pocket before doing as he says. When I reach my room, I find my bed perfectly made, even better than Luka’s, with tight corners, and a little peppermint chocolate on my pillow.
“Okay, now that’s cute.”
6
Eli
The house is full, and I mean, seriously full. I don’t think we could squeeze in another person if we tried. And that means I’m in the corner trying not to hyperventilate or run screaming from the room. Thankfully, the music is so loud it’s drowning out the combination of voices, but Chang is close enough that I can hear his very loud singing. Who knew he was a Taylor Swift fan?
“You can’t hide in the corner all night,” Magnus yells into my ear, startling me.
“I can try,” I reply, and he leans against the wall beside me.
“It’s a fun house, hey?”
I nod. Magnus is another pledge, and this is probably the first time he’s even said two words to me, but at least I am pretty sure he isn’t friends with Toby the tool. I caught Cosmo calling him that the other day and now it’s in my head forever.
Riley waves at him from across the room.
“I should go, don’t want the VP to think I’m ignoring him,” Magnus says, and he weaves through the sea of gyrating bodies.
“Are you hiding?” Cosmo asks, making me jump again.
“Is it scare Eli night in the frat house?” I ask as my racing heart starts to settle.
“Why, who else is making you jump?” he asks, leaning in super close, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin behind my ear.
“Magnus, the guy talking with Sam and Riley over there,” I say, nodding in their direction.
He cranes his neck to get a better look, before he makes an unimpressed sort of scowl before shrugging and turning back to lean in close to me again. I stand perfectly still and hold my breath, not wanting to inhale his delicious scent for fear that on top of the shiver that his breath on my skin brings, I’ll faint, and then I’ll really have the entire room’s attention. My face grows warm.
“You should dance; it would be good for the guys to see you participating.”
“I can’t dance,” I say, swallowing the lump that’s risen in my throat.
“Everyone can dance. Sure, you won’t be as good as me, but rarely anyone is.”
A laugh escapes my lips, and I turn to face him
“Rarely?” I ask.
“Okay, I lied,” he begins, yelling over the crowd. “No one is better than me.”
“Prove it?”
He passes me an unopened bottle of water, drops his red cup on the shelf behind me and starts stepping backwards, with his arms out in front of him, fingers pointing right at me.
“You asked for this.” He grins, and then he spins, and wriggles his ass my way. My cheeks are on fire, but I can’t look away. Just like every other time he’s in a room, he draws the attention of everyone inside, and right now, he’s got half the room surrounding him in a circle as he shows off his moves in time with the music. Despite the crowding of people around him, he still manages to lock eyes with me whenever a gap appears, and I’m really fucking pissed I never learned to dance, because with the way he’s looking at me right now, I might have actually taken him up on his offer. Okay, probably not, but he’s still fucking hot.
Every day there is something else happening at the house, and the gopher task I was assigned is throwing me into the path of so many of the brothers and pledges. The tips from Cosmo are helping a lot to steer me through the sometimes chaotic-ness of it all, too, and I have to wonder if he’s like this with everyone. I mean, he probably is. Every guy I talk to in the house loves him.
“Heads up, pledge,” Gareth calls, tossing me something red, but before I can even hope to catch it, Cosmo’s arm stretches out, and he’s got it.
“Thanks, I was thirsty,” Cosmo chuckles. “Toss us a water. Eli doesn’t drink this crap.”
See, it’s things like that. Does he know what every other pledge does and doesn’t drink, too? I think I mentioned once back on day one that I can’t stand the sweetness of those energy drinks, and last night at the Midsummer’s Night Dream party he gave me water, too. I tore off the label, watching him dance and then folded it into the shape of an alpaca before leaving it on the shelf not too far from his discarded beer.
“Thanks,” I call to Gareth after he tosses the bottle, and I’m thankful again that Cosmo catches it and hands it over. I don’t think it would do much for my rep to be hit in the face by a water bottle this early into pledge-a-palooza.
“How’s your week going?”
“Great, actually. I cut through the library like you said yesterday, right on three, and ran into Sam playing chess with his girlfriend, Cherry. She was about to lose, too, but I offered her a tip and three moves later she had him in check. She was super happy, and funnily enough, so was he. He still managed to beat her, though. I’m going to play Sam tomorrow after morning classes.”
“That’s great. Yeah, he’s been teaching her for like a year. He tries to get us guys to play him, but I don’t think anyone else can actually play.”
“So you don’t?”
He gestures, no. “It looks way too complicated to me.”
“It’s actually pretty easy to get the hang of. I could teach you to beat Sam,” I offer before I even realize what I’m doing. He doesn’t answer right away, and in a way, I’m kind of hoping he says not to worry about it. I pick at the edges of the bottle’s label, easing the nerves in my gut just a little.
“You don’t have to,” I add, trying to give him an easy out. “You know, you’re pretty busy with hockey and classes and stuff.”
His gaze moves briefly to my hands and back, as his lips pick up in a soft smile. “If we had an extra board here, you could teach me in my room. Sam would notice if the house board went missing, and I wouldn’t want him to know, not until I can actually beat him. If I ever get that good. It’s not like you have to clean my bathroom, and as much as I enjoy the pillow mints, I could give them up to learn chess, I guess.”
“I have a board.”
“You do?”
Heat floods my face.
“Yeah, I, umm…brought it from home.”
“Wow, if you have your own board, you’re probably even better than Sam. Oh, it would be so funny if you taught me some foolproof tricks to beat him in a game. We have this week-long board game bonanza mid-year, and he always thrashes everyone in chess.”
“There’s not really any foolproof tricks, but once you get the hang of it, you’ll give him a run for his money.”
“That would be awesome. He’d probably be thrown off his game just by seeing me know what I was doing. Pledges don’t compete, because they are the ones running everything, like being the bank in Monopoly and that. You’ll see. It’s still fun. I did it last year. It can get pretty full on. If you haven’t noticed, most of the guys in here can get pretty competitive.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I chuckle, and he smiles that wide smile that sends a flurry through my stomach.
“Okay, so tomorrow, my room, you bring the board.”
“Sounds good to me. Oh, when I play Sam, should I be playing to win or going easy on him for brownie points?”
“You’re asking a jock if you should play to win? Always.” He laughs and I slip the fully peeled label into my pocket, and turn my attention back to lining up the last of the chairs in the great room. Five rows of nine, all set perfectly centered on the mantle where the Pres’s lacrosse stick lives when he’s not playing or training, only it looks a little different. I walk through a couple of rows and have to laugh when I see the tiny fake plastic butterflies scattered in the net.
“Was this you?” I ask, looking over at Cosmo who’s still lingering in the room talking with Gareth. He weaves through the chairs to join me.
“I have no idea what you’re… ohh, aren’t they pretty. Looks like Leo finally caught something with this thing.”
I shake my head.
“You know I can’t leave them there now that I’ve seen them,” I say, and he scoffs.
“Sure, you can. Besides, think of how funny it will be when he picks it up during his speech tonight and those things fall out.”
Tonight, we’ve got our first round of trivia where they’ll randomly quiz the pledges on house history, rules, and the brothers. The rules and history I’m good with, but I’ve only been able to get to know a handful of the brothers so far.
“What’s wrong? I mean, if you’re that worried about them, we can take them out,” Cosmo says, reaching for the net.
“No, it’s not that. I was just thinking about tonight and the questions about the brothers.”
“You’ve been getting to know a few of them, though, right?”
“Yeah, but probably not as much as the other guys. I don’t suppose there is, like, a book of facts on them I could study up on?”
“Not a book, no. But I could go over a few fun facts on each of them if you want.”
“Thanks, but you’ve probably got better things to do with your time.”
He shrugs. “Not really. We had morning training, and my classes are done for the day, so I’m all yours.”
I feel my cheeks start to burn, and I guzzle down the water in hopes it will quench more than my thirst.
“Umm, sure then, okay,” I say. “That would be great. Do you want to do it here or…”
He shakes his head. “Let’s head to my room. Yo, Gareth, you done with this one? My bathroom needs cleaning.”
