Crew (Hockey Royalty #3)

3. Liv

Chapter 3

Liv

“Y ou look hot,” Tenley insists and swats at my hand as I tug on the top of this scandalously skimpy strapless dress. It’s hers and I have no idea why I let her talk me into wearing it. “Stop fussing and drink your drink.”

I put the chocolate espresso martini to my lips and sip. Tenley has already finished one and is on her second. She's wearing an equally teeny dress but in a loud fluorescent pink color. Her long thick blonde hair is slicked up into a high, lush ponytail. Her makeup looks like a fairy barfed glitter all over her but in a good way. She glows. She looks like a supermodel. I'm pretty sure I look like her little sister playing dress-up. I feel like it. And I keep wanting to rub my eyes but that will smear all the black liner Mallory spent half an hour applying on me.

I sip the martini again. It’s dangerously delicious. I’m not a big drinker. I stick to wine and beer normally because when I was seventeen Tenley and my other cousin Harlow snuck a pitcher of spicy margaritas off the outdoor bar at the family Fourth of July barbecue and I got drunk for the first time and barfed for three hours. Spicy margarita out the nose? Zero stars. Do not recommend.

"So, like, are you sure you're good?" Tenley asks over the din of the music. "Because I'm cool with heading back to the room, ordering room service, and?—"

“No you aren’t,” I interrupt and swallow down the anger I feel bubbling up toward my nearest and dearest relative. “You’ve been looking forward to this trip since Tate mentioned it at the beginning of the summer. You invited yourself, without even asking him. You had a bucket list of things to do on this trip. Dance till dawn, pool shenanigans, find an Elvis impersonator, and possibly get a tattoo.”

“I know, but like, now that we’re here?—”

“Ten. Stop!” It comes out as forcefully as I feel it but not at all how I wanted it to come out. I hate being angry at her. I hate being angry at everything, which I am. Ever since the attempted mugging, or whatever the hell that was, I have been furious with myself and everything around me.

Her big blue eyes are wide and her face has gone so slack that her dimples, which are always visible because she's always got some version of a smile on her drop-dead-gorgeous face, are gone. I take another sip of the drink, bigger this time, and collect my thoughts. "I will feel worse about everything if I ruin this trip for you. So please, just be Tenley, my overbearing, terrifyingly bold favorite cousin, and let me figure out what I need to be or do on my own, okay?"

She seems skeptical but nods and then clinks her glass to mine. She turns back to survey the bodies bumping and grinding on the other side of the velvet rope that has us sectioned off in a VIP area. Well, one of the VIP areas. This club is gigantic with multiple levels and VIP areas. So many that we have yet to find Tate. He went for a guys’ dinner and was going to meet us here, but we gave up trying to shove our way through the masses and slid into this space for drinks.

"Look! There's Tater Tot!" Tenley points into the crowd. Despite the mass of humanity, I pick out Tate right away. He's with two of his teammates. They're all dressed in ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. Tate's is red and pink and it's the least ugly one of the bunch. I think they look like idiots but I'm also appreciative of it because I can find them in crowds easier. I know none of them know me because I don't go to games or help out at Quake charity events like Tenley does, but if I get lost tonight and see someone with one of those shirts I know I can say "I'm Devin Garrison's daughter. Tate's cousin." And no matter how drunk each one of his teammates will help me out.

There are about ten Quake players who came on the trip. Word seems to have gotten out that the Stanley Cup champs are in Sin City because as Tate and his teammates cut their way through the crowd, a lot of very pretty women stare and point. I see one lean in and say something to Tate, her hand on his shoulder. He nods and smiles but keeps walking.

I look over at Mallory who is sipping her cocktail on the other side of Tenley. She glances at me with a smile. “I trust him.”

“You guys have something real. Something strong.”

“Yeah.” Mallory smiles. “Tate’s it for me.”

Her eyes are clear and bright. Her smile genuine and filled with confidence. Tenley groans. “Do not placate her fantasies.”

“What are her fantasies?” Mallory asks.

“That she’s going to find Prince Charming right out of the gate.” Tenley turns so her back is to me, like she and Mallory are having this conversation in a room I’m not even in. “She doesn’t want to kiss a toad in case it’s the wrong toad. I’ve been trying to tell her for years that you gotta kiss a couple frogs on this quest of hers to find Prince Charming. And that sometimes the frogs can be fun.”

Mallory laughs. “Are you saying Liv hasn’t had a boyfriend? Like ever? Are you… have you been kissed?”

Mallory is staring at me like I’m an Amish girl off the farm for the first time. I roll my eyes and give Tenley a little shove. “Yes. I’ve been kissed. I’ve had boyfriends.”

“Two. And you never went past third base.”

“Ten!”

"Really?" Mallory is genuinely shocked, reaffirming the fact I've been living with —an almost twenty-three-year-old virgin is unheard of.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap and swallow half the martini in one gulp. “Next round’s on me.”

I turn and head to the bar.

* * *

Three hours and two more martinis later, I’m on the dance floor. Me. Little timid Liv Garrison is shaking my ass to some song by someone other than Taylor Swift, who is my go-to. I think this is Swift-adjacent though as it might be Ed Sheeran? I am too tipsy to figure it out. Tenley is watching me with wide eyes and a laugh on her lips. Even drunk I know it’s a positive laugh, not a negative one. She’s in awe. So is Tate, I think, as he’s over at the railing of the VIP area staring at me too. His eyes as wide as his sister’s but he’s not smiling. He looks rather concerned. Probably about the guy who is plastered to my backside.

I think he said his name is Gavin. Maybe? It was hard to hear over the music. But he’s cute and he has a nice smile. I feel his hand on my hip now and I fight the urge to stiffen. I keep swinging my hips. This is what I want. This is why I came here. Tenley spins in front of me, arms in the air. Gavin’s friend is beside her dancing away. He’s touching her too and Tenley isn’t stressed about it. Tate also isn’t watching his sister like a hawk, just me.

"Hey!" I hear in my ear and turn my head a little to lock eyes with Gavin. His eyes are brown, rich, and deep. They seem kind. Please let them be kind. "Wanna grab a drink at the bar upstairs? Away from that giant dude who is trying to dismember me with his eyeballs."

I glance up at Tate and glare at him momentarily before turning my back on him to face my new friend. “That would be lovely.”

“What?” he shouts back because the music is deafening.

I take his hand in mine, alcohol making me much bolder than I am. “Let’s go!”

We don’t make it more than five steps when I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s not Tate’s though, which surprises me. It’s Tenley. “Where ya going?” she asks casually, but her tone isn’t light.

“For a drink somewhere more private.” Oh God, that sounds so mature and racy. I mean, probably not to other people, but coming out of my virginal mouth, yeah. It’s shocking. Tenley’s blue eyes widen and I know I’m right. I lean closer to her. “Tate is freaking him out.”

“I know you don’t come out with us much, but girl code is no one leaves alone,” Tenley announces.

“I’m not alone. I’m with Gavin,” I tell her. “And I’m not leaving. Just going upstairs. Away from my ridiculously over-protective cousin. Or is it cousins, plural?”

"Dude, Tate Garrison is your cousin?" the guy behind Tenley interjects. He literally has cartoon stars in his eyes he is so star-struck. "He was incredible in the playoffs this year. I don't think the Quake would have won a Cup without him."

“Yeah he’s a total hockey rockstar,” Tenley says, her flat tone and the roll of her eyes indicating her sarcasm. “I’m coming with you, Liv.”

“Third wheel, much?”

I’m annoyed but deep down in the depths of my soul, the part I’m currently trying to kill with alcohol and bad decisions, that part of me sighs in relief at her declaration.

“Do you know him too?” the guy with Tenley asks. “Could you introduce me?”

“Do you want to possibly get lucky tonight? Or do you want to meet Tater Tot Garrison?” Tenley asks. “You don’t get both.”

Thankfully the guy doesn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

Gavin starts leading me through the crowds, off the dance floor, and to a small staircase in the corner. The upstairs of the club is walled off with plexiglass. It has chairs and couches, like the VIP area, but bigger as it runs the whole back wall of the club and is just as packed as the dance floor but less noisy.

I let him guide me to a corner by the bar. I jump up onto a bar stool and hope it looks graceful or at the very least cute. My feet are killing me and I just want to sit down. Tenley slips into the spot between me and the next stool, leaning on the bar. "You okay?"

“Yes,” I whisper back. “Why?”

“Because you aren’t acting like yourself,” Tenley explains what I already know. “Liv doesn’t get tipsy and dance with strangers and try to sneak off with them.”

“I’m not sneaking anywhere,” I argue. “I told you where I was going. And I’m a grown adult, Ten. Older than you. Maybe it’s time everyone started letting me grow up.”

Tenley blinks and her eyes shift to Gavin who is talking to the guy who followed Tenley up here, Tate's fanboy. They're waiting for the bartender to notice them and take their order. She looks back down at me. She's taller than me by an inch or two but tonight she's wearing heels that are two inches taller than mine. She's a freaking skyscraper. "No one wants to stop you from growing up Liv. In fact, no one thinks of you as not grown up. What's going on?"

“I’m just living.” I shrug.

“What will it be ladies?” Gavin asks.

“Water. Sparkling,” Tenley says and looks at me.

“Chocolate espresso martini.”

“Liv, I—” I glare at Tenley and she immediately stops talking and looks away.

The guys order two beers, my martini, and Tenley’s water. Gavin drops an arm around my shoulders. “What hotel are you at? We’re at Bellagio. We each have our own rooms.”

They look mighty proud of that fact. Also, I'm not so naive I don't know if it's an invitation of sorts. "What are you here for?"

“Work conference,” Gavin tells me. “I’m a doctor and I’m here for a medical conference.”

“Doctor?” Tenley interrupts, like she’s part of the conversation. “How old are you guys?”

"I'm thirty," Gavin tells her. He takes a small but noticeable step back as his gaze ping-pongs from Tenley to me. "Why? How old are you two?"

“I’ll be twenty-three next month,” I volunteer. “She’s almost twenty-two.”

His shoulders drop and he steps into me again. His smile is gentle. “That’s cool. I was worried you were underage or something. You live in Vegas?”

“Los Angeles,” Tenley says for me.

“But I’m from Maine.” I always feel the need to tell people that. Maybe it’s because Los Angeles, even after four years of school, doesn’t feel like home yet.

“Silver Bay, Maine,” Tenley’s guy says proudly because of course he knows where his favorite hockey player is from. He is still bursting with excitement. “So, wait, is your dad one of the famous Garrison brothers? Or the brother who didn’t make the NHL? Or are you from his mom’s side of the family?”

“Both,” I volunteer even though Tenley looks like she’d rather we were talking about anything else. “My dad is Devin Garrison, Tate’s dad’s oldest brother. My mom is also Tate’s mom’s sister.”

I can literally see the dude trying to build the family tree in his brain. Tenley sighs as the bartender places the drinks on the bar top. “It sounds incestuous but it’s not. Can we talk about something interesting now?”

Tenley grabs my drink off the bar, leaving me with her sparkling water. I glare at her. She ignores me. The guy is not giving up. “Wait, you’re a Garrison too?”

“Yep,” Tenley replies and sips my drink. She ignores him and turns to me. “I’m going back down to the VIP area. Come with me or give me your phone.”

My phone? I look at Gavin. He seems nice. And I like that he’s not a drunken frat boy. I don’t know what kind of doctor he is, but I’m sure he’s very aware of how the body works, how STDs are transmitted, and the best way to have safe sex, right? I want this kind of responsibility in a sex partner. Yeah, he’s the one, I guess.

“What are you going to do with my phone,” I ask as I reach into my purse because I’ve made the decision to stay. To go back to Gavin’s room with him and hopefully have an enjoyable time, while also dumping this stupid v-card.

Tenley looks shocked that I’m handing over my phone. She doesn’t reach for it at first, but then she sighs in resignation and plucks it from my hand. She flashes it at me to get the face ID to work, and then she starts doing something. I’m not worried. There’s sadly nothing to hide on my phone. I make the occasional Instagram post, call my parents, and partake in the family WhatsApp chats. That’s it. Oh, and read books on my Kindle app.

She hands back my phone. "I'm tracking you. So if you don't make it back to me, or back to the hotel in the next hour I am?—"

“Calling the police?”

“Worse,” Tenley replies. “Your dad, mom, and all the cousins. Group Chat Amber Alert.”

“Jesus Ten, chill,” I hiss and Gavin and his buddy both look mildly amused.

“Hey, I’ll kidnap her myself for a chance to meet the entire Garrison family,” the friend jokes. At least I hope it’s a joke.

“Dude, not funny,” Gavin warns his buddy.

Tenley ignores them both. “I mean it, Liv. Love you. Make good choices.”

“You sound like my mother,” I quip. Mom does say that to Conner and Mae but not to me. She realizes I’m too chicken to make any choice other than the smart one. Well, not tonight.

Tenley turns and leaves with my martini without another word. I have to fight the very strong urge to chase after her and retreat to the safe space that is the VIP area with my cousins and friends. But I’m not getting laid if I do that, so I stay glued to the bar stool with Gavin smiling down at me on one side and his friend looking like a kicked puppy on the other.

“She really just bailed on me?” his friend says, stunned.

"I don't know much when it comes to dating but I do know, as a Garrison woman, the fastest way to lose our interest is to be more excited about our hockey-playing siblings than us," I tell him and take a sip of Tenley's water. The water is refreshing and probably what I physically need right now, but it's not going to do anything for my waning confidence.

How do women do this? I feel like I'm at the front of my high school auditorium in the middle of graduation, naked. I lean over and order a shot of Fireball from the bartender. As I drop back down onto my stool, and Gavin consoles his friend about Tenley shunning him, I notice a guy a few feet away at the bar. He's staring right at me with a smirk. It's a fetching smirk, to say the least. The kind that is warm and filled with mischief. He looks away to wave the bartender over. The smirky dude has dirty blond, almost brown hair longer and tousled on top but short on the sides. His frame is very broad and toned. His eyes aren't dark but not light. It’s the best description I can muster in the low light from this distance.

He’s got tattoos decorating every inch of both his arms. I can’t make out any of them because of the lighting and they’re all black ink. They’re pretty though. He looks… like a Hollywood version of some kind of anti-hero hero. The bad guy that the good girl reforms because his heart was never as dark as he, or the viewer, thought.

I’m staring so I blink and look away when I realize Hollywood Anti-Hero is watching me again. Gavin’s friend is walking away now. The bartender plunks a full shot of Fireball in front of me and I reach for my wallet but she waves me off. “Paid for.”

“Oh.” I smile, and she struts off to make the next drink. I lift the shot glass to Gavin. “Thank you.”

I gulp it, shiver, and purse my lips. Gavin chuckles. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t buy it. I mean, I would have, but I didn’t.”

I shiver again. "Well, who then?"

He leans into me. He smells like pine trees and tobacco but not because he smokes. It must be in his cologne. His breath is minty. “I don’t know who bought it, but I think I should stake a claim before we find out.”

The next thing I know Gavin’s lips are on mine. It’s not an awful kiss. It’s not aggressive or sloppy. I should be enjoying this. But I feel instantly uncomfortable. Angry, even. My whole body tenses, like it did that night when I was suddenly thrown to the ground. I even smell the wet grass from that night in my nostrils somehow. I swear to God every muscle in my body is stone. I can’t even move my lips. I’m so fucking angry, not at Gavin. He’s just shooting his shot on someone who acted like they were a willing target.

I am! I am a willing target! My head screams at my angry heart and terrified soul. I am willing! I want this. He’s the perfect candidate. Why am I freaking out? I slip off the stool, which brings me closer to Gavin who moves a hand around my back and that’s when I feel the flight part of my rollercoaster of emotions wash over me. Nothing is stone anymore. Every muscle is moving—away from him.

“Bathroom!” I call out way too loud and then I’m blindly pushing through the crowd away from the bar, away from Gavin.

I stumble down the stairs, almost tripping, clutching the railing with white knuckles. I see the hallway where the washrooms are located to the left of the staircase and I march toward them as fast as I can without running. My vision blurs and I wipe away the tears tumbling out of my eyes and ruining the make-up Mallory helped me apply.

I am a few feet from the women's restroom sign, and of course, there's a line so I panic and turn the other way. I'm just going to leave the club, maybe even Las Vegas. I never should have come. I…

Smash! My entire body hits a wall. A warm, but hard wall.