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“Fuck you!” Alyssa yells as she steps back to her original spot, sensing that she’s no match for the little New Yorker.
“Fuck you.” Ali returns to her spot beside Marc. “Fucking puck bunny,” she adds calmly, but loud enough to hear, before taking her shot of vodka.
I’ve heard the term before, in reference to the girls that sleep around with the hockey team, but I’ve never heard it said aloud to someone’s face. Ali has known her for all of five minutes and just said what everyone has always wanted to say to her.
I like that Logan has a friend like her. She seems loyal.
Marc looks down at her, giving her a thankful smile for defending his friend. She returns the soft grin with a wink.
I knew something was going on between those two.
Chapter 30
Logan
“Well, cheers to that!” Cam says, breaking the awkward silence as he lifts his shot and pours it down his throat.
Everyone follows suit except Ali because she already took hers, and Eli. I’m not sure why he didn’t take a shot. He has a drink in his hand and, judging by the redness of his eyes, he’s been drinking for a while. I could care less that he’s drinking tonight; if anything, it makes me want to join him.
After dealing with the Zac drama over the last few days and walking in to see that blonde hanging all over Eli, I’m starting to wish I’d joined in on taking a shot. The more I think about the fact that this girl, Alyssa, is one of Eli’s hookup buddies, the more I need a drink.
The vodka is sitting in the middle of the table. I grab it and take a chug straight from the bottle. It burns like hell going down my throat. I haven’t had a drink in a while, and I almost forgot how much I dislike the taste.
My eyes connect with Eli’s as I put the bottle down. I can tell he was watching me the whole time as his mouth shifts from being gaped open in shock to a devilish grin. He slowly licks his lips as if he’s trying to taste the alcohol on mine.
It sucks that he has a girl hanging on his every word right now, but it’s hard to keep my poker face when he looks so damn good. He always does, though. He’s wearing the same baseball hat he had on earlier, but this time it’s facing forward and shadowing some of his face. However, I can still see his soft brown eyes and dilated pupils from here.
“Damn, girl. Okay!” Ali says to me, referencing my drinking straight from the bottle. “I guess we are drinking tonight,” she laughs.
I feel warm from the shot already.
Marc starts filling up three more shot glasses. “Another?” I ask him as he hands one to me and one to Ali, keeping the third one for himself.
“Hell yeah, another!” He holds up his shot glass, ready to cheers. “I haven’t gotten drunk with you since Spain.”
I blush at the memory of my drunken nights abroad. Marc had to hold my hair back on more than one occasion while I vomited into the toilet. You can thank the sangria for that. The fact that he’s excited to drink with me again is surprising, to say the least.
Ali has her shot glass up in the air touching Marc’s, waiting to add mine into the cheers.
I sigh in resignation, picking up my glass from the table to connect it to theirs.
“Fuck it,” I say before downing the vodka. It still burns, but slightly less this time.
My face contorts from the taste of the vodka, and Eli catches it. He still has the same smirk on his face as he shakes his head at me, chuckling.
Us both being drunk tonight is going to be fun.
Patrick scoots closer to me again before leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Logan, can I please talk to you in private for a second?”
When he asked me the same thing a few minutes ago, I shot him down quickly. I don’t want to talk to him, especially after what happened last week, but those vodka shots are already wearing down my inhibitions.
I look from Eli, whose face looks stern and concerned, back to Patrick, whose eyes are pleading with me. I’m going to need another drink to get through this conversation, so I take another swig from the bottle. That one didn’t burn at all.
“Fine, let’s go.” I put the bottle down and start to walk away from the table, careful not to look in Eli’s direction.
I go far enough from the group so that no one can hear our conversation, but close enough that Marc and Eli can see me if, for some reason, I should need them.
“What?” I ask Patrick harshly, crossing my arms in front of me.
