Page 38 of The New Guy
It’s awesome. And everything is blurry.
Suddenly I hear a chime sounding from all corners of the room. “What the hell is that?” I slur.
“The bedtime chime,” Drake says, pulling out his phone. “You have the team phone, right?”
“Right,” I slur.
“When you’re on the road with the team, you get a gold star when we win a game…”
“Lovethe gold star,” I agree. It had appeared on the phone just as soon as we got onto the bus.
“It also prompts us for curfew,” he explains. “If you’re out at a club somewhere, it knows. And it nags you. If you’re at the hotel, it only chimes once, to remind you to go to your own room.”
“So bossy.” I pull the phone out of my pocket. It shows the time—twelve midnight—and the date. I heave a big, drunken sigh. “I did it. I survived my wedding anniversary.”
“Your anniversary?” Drake says. “Sorry you’re here with us tonight.”
“No, it’s good,” I slur. “Because he couldn’t be.”
Several more faces turn in my direction, while some of the alcohol in my system finds its way to the corners of my eyes.
“Uh-oh,” Heidi Jo whispers. “Are you okay?”
“Yup.” Hockey players don’t cry. So I’m not going to, either.
I stand up instead. It doesn’t go all that well, though. The rug seems to shift beneath my feet, and I tilt to the side.
I’m saved, though, by the firm grasp of a hockey player. “Easy,” Hudson says in a husky voice. “Let’s get you back to your room.”
“Yes, let’s,” I agree. I’ve reached that state of drunkenness where I really need to go home.
Several people call out their good nights as we head for the hallway. Then Hudson steers me into the elevator, where I lean against the paneled wall in a way that looks more suave than wasted.
Hopefully.
“What floor?” he asks, his finger hovering over the button panel.
“Three.” I’m pretty sure.
“Oh, we’re neighbors. What a surprise,” he deadpans.
I laugh, but that makes me wobbly, so I stop. “God, I’m a train wreck. Thanks for dealing with me.”
His serious brown eyes look back at me. “It’s nothing. In the first place, you are very entertaining. But didn’t you just spend sixteen hours taking care of all of us?”
“Well, sure.” I belch. “But they pay me for that. And I wanted to come on this trip because it’s distracting. I just had to survive this day.” I close my eyes as the elevator descends. “It was a really long twenty-four hours.”
“Yeah,” Hudson says softly. “Wedding anniversary, huh?”
“Yup. Some things in life you just have to get through.”
“Right. Just power through. Like dental work.”
“And colonoscopies,” I add. “And phone calls from the in-laws.”
“At least an anniversary happens only once a year,” he says, trying to be helpful.
“Right. There’s also birthdays, and Christmas. That one is a killer.”
