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“Cool. I’m just gonna…” he pointed and headed down the hallway. He shook his head in disbelief, as it was literally getting to the point that he couldn’t go anywhere without women swarming him.
And it was kind of getting old, considering there was only one woman he wanted.
???
“Listen, I’m not saying I don’t like Gouda. All I’m saying is that it’s a little overrated.”
He sat back and threw his hands up, slapping his knees. “I don’t understand how you can say that! The smokiness, the softness of how it nearly melts in your mouth, the way it actually melts when heated. How can you say that?”
“Hey, I said what I said, OK?” Amara took another sip of her drink, which was some sort of fruity concoction containing entirely too much alcohol. She loaded another piece of Gouda onto a cracker, stuffed it in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and shrugged. “Overrated.”
She’d been engaged in a riveting conversation about cheeses with who she assumed was one of the Islanders players, whom she’d met when he’d accidentally knocked her drink over on the kitchen island as she was loading up a plate with some snacks.
She’d been starving, realizing that aside from a few handfuls of popcorn at the game, she hadn’t eaten all day, which could’ve been the reason that after only two drinks, she was feeling no pain. He’d helped her clean up the spill, poured her another drink, and followed her as she headed up to one of the second-floor gathering rooms, deciding that the first floor was way too people-y for her liking.
“So, who are you anyway?” he asked. “The Bridgeport hoodie tells me you’re either with Baylor or Hayes.”
She nodded, covering her mouth as she scarfed down another cracker. “Actually,” she said, swallowing. “I’m Tyler Hayes’s mother.”
His face sank. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. What, don’t the guys usually invite their moms to these parties?”
“Um…not, uh, not usually. But, uh, I guess…”
“Calm down. I’m fucking with you. I’m not his mom. Everyone always thinks I am, though. We’re good friends, me and Ty. I’m also…hold on, you might wanna get a pen and paper. I’m Baylor’s roommate, his ex-girlfriend, and Nick McDonough’s cousin.”
“Wow. That’s a hell of a resume.”
“And yes, I’m way too old for Ryan. Hence, why we’re exes. It didn’t really work out.”
“Nah, you’re not old at all. What are you, 32, 34? Can’t imagine you’re that much older than me. I’m 30.”
She laughed, taking another sip of her drink. “I’m 41, actually.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Honest to God!” She put her hand up. “So, who are you, anyway? Based on the height and physique, I’m gonna guess you play?”
“What about my physique would make you say that, exactly?”
“Well, you’re just like, solid muscle, with a ridiculously nice ass and legs.” She shrugged. “Am I right?”
“Well, thank you,” he said, slamming the rest of his drink. “And yes. I’m Neil Halloway. Or Neilly, as the boys call me.”
“What do you do? I mean, like Ryan is defense, Hayes is…um, the other one.” She saw him laughing. “Sorry. I know next to nothing about hockey.”
“I’m the other one. So, you know just enough to know that you like banging the players, right?”
“Well,” she said shyly. “I definitely can’t say I don’t. The few I’ve been with?” She made the chef’s kiss motion. “C’est magnifique!”
“Few, eh? So, there’s been more than just Baylor?”
She shrugged, tilting her head and pursing her lips. “Guess you’ll never know, will you?”
“Hey, did you want another drink?” he asked, standing up. “I’m heading back down for another, and I’ll grab you one.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk, Neil Halloway.”
