Page 7 of Rock Pucking Bottom

Scuba said, "Glad that you came. Now don't you let these two scare you away."

I followed Scuba's line of sight. He stared down the rest of the leadership: Spencer Suzuki and Carter Carmichael.

Raising an eyebrow, I asked the obvious question. "Now, why would they scare me away?"

"They aren't nearly as focused on hockey as you."

I scoffed. That seemed so absurd.

A couple of weeks ago, my self-imposed hiding would have been to focus on hockey. Since moving here, I had stayed home alone, so my new teammates didn't find out that I was a werewolf and that I was quickly developing a love affair with Irish whiskey. I should watch hockey highlights instead of drinking a bottle or two of Jameson.

Scuba pointed at me.

"See, I can make you smile and because of that, I'm now your best friend on the team." He elbowed me slightly. "Besides, you look nice when you smile. Not so scary."

I had a feeling that he was on a mission to make my life a little less boring, and it would be easier to just accept it.

At that moment, I didn't really care. I had a glass of Jameson in front of me and it took all self-control not to down the sweet liquid as if it was a shot just so I could order another one. Instead, I listened to my new friend prattle on about everything going on with my new team and how he was ready to win another Stanley Cup.

Chapter 8

Eoghan

Scuba'sweddingwasexactlywhat I thought it would be. A glitzy affair full of hockey players. It seemed unreal; he put together the whole thing in basically the same time period that I'd been with the Legacy: a month and half.

If it was any other Legacy player, I wouldn't have shown up. But my new self-appointed best friend would have killed me if I missed his special day.

It was fucking brutal being single at an event to celebrate love. It really didn't help that all my friends on the Legacy were all coupled up. Carter and Suzuki were dancing with their girlfriends since they came into the dance hall.

Also, everyone was annoying as all hell with their tinging the glasses with their knives, begging Scuba and Annette to kiss. The only way I could get the sound to escape my ears was to dull all my senses with my new favorite method to cope with things: Jameson.

Got to love a good open bar, and a few of them were spread out around the large reception hall. So I never had to wait in line for more.

As I visited Tom's bar for the tenth time and asked for a James and ginger, he shook his head. "No can do."

I squinted my eyes at him. It was early in the evening, and I wasn't even tipsy.

"Why?"

I reached over the bar to get a cup, and the guy had the audacity to slap my hand as he said, "You're cut off."

I saw red, and I wanted to rip the guy's head off. Who the fuck slapped another grown man's hand?

Okay, I probably shouldn't have reached over the bar, but I wanted a damn drink, especially since people were begging for the happy couple to kiss yet again.

The scrawny bartender folded his arms and tilted his head as if sayingtry me. I had sixty pounds on the dude, but I wasn't going to fight at my teammate's wedding. So I just shook my head and went to the bar on the far side of the room.

Thankfully, Lisa wasn't a dickwad like Tom was and gave me another James and ginger. I tried to slow down a little. That way, I wouldn't continue to get cut off by the various open bars.

I don't know who the hell talked to the DJ, but he cranked up the music even louder, to the point if you were walking near a speaker, it would vibrate your whole body. Which wasn't helping my sour mood.

I had to say, it was nice that Cartsy, Scuba, and Suzuki would drag me to the dancefloor and wouldn't let me just wallow in my loneliness. After the electric slide, I noticed the bar in the back was being torn down and instead of taking the booze and moving it to one of the open bars, they were taking it to the back.

So I went over to get one last drink. I didn't care. I had a sizeable buzz going on. The twenty drinks I'd had thus far were fairly watered down.

Cartsy and Suzuki followed me over to the bar. They both ordered a beer. I asked for some Jameson.

The bartender, I forgot her name, asked what I wanted but that dickhead Tom who was at the other bar came up and said, "He's cut off."

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