Pucking Sweet: An MMF Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 3)
Pucking Sweet: Chapter 39

The front door slams shut as a shrill voice calls through the beach house, “Look out ladies, the fun has arriiiiived!” Of course Olivia Monroe is the last one here. I bet she’ll be fashionably late to her own funeral. Seriously, this girl should come with a warning label—and a complimentary hangover IV drip.

“Gird up your loins,” Tina mutters.

I grin at her, rolling my eyes. Olivia is the main reason I invited Tina. I can’t possibly handle her on my own, not with the way she spins my sister up. They bring out the worst in each other, like a perfect storm of mean girl nastiness. And the more they drink, the nastier they get. Good thing Tina isn’t afraid to slap a bitch.

Olivia sweeps into the kitchen, waving like she’s Miss America. Her ash-brown hair is blown out, her expensive extensions nearly reaching her waist. She’s wearing a hot pink bedazzled jumpsuit.

“Livy!” Violet squeals, racing around the kitchen island to wrap her arms around her best friend.

Letting her go, Olivia steps back. “Who’s ready to celebrate the bride?” She pulls a bottle of Cristal from inside her designer tote.

The girls all scream again. The cork is popped, someone turns up the music, and they dance around the kitchen in their swimsuits.

We were only allowed to check into this rental at noon. Already, we’ve made a sizable dent in the liquor supply. Violet and her friends spent the first hour gossiping and dancing on the back porch. Then we all went down to the beach. That part I didn’t mind. The ocean was cold, but the sand was warm.

Now that the party is underway, it’s clear why Violet asked me to host this for her. She’s using me. More accurately, she’s using my attention to detail, something her ditzy friends utterly lack. Case in point, I’m the only one aside from Tina, the literal bartender, who seems capable of mixing drinks. I turn off the blender and pop the lid. Putting a smile on my face, I turn around singing, “Who wants more strawberry margaritas?”

Five glasses get shoved in my face.

I look to Tina, still wearing my fake smile. She just grins, tattooed arms crossed as she leans against the counter. Lord, help me. It’s gonna be a long night.

“Poppy Girl, tell us about life in Florida,” says Olivia, nestled on the sofa between Violet and our quiet cousin, Bianca.

All eyes turn to me.

“Well, it’s pretty great,” I say, taking a sip of my coconut water. I was already feeling a little green and stopped drinking hours ago. “I run PR for the NHL team here in Jax, which is fun and exciting—”

“Do you know any of the players?” squeals Lemon. Unfortunate name, I know. She’s sitting next to a girl named Chutney. I wish I was making this up. Tina is wedged on the other couch between two of Violet’s current DC friends, Maggie and Giselle.

I look to Lemon. “Yeah, I know them all. I kind of have to as part of my job—”

“Wait. I have an amazing idea,” Olivia says over me. “We should totally invite them to come out and party with us tonight!”

“Yes!”

“I am so in.”

“Oh, yes. Poppy, please.”

“No,” I say loudly, my smile falling. “Sorry ladies, but that’s not happening.”

“Why not?” Lemon whines.

Why not? Because I respect my players enough to not treat them like sporty blowup dolls for a drunk bachelorette party to play with and then discard.

I think this. I don’t say it.

More possessively, the thought sneaks through the back of my mind that hell will literally freeze over before I let Violet and her friends flirt with Colton or Lukas in front of me. Anderson she can have, and good riddance. She’s not touching them.

“Sorry, ladies,” I say again, the lie slipping from my lips. “I think they have a game tonight.”

They grumble their disappointment. Giselle and Olivia lament that it’s too far a drive to get to Miami. When I hear whispers of the word “charter jet,” I glance anxiously over to Tina. Ever a clutch friend, she clears her throat. “So, Poppy, what’s on the agenda for tonight?”

Flashing her a smile of thanks, I stand up. “Well ladies, I’ve planned out a super fun evening. We’ll start the night with dinner over at O.C. White’s. They have a gorgeous outdoor patio with live music and great food. Then we’ll hop along a couple of the bars on St. George’s Street that always do karaoke and dancing. I thought we’d end the night with a round of boozy popsicles and twinkle light carriage rides!”

“Oooor,” sings Olivia, getting to her feet too. “We could play a fun little game of…Naughty Bachelorette Bingo!!” All the other girls squeal as she pulls out a stack of hot pink cards from inside her tote. She passes them around to more excited chatter.

“Maggie, did you see this one?” Giselle points to something on the card that has them both breaking into a fit of giggles.

Tina gets a card next, and I watch her eyes scan it. “Jesus,” she mutters. Okay, if the edgy club-owning bartender is worried, I’m gonna go ahead and up my own anxiety level to a cool DEFCON 3.

“Oh, Livy,” Lemon cries. “We are not playing this!”

“Yes, we are,” says Olivia. “Listen up, ladies. First to bingo is gonna win five hundred dollars. First to double bingo wins five thousand!”

The girls all cheer as Olivia comes to stand in front of me. Her smile is triumphant as she holds out a bingo card. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna play, Poppy. We all know this kind of game isn’t your idea of fun.”

“Yeah, ’cause she’s a stick in the mud,” Violet shouts, already tipsy.

Lemon glances between us, confused. “Vi, I thought you said your sister was an insufferable prude, and that’s why Anderson dumped her?”

I slowly turn to stare at my sister. Oh, is that the story we’re going with?

Violet just laughs.

“Lem, honey, that’s what it means to be a stick in the mud,” Olivia teases, patting her arm.

“Yeah, Perfect Poppy would never be caught dead playing a game like this,” Violet adds. “She’s too good for us.”

“You should lighten up,” says Olivia, brushing my beach braid off my shoulder. “Life is more fun if you’re willing to be just a little bit bad.”

A few of the girls laugh and clink their glasses.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Poppy’s stick is in her ass,” Violet teases. “Anderson said he could feel it lodged up in there while they fucked!”

Olivia cackles. Some of the others laugh too, though they have the grace to look uncomfortable about it.

“Vi, you’re crazy,” says Maggie.

Heart racing, I just wait and pray for this to be over soon.

Violet shrugs, sloshing her champagne. “What? Some sisters share makeup and dresses. Poppy and I share a dick. It’s no big thing. Actually, well, with Anderson it is a big thing.” She winks at me. “You remember. Right, Pop? It’s got a little bend in it, like this.” She curls her finger. On that charming note, she stumbles away, her champagne glass raised in the air as she bops along to the music.

“Don’t worry, Poppy. You can be our DD,” Olivia says, stroking my face. “You’re such a thoughtful big sister.”

If only my eyes had freaking lasers. I lean away from her touch, snatching the bingo card from her hand. As soon as she turns away, I start reading the challenges. “Oh my—”

If I were wearing pearls right now, they would officially be clutched. By the time I scan the third row, I think my heart is gonna give out. I look frantically over to Tina. She just shakes her head.

“Time to get ready, bitches,” Olivia shouts. “Whip out your glitter and your sequins and everything pink because tonight’s party theme is Barbies!”

The girls all laugh and chatter, racing to their rooms to get ready.

Clutching my coconut water, I stand by helplessly and watch as the fun, tasteful evening I had planned goes up in smoke. It’s fitting, really. Because watching seven drunk women play this raunchy bingo game is about to become my own personal hell.