Forever Pucked (30 page)

Darren coughs. “You’re a classy bastard, Romero.”

Lance smiles, but it’s stiff. “The classiest.” He turns to me. “Anyway, it looks like you’re really going through with this whole wedding thing, aye?”

“The date’s set. We’re just finalizing details and ironing out the guest list.” I glance around the room. “Obviously you guys are all invited.”

Lance goes back to messing with the controller. “You uh…invitin’ Tash to your shindig?”

I figured the Tinder hook-ups meant he was over that, but maybe not. “Violet still talks to her, so she might extend the invitation. You gonna be okay with that?”

“For sure. We’re long over.” The tips of his ears go red, and he chugs the rest of his beer in three long swallows. I have a feeling there was a lot more going on between them than Lance ever owns up to.

“Found it!” Miller holds up a CD case.

On the cover is a picture of Sidney and Skye in their wedding outfits. Skye’s dress is…very Skye. It’s off-white, short, and tight. Violet gets her body from her mom. They’re both petite with big boobs. Skye wasn’t doing much to rein hers in for this picture.

“What’s that?” Randy asks.

“My dad and Skye’s wedding video.” Miller passes it to me.

“Just put it on.”

“Uhh…are you sure you want me to do that?”

“It’s fine. You were teenagers, right? It can’t be that bad.”

“If you say so.” Miller slides the CD into the slot, and we wait for the video to cue up. He fast-forwards through most of it until we get to the speeches.

“Nice tux, Butterson,” Lance says. “Where are you, Balls? Didn’t you two hang out in high school?”

“I was already in Toronto then. I got drafted to the farm team out there in my last year.”

Miller pauses the video on a grainy image of a much-younger Violet. “You sure you want to watch this with everyone here?”

“It’s fine.” I should know from Miller’s repeated questions that it’s not fine. But I keep telling myself it can’t be that bad, and they’re blowing it out of proportion. Violet can be dramatic at times.

“All right. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He hits play again.

The camera pans in on Violet. Her face is softer, rounder. Her long hair is pulled up into an intricate ponytail, and curled tendrils frame her face. I totally would have wanted to date her in high school. I bet all the guys had boners over her. I’m conflicted by the reaction in my pants, because she’s way underage in this video. She’s wearing glasses. They’re purple with little rhinestone decorations on the side.

“Holy shit? Is that Vi?” Lance asks.

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I gotta say, Butterson, I’m surprised you didn’t try to hit that. I mean, convenience factor aside, she was a hot nerd! And look at her boobs. Is it just me or are they bigger there?” Everyone turns to stare at him. “Uh, let’s pretend I didn’t say any of that.”

“Good call.”

“But I’m still surprised Butterson didn’t try to bone her. Or you.” He points at Randy.

“Do you have a death wish, Romero?” Darren asks.

“I didn’t meet Violet until this year,” Randy says.

“Violet was too busy being a Mathlete to hang out with me when our parents got married, and Randy was already in the minors getting his bunny on,” Miller says. “I was gonna set you up with her when she and Alex were on the outs back in May.”

I throw my hands up. “What the fuck, Miller?”

He shrugs. “You were being a dick and listening to your stupid agent. Violet was fucking miserable, moping around, eating dairy. I thought she might need a distraction.”

“So you thought hooking her up with Ballistic was a reasonable option?”

“Hey, I’m a good guy,” Randy says in his own defense.

“Calm your tits, Waters. She never went out with him, or anyone else, while you were on your break. She couldn’t even manage saying Randy’s name without thrusting.”

I have to say, I’m damn glad Violet never went out with Ballistic. He is a good guy, but from the stories Violet tells me, he and Lily have more sex than feral rabbits. I’d like to think my bedroom skills are better than his, but I’m very glad Violet has no firsthand knowledge as to whether or not that’s true.

“Oh! This is it.” Miller turns up the volume.

There’s a whispered conversation in which it sounds like Violet is arguing with her mom. She huffs and takes off her glasses, folding them neatly on the table before she pushes back her chair. She adjusts her dress—there’s a lot of cleavage—and stands.

“Jesus. How old is Violet here?” Lance asks.

“I think she was turning seventeen or something,” Miller replies.

“Man, I wish the chicks in my Mathletes club had looked like that.”

“Shut the fuck up, Romance, before Alex breaks your nose.”

“Right. Sorry.”

I grunt but say nothing because he’s right. I would’ve given my left nut to sit next to her in math class and pretend I didn’t know what the fuck was going on so I could look down her shirt while she explained things. Violet’s the kind of girl who would’ve been helpful like that in high school.

She’s wearing one of those super formfitting dresses, and it’s short—like, way too short for a bridesmaid’s dress, hitting her high on her thigh. It must be a guy on the camera because he zooms out so he can get her entire, smokin’ hot, highly illegal body to fit in the shot. There’s a long lace train thing hanging off the back of the dress that drags on the floor.

Violet’s wearing silver platform heels. She’s obviously unaccustomed to them. She teeters unsteadily and holds onto the back of the chair. Signature red blotches break out across her chest—her very ample, not-covered-enough chest. She brushes a fallen tendril out of her face and squints, because she can’t see very well without her glasses.

She takes a couple of shuffling steps before she squares her shoulders, jutting out her chest. The dress seems to be slipping down. She hikes it up again and stutter-steps across the stage. Those heels are way too high.

Miller is standing at the bottom of the steps to the left of the podium. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he waits for Violet to come down. On the second one, her heel catches the lace train, and she careens forward, head-butting Miller in the junk. He, in turn, stumbles back. He might’ve been able to recover if Violet hadn’t grabbed his tuxedo jacket and rammed her shoulder into his knee.

“Wow, she’s not very graceful, is she?” Randy mumbles.

Miller bumps into the table holding the three-tiered wedding cake. It rocks forward and then topples off the back.

As if this isn’t bad enough, Violet scrambles to right herself, but her heel is still caught in the back of her dress. It pulls the whole thing down. And there they are: her boobs.

Miller hits pause instead of stop, so the video freezes on a shot of Violet’s exposed chest.

“Shit! Sorry! I meant to hit stop before that happened!”

The young Miller on the screen is wide eyed and horrified, just like the one currently in three dimensions. He steps in front of the TV to block the view. Thankfully everyone is looking either at the ceiling or their hands.

“So, um, I guess this kind of explains Violet’s aversion to weddings, huh?” Randy asks.

That she’s agreed to any kind of actual ceremony with people in attendance is a true miracle.

I clear my throat. “I think it goes without saying that this stays under the cone.”

There’s murmured agreement and some uncomfortable shifting around.

I definitely need to get my mom to back off. I wait until Darren and I are in his car before I call my mom and gently, but firmly, tell her to stop looking for alternate venues, because the Chicago cottage is where Violet and I are getting married.

She might be disappointed, but she agrees to cease with the texting torture. At least that’s one issue resolved.

-&-

The next few weeks are full of PT, training, and planning the wedding. I gain a lot of ground, though I still don’t get to be on the ice with the rest of the team for games. And we don’t make it past the first round of playoffs. It’s a challenge to watch my teammates beat themselves up over the loss, especially when we were on such a high last year.

Ultimately, I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. We’ll have a longer off-season, with more time to recuperate and train. I’m trying to see the positive in the situation.

My ongoing issue once again has to do with my mom and her wedding interference. She’s switched tactics from alternate venues to expanding the guest list, two “very important friends” at a time. Every other day she sends me another message asking if so and so can be added to the list.

I shut her down, and then Violet feels bad for making me be the bad guy and ends up texting her back to say yes. On the up side, I’ve gotten a lot of blow jobs in the past few weeks. However, I have guilt over them, so I always return the favor with some kind of orgasm.

Today I get a text from my mom with yet
another
guest-addition request as I’m walking in the door after a particularly intense physical therapy session.

I don’t know if I should even bother to say anything to Violet about it as I text my mom back with a no. I find Violet on the couch with her Mac in her lap. At first I assume she’s doing something work-related, although usually she does that in her office. Maybe she needed a change of scenery.

She must be engrossed in her research, because she bursts into a fit of laughter, punctuated by a snort.

“Whatcha doin’?”

She looks up from the screen. “You need to see this!”

I sit beside her, ready to be entertained by whatever’s on the screen. It’s not what I expect.

“Uh…why am I looking at someone’s dick? And why does it have a face on it?”

Violet rolls her eyes. “Seriously? You watch internet porn all the time.”

“No, I don’t.” I watch it occasionally, especially when I’m away from home and don’t have access to Violet—usually in the bathroom with headphones on while I’m pretending to take an extra-long shower.

“Lies. I see your browser history. You need to stop with the Area 51 porn. It’s never going to happen.”

It’s my turn with the wide eyes. I always clear my browser history.

Violet shakes her head. “So transparent. Anyway, check this out! I was looking for costume designs for the Super MC, and I found this.” She points to the smiley-faced dick. “This guy draws a face on his dick—and arms and stuff—and puts it in scenarios. And now he’s started dressing him up! People make his dick clothes, just like I made yours a cape!”

“And a Christmas costume; don’t forget that.”

“That was so much fun. Don’t worry, I have something special planned for the wedding night.”

“I’m sure that part will be awesome.” I drape my arm over the back of the couch and slip my hand under her hair.

“Oh, it will. No accidental suffocation. Anyway, this guy has all sorts of chicks sending him stuff, and look at how tiny his doodle is!” Violet points to the screen.

“I don’t think it’s fair to call it tiny.”

“He’s hard.”

“I think maybe your perspective is skewed because of my dick.”

She shrugs. “You may have a point. I hope he’s good with his tongue. Anyway, check this out.” She scrolls through page after page of some guy’s dick doing ridiculous things.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“We should do it with Super MC! Imagine how much more exciting it would be with your huge dick.”

“I’m not posting dressed-up dick pics on the internet, Violet.”

“Well, can I at least make a photo album?”

“Of my dick?”

“It’ll be fun.”

“You’re crazy.”

“That’s why you love me.” She closes the laptop and moves it to the coffee table, then straddles my lap. I take her glasses off, set them on the arm of the couch, and pull the tie from her hair, setting it free. It tumbles over her shoulders in loose waves.

“We could start now.” She searches my pocket for my phone. “Did you know Balls and Lily make videos?”

“Pardon?”

“Randy and Lily. They make videos so he has something to jack off to when he’s gone for away games.”

“What kind of videos?”

Violet arches a brow. “What kind do you think?”

“How do you know that?” I seriously hope she hasn’t seen one.

“She told me. And she showed me one.”

“She showed you a sex video?”

“We might overshare a lot of information, but not that much, Alex. He made a video that time he came to Guelph to see her. She’d fallen asleep on him, and I guess part of the deal was no sleeping, so he videoed her.”

“He made a video of Lily while she was sleeping?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not creepy. It was sweet and kinda hot.” Violet gets this faraway look in her eye before she shakes her head. “Anyway, he made a video of him waking her up.”

“I don’t understand why that’s hot or what it has to do with sex videos.”

“Well, he was waking her up to have sex again. And it ends on a kiss.” She flutters a hand in front of her face. “Anyway, we should make some videos like that.”

“I don’t think we should use your phone if we do, since you’ve lost two in the past year.”

“We could use your phone since you don’t lose yours.”

“We could.” I’m totally down with making sex videos with Violet. I’ll have to watch them wearing headphones since she’s exuberant in bed, but I can live with that. I would love to make a video of me sliding my dick between her tits.

Just as I’m about to suggest this, my phone lights up in her hand.

Based on the way her face falls, I’m betting it’s another text from my mom. “Let me guess, two more guests?” I skim her sides until I reach the hem of her shirt. “I already told her no.”

“What are we up to now?”

“Sixty-eight.”

“Might as well make it an even seventy.”

I slip one hand under her shirt and grab the phone before she can key in the code and respond. “We’re not going to deal with that right now.”

“She’ll start texting me soon, and you know it.”

“So let her text.” I push Violet’s shirt up until a boob pops out. She’s wearing black lace. She doesn’t own a lot of black lingerie, so when she wears it I get super excited. I don’t know why. It does something to me—just like when she wears her Marvel Comics underwear.