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The Boys 'Round Here

Four

John wiped his hands on his shorts as he walked up Neal’s driveway. Already music and noise were coming from the backyard. John had resisted the urge to be early - like hours early - and arrived twenty minutes after James told him the party would start. So what if he’d had to drive around the neighborhood a few times first? He let himself in and made his way through the house.

A handful of people had already arrived. Some had claimed chairs around the pool while most were still saying hello near the coolers set up along the steps from the deck to the yard. At the end of the porch, James was manning the grill while a few other guys looked on.

“John!”

Meghan hadn’t meant to sound surprised. Of course John was here - she was expecting him. Kind of almost waiting for him, actually, even if she didn’t admit it to herself until she saw him in the back doorway. Was he looking for her? He wore a short-sleeve button down shirt with small red and blue checks, open only one button at his throat when it should have been two. A little too prim. The khaki cargo shorts fit great, finished by flip flops. His slightly shaggy hair brushed the tops of his ears. The whole thing was one ribbon belt shy of a J Crew catalog.

“Hey. Hi.” John felt the biggest goober smile appear on his face like a billboard lightning up. Meghan was coming toward him, carrying a barbeque lighter in one hand and the handles of two bucket-shaped citronella candles in the other. She wore a yellow dress, a casual cotton number that looked both thrown-on and completely incredible. The v-neck was accented by buttons running down the center, as if he wasn’t already looking at her perfect breasts. Thin shoulder straps made it clear she had no tan lines up top. It clung to her waist, stopped at mid-thigh and swung jauntily from her hips as she walked. John pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth to keep it from rolling out.

The last thing Meghan had done was give John a very quick, very chaste goodbye hug at the bar. After two nearly-missed kisses she had thought it best to turn down his offer to drive her home. When she and James fought the next morning, Meghan knew she’d been right. But John just kept turning up.

“Can I help?” His hand brushed hers as he took the candles without waiting for an answer. Meghan held her breath as John passed closest, the faint, clean smell of his cologne reaching her nose. Or maybe it was his soap. Could his skin smell like that? Would it all smell like that? Was now really the best time to think about it? She cleared her throat.

“Yeah, thanks,” Meghan said, but he was already out the door.

John went right to the table and put down the candles. He had to get out of there or he would have kissed her. This was becoming a problem. He liked Meghan as a person too, not just someone to lust after, but it was getting so he couldn’t talk to her. Two days had done nothing to diminish the effect - in fact, it was getting worse. He pushed one candle to each end and headed for the grill.
____

Meghan circulated through the party, playing hostess. She knew almost everyone, which meant only a few people gave her insinuating looks when they were told she lived there. Most of them were girls who’d be excited to find that James didn’t let a roommate stand in the way of his fun. He did, however, trust her to do the cooking.

“Hey Meg, we need ya!” he called.

John was standing right next to him, talking about something while sipping a bottle of beer and pretending not to watch Meghan. Her yellow dress was so easy to follow in the falling light. Big streaks of color still clawed at the horizon but stars were beginning to twinkle overhead. Meghan turned on another string of outdoor bulbs that had been woven into some of the railings and trees, then bounced their way.

“Out of the way, pecks,” she said, motioning to them. A few of the guys walked off but John and James stayed close as Meghan took the tongs and began examining the grilling effort. She flipped a few burgers, pressing them flat with the spatula to test how done they were. A metal basket on the top rack held veggies.

“These look good. Get a platter.”

James disappeared inside to get more food. John quickly grabbed a large blue plate from the table and held it out. Meghan loaded it up with burgers and dogs. Of course it’s John who helps, she thought even as it made her smile.

“What?” he smiled too, but just from nerves.

Meghan told herself to go on and be normal. It wasn’t her fault James got territorial, if that’s even what had sparked their fight. Just like it wasn’t John’s fault that she wanted to kiss him every ten minutes. A little flirting never killed anybody and John looked like he would die if she stopped.

“At the end of the summer, I’m going to award you the Lady Byng for being so polite.”

“Is there an awards ceremony?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Wear that dress.”

John deposited the platter on the table where hungry guests descended. That was a good line, he thought. Meghan had laughed. She was flirting with him again. Things were going pretty well, for something that was going nowhere. He moved some other dishes to make room for more food and turned to go back when someone shouted.

“There she is!”

Michael Del Zotto bounded across the deck and scooped a squealing Meghan up into his arms. His really big arms. He swung Meghan around, her feet kicking, before putting her down and planting a loud, wet kiss on her forehead.

“Hi honey!” he said.

“Hello yourself,” Meghan reached up and combed a handful of Michael’s unruly curls away from his face. She loved his hair - loved everything about him except that MDZ was an even bigger manwhore than James. Still there was something so genuine, so fun-loving about Michael that she could see why girls dropped their drawers over him. In his navy shorts and tight white t-shirt, looking at him could make a girl blush. He had a megawatt smile, a booming laugh and a body you could bounce quarters off of. “You look great!”

“So you’ll finally go out with me? Is this my year?”

“Out of the house, or out of my pants?” She poked his rock-solid abs.

“Well usually I get back to the house before pants come off, but we can do it your way.”

John gripped the edge of the table so hard his fingers tore the plastic tablecloth. Of course Del Zotto was here. He was tight with Stamkos and they trained together in the off-season, on top of what Stamkos did with Roberts. MDZ wasn’t in the Roberts program but he was a legend in this part of town for his off-season good times. John had been expecting he’d turn up sooner rather than later. He just didn’t like Michael heading straight for Meghan. Michael wasn’t just a ladies man, he was a New York Ranger. John fucking hated the Rangers.

James passed him with another dish of meat for the grill. John figured that was his opening. He followed Neal over and when James greeted Michael, John took the food and put it down next to Meghan.

“Thanks,” she said, still smiling. Her eyes sparkled. John wanted to vomit.

Meghan noticed the dark look on John’s face but kept her smile pasted on as she thought rapidly what it could be. Michael. Of course. He was such a showboat. And he was a Ranger. She tended to forget that sometimes on-ice feelings carried off the ice. Her experience said there was only one solution - to act like the season never happened. If John could get along with James after the playoffs, he could do the same Del Zotto. She laid out the chicken pieces, turned the veggies and put down the tongs.

“John, you know Michael, right?”

John’s eyes flashed, but Meghan held his gaze with a fierce look of her own. He caved and followed her lead. “Yeah, hey. How’s it going?”

“Tavares, eh? Good, buddy. You join this circus for the summer?” MDZ waved a hand toward the party like he owned the place.

“Yup. Training with Robs, all that.”

“Well you’re still upright, must be getting through days,” Michael joked, slapping John’s shoulder.

Meghan could tell from John’s stiff posture and tight jaw this wasn’t easy for him. Perhaps the nice guy had a little mean streak in him.

Turn on, her body said.

Shut up! her brain yelled.

Not a chance, her feet replied as they stepped up next to John’s, landing the rest of Meghan at his side. If he’d put his arm out, it would have gone right around her. The move was possessive and protective, two things that scared Meghan equally.

John felt her body against his and couldn’t help it - he smiled. MDZ’s eyebrows went up with zero subtlety. His generous mouth even turned down at the corners, like he was surprised and impressed at the same time.

“Getting through,” John nodded.

Behind Michael, James frowned. Meghan might as well have pulled a sword and left it pointing tip down into the porch like a warning.

“Alright,” Michael said, taking the hint and backing off. “Where’s the beer in this place?”

John and Meghan both turned back to the grill, each trying not to look at the other. Meghan didn’t know why she’d done that - MDZ was a big, harmless lug who didn’t give a shit what team anyone played for. John was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. But he’d looked so....

“Thanks,” he said quietly, embarrassed. What would he have done - left the party? Fought Del Zotto? No, he was going to swallow the pill and make friends with the guy, the way he’d done with a thousand other players since joining the League. Granted those guys hadn’t groped and propositioned Meghan first, so John thought he deserved a minute to collect himself.

“Sure,” she said, relieved the moment was over. “You, uh, don’t like him?”

John glanced from the corner of his eye and caught Meghan doing the same. Their eyes met. He shrugged lamely.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
____

John was getting bug spray out of his car when another set of tires rolled up. It was Steven, and he wasn’t alone.

Well somebody’s getting somewhere, John thought. Sure enough Steven hurried around the Mercedes to open the passenger door. His hand disappeared from view and came back holding someone else’s. She was about six inches shorter than Stamkos, dark hair swept into a high ponytail and bangs perfectly arranged across her face. The Girl Who Was Stalked.

She was laughing now, so she must have been over getting knocked to her ass in the bar. Steven levered the seat forward and helped another girl out of the back. This one had a shock of bleached blond hair, black micro shorts, a leopard print top and a wicked smile.

“Hey John!” Steven was obviously very happy.

“Hey man,” John shook his friend’s hand. “You must be Kaylynn.”

The girl with the bangs had startling blue eyes and beautiful fine features. John hadn’t been close enough to notice them before. She blushed a little at the suggestion that Steven had been talking about her.

“I remember you,” the blond girl said. “You were at the bar too.”

John held his hands up. “Just an accomplice.”

The girl smirked, eyeing him from head to toe. “Well you’re too pretty for prison. Got any more bad boys in this party?”
____

Later in the party, Meghan found herself alone at the side of the pool, her bare feet and legs submerged in the water. She kicked and cast shadows along the submerged walls. With a tap, a new cup of beer appeared at her side - followed by a huge pair of thighs and a white t-shirt.

“Your Highness,” Michael said, offering a toast. He always teased Meghan for looking like Kate Middleton, though the only real resemblance was a skinny girl with long brown hair. She tapped her plastic cup against his and sipped the foamy beverage.

“Are you saying I look pregnant?” she scoffed.

MDZ settled in nice and close to her side. “So, you miss me?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s so boring without you here. Only ugly guys wearing clothes that actually fit them and no one ever asks me for a blowjob.”

His laughed echoed across the water. “Your life, so hard.”

“Actually Nealer’s taken to wearing some pretty small shirts, so...,” she smiled. “Things are good, Michael. How are you?”

“Happy to be home.”

“How’s New York?” Meghan knew things had been had at the end of the Rangers’ season. The players, including Michael, had staged what amounted to a mutiny and gotten their coach fired. Their top-paid player, Brad Richards, had a beyond-terrible season and might have his contract bought out. In a media market like New York, little problems had a tendency to explode.

“Let’s just say New York and I are on a break. We’re free to date other people,” he said philosophically. “Back to my first love, Canadian girls.”

“Ahhh, the luck. New York has nothing on us.” Meghan bumped his shoulder.

Michael turned his head toward her. “I don’t know about that. It looked to me like New York had you there for a minute.”

Meghan smiled shyly. Of course John also played in New York, just not the same New York.

“What’s that about?” he asked.

“Nothing. We’re just friends. John’s not as...,” she searched for the word, “rowdy, as you guys. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t throw him in the pool or something.”

Michael chuckled. “I’m not gonna beat up your boyfriend, Meg.”

“He is not my boyfriend,” she said in a droning voice, for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Then there is hope for me yet.”

“Not tonight, hot shot. The friend of that girl Stamkos brought has been staring daggers at me since you came over here.” Meghan tipped her head toward the bar, where a knot of people were chatting.

Michael sighed and started lumbering to his feet. “Duty calls.” He helped Meghan up so they were both standing. “If she kills you, Tavares will die a virgin and I can’t have that on my conscience.”
____

John pretended not to watch MDZ and Meghan sitting together, talking like old friends. He pretended he hadn’t been on his way over to join her when Del Zotto swooped in. It wasn’t that John didn’t like the guy, but he was outmanned by Michael’s confidence. MDZ had swagger and Meghan seemed to like it. Even as he made her laugh with one last joke then went obviously off to claim another conquest, John felt like he could not compete. All these guys were cool - they had bravado and notches on bed posts and went by full first names like they were royalty: James, not Jimmy, Steven, Michael. John couldn’t have a nickname if he wanted to; John was the name given to unidentified dead bodies and guys who picked up hookers. Even his name was tragic.

“Dude. You are a sad puppy in a window right now.” The voice was Steven, who had detached from his date for the first time all night.

“How’s Kaylynn?” John tried to change the topic.

It worked. A moony look came over Steven’s face. John was the kind of guy that people talked to about feelings and fears, the way they couldn’t always talk to other male friends. “She’s fantastic. There’s not much yet, you know, she’s still holding back but I can tell I’m getting there.”

“Good for you,” John said honestly.

“What about Meghan? You think you wanna go for that, or...?”

“Or what?”

Steven scratched the very blond hair at the back of his very blond neck. “Or you think Neal might flip out a little? He was pretty off his game last night, couldn’t even close the deal with his girl.”

John’s heart was hammering. “You think he wants to close the deal with Meghan?”

“No, no way, man. If she wanted that she’d have had it years ago. Still, you walk in here, she gets all gooey over you and Nealer’s probably feeling like a chump.”

“Gooey?” John repeated.

Steven shrugged. “All I’m saying is Meghan’s one of us. There’s no breaking up with her.”

“What if she broke up with me?”

“Nope, you’re one of us now too.” Steven drained the last sip of his beer. “And Del Zotto, so learn to like that punk alright?”

John scuffed his foot on the deck planking and laughed. The idea he was a permanent member of their group made him absurdly proud. “Alright, alright.”

Steven went back to his date and John went over where some people had started a beer pong game. Almost every guy at the table had played hockey, but those who still played for a living had unbeatable hand-eye coordination. They were in demand. On the second go-round, John was pressed into service on the team opposite James. The girl next to him nailed her flip on the first try and John tossed back his beer.

He missed the first flip.

Across the table, James swallowed his entire drink in one gulp.

“My team beat yours in the playoffs!” James yelled, trying to distract John. His own flip tipped over sideways.

“I had seven more goals than you!” John shouted back, missing another try.

“Stamkos beat you on that, get his ass over here!” James fumbled again. John hit the lip of his cup, it flipped once and landed perfectly on its bottom. The little crowd roared.

“Number one draft pick,” John sang.

James finally stuck his own flip, but it was too late. He gave John and mock glare, turned toward the rest of the party and bellowed, “STAMKOS!!!!”
____

The game got sloppier and the insults more colorful. Steven joined in, and Michael. Everyone’s coordination got worse as they went from tipsy to buzzed, but it took the hockey players longer than the average civilian. Still by the time John backed away from the table to a chant of “Twenty years!” since his team had won the Stanley Cup, his head was a little wobbly. The cooler next to the table was empty anyway.

John headed for the garage, careful to navigate the porch steps correctly. It would not do to be injured from playing beer pong. Once he was on solid ground he walked steadily, shaking the bubbles from his bloodstream. The door from the kitchen to the garage was propped wide.

And there was Meghan. She stood in front of the open fridge, the only light in the room. Two cases of beer were balanced against her shins, ready for transport. She was digging something out from behind them, leaning forward. Her dress outlined the curve of her ass and the swing of her breasts.

Like a contact high, John suddenly felt a lot more drunk. Only there was no contact. He visualized himself walking over there was if it were really happening. He saw what he would do - push the cases of beer back on the shelf, pull Meghan aside and turn her around. John would lower his mouth to hers at the same speed his hands pushed over her skirt. Their lips would come together at the moment he felt her bare skin, the kiss would deepen as he drew his hands up her thighs, lifting her skirt, twisting his tongue against hers. Meghan would wrap her arms around his neck, lean back against the side of the fridge. John wouldn’t stop. His thumbs would each brush a piece of lace across her hip, tuck inside and gently draw her panties down. Then he would open his own shorts. Meghan wouldn’t let go, just allow John to nudge her thighs apart and keep kissing him as he slowly screwed himself inside her, deeper and higher, until her heels lifted and her feet barely touched the floor. Then he would take her, right there where anyone could see them. Where anyone could hear them. Because even though John would never stop kissing her, in his fantasies Meghan always said his name.

“Hey.”

The word snapped John out of his daydream. He felt clammy. Reality came back to him with a kick in the form of his cock throbbing. John coughed, covering.

“Let me get that.”

He hoped the darkness was enough to hide him adjusting his junk as he walked down the two steps. Meghan was busy again in the fridge anyway. As John neared her he felt the cloud of cold from the open door and added that to his fantasy. He could trace the goosebumps it left on Meghan’s body.

The sight of John’s face made Meghan feel guilty. She’d been avoiding him, hoping he wouldn’t notice and watching as he fit right in with everyone else and had fun. He didn’t need her, certainly not to protect him from other guys he already knew. What a stupid impulse, even if he had thanked her for it. Now he was here, helpful again, but it wasn’t lost on Meghan that they were alone in a dark room and it would be a while before anyone missed them. John stepped right up to get the beer and she was caught between his body and the open fridge door.

John kept his eyes on the prize. He easily lifted the two cases from their perch at the edge of the bottom shelf. Meghan had a six pack of something else in her hand. He motioned for her to put it on top.

“I got this,” she said.

“Meghan,” he insisted.

She rolled her eyes and placed the bottles on top of the cans he was holding. It wasn’t a lot of weight but it made nice use of the muscles in his broad chest and shoulders. Meghan already knew she was a sucker for those biceps. And she’d had a few beers.

“Oooh, strong,” she said, giving John’s upper arm a playful squeeze that did absolutely nothing to the solid muscle.

He nodded like he was tipping his hat. “Ma’am.”

The view from behind was even better. John’s arms were flexed out to the sides, delineating the v-shape of his torso. His shirt bunched a bit there, hanging loose over his taut waist but catching where his perfect ass met the rest of his body. Meghan bit her lip, admiring the sight, before she resigned to shut the refrigerator door.

John was amazed to have gotten out of the garage with just beers and the hot flash he was currently experiencing. That was will power. Meghan hurried ahead and slid open the screen to the porch.

John stopped at the threshold, enjoying the cooler air trapped in the house. “Hot,” he said.

Meghan barely had to move before she was right in John’s way, the cases of beer the only space between them. She did something she’d wanted to do all night - reached up and opened one more button at the top of John’s shirt. Her finger dipped just inside and stroked the skin beneath the hollow of his throat. John swallowed hard, bouncing his Adam’s apple just above her touch. Now he looked summery. He looked like someone who had at least a clue how fucking sexy he was.

“Better?” she asked in a low voice.

John wanted to drop the beer and throw her up against the open glass door for the entire party to see. All the better if the cans exploded and soaked them, then he could drag her into the shower next. Meghan’s wide, beautiful green eyes watched him like they were looking for a clue if her game was working. John knew it was sink or swim. Flirt or flight. He looked down - down her dress, but also down at the buttons between her breasts.

John smiled. “Your turn.”
____

Comments

Just finished this story and wanted to say that you're an incredible writer. :)
I think you'd write a great MDZ story btw.

I'm so sad that it's over. ): But thank you for spending so much time and effort to write something so wonderful!

OMGEmilyGrace OMGEmilyGrace
4/7/14

Omg poor James :(

hockeywife hockeywife
2/27/14

This story is amazing. My favorite. I love it so much

racheal racheal
2/10/14

I love this story so much!!!

RedWingsGirl2 RedWingsGirl2
1/12/14