“Maybe.”
Andreas grins. “Yay, Moo is coming. Hey, I’m gonna double-check with Crab to see if he’s still planning on dropping by.”
Elliot lets out the deepest sigh.
“Come on, old man,” Adam says and gives Elliot’s ear a flick. “Four point game. Captain of a hockey team. You’re a catch. You gotta put yourself out there.”
“Hey, I agreed to come to the party, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. But when you did it, you looked like you wanted to stab us. We’re trying to help. You keep telling me that you’re lo–”
“I’m not lonely.”
“Well, then sexually frustrated. Same difference.”
“I will pay you to stop talking,” Elliot says.
“Really, how much?”
Elliot almost throws his jock at him. Almost, because he’s a good captain and Adam is his best friend, and maybe he deserves it, but he also doesn’t want to subject the locker room to Adam screeching like a little kid.
“Hey,” Adam says and leans over, keeping his voice low, “do you want me to come over before the party and help you pick something to w–”
Elliot has a sock off his foot so fast that Adam doesn’t have time to duck out of the way before Elliot slaps it right into his face.
“MOO!”
“You deserved that one,” Elliot says.
“Hey, Elliot?”
“Yeah?”
Tara, one of their social media people, holds up a phone. “Could you say ‘Happy New Year’ to our fans real quick?”
“Yeah, for sure,” Elliot says. “Anything in particular you want me to say?”
“No, you just go for it,” Tara says.
It’s Elliot’s least favorite thing to hear. He isn’t bad at talking to the media, not at all, but he likes doing stuff like this a lot better when they give him clear instructions. Tara usually does a few takes, so Elliot tries a few different things, says he hopes everyone is safe out there tonight, says he hopes they’ll see them all at the arena next year, thanks them for supporting them, even does one with Adam, who gives him bunny ears.
“Are you using that one?” Adam asks.
Tara smiles at him, like you might look at a small child who asked you if the Easter Bunny is real. “No, but I’m sure it’ll go into the outtakes compilation that we’re planning on doing.”
“Outtakes,” Adam mutters and trots away to take a shower.
#
Elliot puts on a striped shirt for the party, because when he doesn’t know what to wear and a suit it too fancy, a striped shirt is usually a good idea. He puts on jeans, dismissing the thought that he could be on his couch in sweatpants. His hair is… curly. Messy. As always. He had the sides cut a little shorter and he likes it well enough. His mom is still appalled every time she sees him.
Adam comes by to pick him up, in a cab, because he’s not driving, but he clearly doesn’t trust Elliot to actually show up at the party if he doesn’t have an escort. Elliot wouldn’t trust himself either. Lou smiles at him when he slides into the cab and tells him he looks nice. She looks nice, too. Sparkly.
The party is in a penthouse on the Upper East Side, the place already teeming with people, mostly girls. One of them detaches herself when they arrive – she’s tall, blonde, her teeth so white they seem to sparkle with her silver dress. “Hey, Andy’s teammates. Glad you could come. I’m Chrissie.”
“Oh, hey!” Andy’s girlfriend comes over as well, clearly a few drinks ahead of them.
“Hey, Carly,” Lou says and hugs her, their dresses sparkling together.
“Come on in, Elliot, Adam, you look dashing, come meet my friends,” she says and ushers them further into the apartment. She very quickly introduces them to about fifteen girls, whose names Elliot has no chance of remembering, then she hands them over to Chrissie, who offers them drinks, then food, and then darts off to greet more guests.
The party is thankfully big enough that no one will notice if Elliot tucks himself into a corner with a plate full of food. It’s all excellent, probably from a catering company. He doesn’t want to know how much it cost, because even with the money he makes now, he doesn’t understand how some people spend theirs so freely, when he’s more concerned with saving it all up for whatever comes after his playing career is over. He bought the apartment, but that was his only expensive purchase, apart from the stuff he bought for his mom and dad.
Whoever lives in this apartment – probably Carly’s friend, although maybe her parents own the place – likely has a few more millions to spend than Elliot does. It’s all marble and golden picture frames, soft carpets, and dishes that most certainly didn’t come from IKEA, like Elliot’s.
They eat, Elliot gets himself another drink and talks to two Broadway actors, one of which practically undresses Elliot with his eyes. Elliot shoots him a smile, then excuses himself, because he can’t walk out of here with a guy. The idea is… Shit, he loves the idea of taking that guy home, even though he’s not really Elliot’s type, and it bugs him that he can’t.
“What crawled up your ass?” Adam asks when Elliot returns to him.
“Nothing,” Elliot says. Which might be part of the problem.
“Okay, so…” Adam nods across the room. “What about her? Red dress. Veeeery high heels. She’s single. Ready to mingle.”
“How do you know?”
“Lou gave me a scouting report.”
Lou apparently also fled the scene after delivering said report, which was pretty smart of her, considering that Adam agreed that he’d leave Elliot the fuck alone with this.
“She’s hot,” Adam says.
“Are you allowed to say that? You’re married.”
“If Lou is allowed to sit in front of our TV
