BLAZE: Enemies to Lovers College Hockey Romance by Eddie Cleveland (ebook reader macos .txt) 📕

“Okay, so I know this looks bad, but listen,” Canuck slurs. “It looks bad, but it’s not bad. We’re not bad guys, right? Are we the bad guys?” He flails his hands around and accidentally knocks into Rookie and almost tips over into the snowbank. I grab his jacket and pull him back.

“I’ll order a car.” I pull out my phone.

“We just wanted to get some food,” Rookie explains to Prissy.

On my screen is another message from none other than Canuck himself.

Canuck: Prissy-whipped!!!

“Really?” I twist my screen around until Canuck manages to focus his eyes enough to read it.

“What? I sent that before. Not now. Blame thirty-minutes-ago Canuck. That guy was making some total dick moves.” He throws himself under the bus.

I order a car while Prissy gives them a lecture.

“I told you not to make me regret letting the rules slide a bit. Do you see me right now? See this look on my face? You’ve made me regret it.

“We were hungry,” Canuck whines.

“So, you thought, ‘Hey, we’re hammered. You know what’s a great idea? Let’s go break curfew, roam around an unfamiliar city and grab some food?’” She isn’t asking a question. Her pursed lips and narrow eyes make that very clear. Even if you didn’t have vision, you would be able to feel the waves of anger rolling off her body.

“Yes! Exactly,” Canuck answers enthusiastically. His face floods with relief that she finally gets it.

Prissy rubs her forehead and slumps her shoulders. “Why didn’t you just order in pizza or something.”

Canuck just keeps going, “You know that’s what we originally said. For real. But… Rookie was telling us about an awesome wing spot here.”

“Well, Blaze told me about it.” Rookie tries to give me credit, but I’m not interested in being tied to this train wreck.

“Sometimes you get something in your head, and it’s hard to let go. You know?” Rookie’s eyes pause on each of our faces, like he’s expecting a deep answer. He’s got the sage head nod of a stoner who smoked too much.

“Listen, if I’m being honest, I thought we’d grab some wings and be back before you noticed,” Canuck spills.

Prissy looks like she isn’t sure if she should be grateful for his honesty or pissed off at his confession. She sighs. “Come on. Let’s get you guys back before this needs to be a thing.”

I can feel the relief on Rookie’s face like it’s my own. He looks like he might start kissing Prissy’s feet.

“Soooo, that’s a hard no on the wings then?” Canuck is a man pleading for mercy. His eyebrows are up, his hands are outstretched. He looks like he might fall to his knees and cry if she says no.

“It’s a hard no,” I answer for her.

I know Canuck is drunk, but he should shut up and be grateful that Prissy isn’t losing her shit on them. She’s doing enough for these clowns. They’re out here, breaking the rules, and he keeps trying to push it further. It’s ungrateful and selfish and… ah, shit. Self-awareness sucks.

I’m the worst offender. I don’t follow her rules. Every time she tries to make me, I make a spectacle out of it. My pink suit, being late at the hospital, getting booted from the strip club, are all ways I’ve made her life harder.

No one has caused Prissy more stress than me.

That doesn’t mean I have to keep being a problem. I’ll start by solving this one for her. Our driver pulls up to the curb in a minivan.

“Let’s get back to the hotel, boys.” I slide the side door open.

Rookie doesn’t fuck around. He gets in, buckles his belt and stares out his window. Canuck is taking a different approach. He wobbles like his legs are missing a few bones. I grab the back of his coat until he slides into his seat.

“Thank you.” Prissy mouths the words, sending her message on a cloud of breath.

She and I share the back, bench seat. On the drive back to the hotel, we gaze out our windows, silent. In the darkness and quiet, no one knows my arm is outstretched. Holding her hand. It’s our secret.

When we get to the hotel, Canuck is a lot less sloppy getting out of the vehicle than he was getting in. I don’t know if he took a nap or if he’s sobering up. I’m just glad Rookie and I don’t need to drag him inside Weekend-at-Bernie’s style.

“Thanks for getting us back here.” Rookie watches Prissy. “I promise I won’t cause anymore issues. I’m going to bed.”

“Alright,” Prissy answers. He darts for the elevators, eager to escape.

Canuck sort of wobbles in one spot. “I can’t go to bed.”

“Yes you can. Elevators are that way. Let’s go.” I put my hand on his back and try to guide him, but Canuck won’t budge.

“No, I can’t,” he argues.

Prissy sighs. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m bunking with Player.” He’s so dejected.

“And?” I’m getting annoyed.

“Man, I don’t want more drama. It never used to be this way. You and Player, you guys were buds. You were friends.” Canuck lays his hand on my shoulder.

“What does this have to do with…”

“Listen.” He presses his finger onto my lips.

“Man, what are you doing?” I step back, and he sways a bit.

“Listen. You’re a dick. I love ya man. You’re like my badass American brother. Like, don’t fuck with my brother, you know?”

“Canuck…” Prissy tries to cut him off, but he’s not having it.

“Anyway, Player already knows you’re a dick. But now, tonight, I’m the dick, right? Because I’m ‘pulling a Blaze,’ and she’s going to tell Player.” He nods at Prissy. “And now I’m gonna be the new you.” He flings his hand at me. “You know?”

I’ve been drunk enough times that I speak the language well. I know what he’s saying. This rift between Player and I isn’t just affecting us. It’s affecting the whole house. Or at least Canuck.

“I miss how it was before Prissy showed up. No offence.”

“None