Changing Positions (Brooks Haven Bears 3)

Chapter 13 - Party Crasher

Emily

It’s harder than I think it would be. I thought that Jason and Lance would party at their homes, but they just had to rent a whole club for the night. I’m pretty sure Gallagher’s Night Club is pretty thankful. It’s a new place in this small town. It can’t get any better than the crowd the two NHL players will gather for it. Did I say “will gather” future tense? They have already invited many people and most, if not all, will be coming. The party is also a good promotional event for the club, but I know Jason and Lance would pay in full. Still, the assholes didn’t invite me, even though other freshmen were coming.

Thank goodness my brother went home to our parents’ house. I told him he should be there, watching out for Mom. I feel guilty using our mom to get rid of him, but it worked.

Mom’s also a lot better. For now. Her condition weighs heavily on all of us. Mine may be a milder version of hers, but I know how devastating it can be to not be in control. After all, she’s our mom and we feel some echoes of her emotions.

It’s hard to hear people speculating about why she sometimes looks so down. They act as if she has no right to feel things just because she’s perceived as lucky.

“She has everything. What more can she ask for?”

“Spoiled rotten. Born into the Strauss family. Married to the Parks. Modeled. She had everything so easy.”

It’s unfair how people think of my mom that way. Some of them are even so-called friends. No wonder she’s sticking with the person who has always known about it but never ran away. Mrs. Blom.

Am I leaning toward Hans because of that familiar comfort?

Maybe? Yet, there’s more to it than that. I don’t feel a pull toward Enzo or Dylan, even though they’re both cute and available. With Hans, though, I feel equal parts awkward and thrilled.

I’m going to the party.

Nobody can stop me.

I’m going to tell Hans that I can’t be around him anymore, if it means making me feel oh so confused. It’s an unfair ultimatum, and he’s probably looking forward to seeing Stacey and the other invited freshmen.

But he asked about what I’m feeling.

So, I’ll give him an answer.

I feel awkward around him, and a strange tingling feeling that won’t let me be friends with him is always rising to the surface. Then again, I also feel comfortable with him when given the chance to let the awkwardness thaw out. Not just friends. I’m afraid a part of me wants more, although I’m also terrified I may destroy the little equilibrium we have established.

**

I arrive late. Almost midnight. The party is supposed to begin at 10 o’clock, but these things never begin on time. I want to blend in with the crowd instead of announcing my arrival, and that’s exactly what I would be doing if I’d be one of the first. There are lots of cheerleaders at the party, most of them petite. Some are about my height, but I don’t risk wearing heels and getting myself noticed.

So, I’m right. The music may be loud and pumping when I make my entrance, but many people are just milling in. They’re showing arm bands that have been given to them in advance. It’s a good thing Jason’s a slob. I stole one from him easily.

While Hans may not be the tallest guy in the room, it’s easy to find him. He’s tall enough and is only one of two fair-haired guys in the Bears’ current roster. There’s also that energy most of the team’s captains have. People gravitate toward them, and he’s even more of a people person than the previous captain, Carter Knox, ever was. So, I’m not surprised he’s standing in the middle of the dance floor, even when he’s not even dancing. He seems to be having an intense conversation with some guy, while a few college girls gape at him.

Hans seems to be having an important conversation with this other guy. Drunk? I’m curious but I don’t go nearer. I want to know where this is going.

A tall, muscular guy who looks to be in his thirties approaches Hans and the dodgy-looking guy with the baggy shirt and frosted tips. That hairstyle should remain back in the past, but what do I know? My mother dresses me. It’s only lately that I’ve started having an opinion on what I should wear, and most days, I don’t really care if something is trendy. Looking around at how everyone is dressed for the party makes me a little nervous, though. My hair is in two French braids, and I’m wearing a long-sleeved cream cashmere shirt paired with a micro-mini, flared, pleated skirt. The last time I wore something this short is when I had my tattoos.

“You’re here,” a familiar voice whispers behind my back. I feel his breath on the nape of my neck.

Shit.

I’m partly relieved it’s neither Lance nor Jason who’s right behind me, but I’m not ready for Enzo, either. I want to know what’s up with Hans and the two guys, both of whom don’t look like they can be trusted, before I can socialize with other people in this party.

“Enzo. Shh. Lance and Jason don’t know I’m here,” I say, turning around to face him. He looks great in light blue jeans and a black rocker T-shirt. It’s certainly different from Hans’ dark-blue polo shirt and dark-washed jeans. Both look hot, though. I blush at the thought, thankful for the dim lighting.

“Does Hans know?” Enzo's voice is just as even as mine.

“Um, he seems busy.” I try to dodge the question.

“You’re here to meet him,” Enzo says, and I can almost hear the sigh there even as the music becomes louder.

“I want to be here, Enzo,” I say. I’ll eventually tell him what’s going on when I find out what exactly it is. There are times I think Hans may like me, but I’m not sure. He’s too friendly, and sometimes too much of a flirt with other girls, that it’s hard to tell. I’m supposed to focus on the mission of finding out what’s going on between us, and letting Enzo in on my plan isn’t a great idea at this point.

“Then, let’s dance, Emily,” he says, pulling me toward him. I can’t help but giggle. Enzo has an infectious smile but it doesn't dispel the feeling of unease I have. Thinking of Hans and the two guys, I turn around to see what they’re up to then. They’re gone. Somehow, a chill runs down my spine. Something’s wrong, but I can’t ditch Enzo just like that.

“One dance, Enzo. Then, I’m going to check on Hans,” I say, trying my best to make it sound as natural as possible but more likely failing. My dance partner’s face falls, but he quickly recovers and we end up having a great time. He’s pretty good as a dancer, twirling me around in time with the music.

“We can join one of those impromptu dance competitions,” I suggest, the words rolling off my tongue. I almost regret what I’ve said, but not quite. I had fun.

“For sure. Too bad you’re skipping out on me now. Look for me later, after you’ve talked to Blom. Keep away from the bigger crowds. More likely, your brother and Lance will be there.”

“Thanks,” I say breathlessly.

Hans is not anywhere on the dance floor. He’s not by the bar. I even try to get into some of the darker corners, only to end up catching couples making out. Gross! How can they do that here in public? A part of me also feels cold all over, as I wonder whether Hans is somewhere hidden in a corner with some girl.

I’m ready to give up and go back to Enzo when I see the same guy with the frosted tips talking to some girl wearing a black miniskirt, not that different from what I’m wearing, except mine is Prada and I’m wearing flat ankle boots while she’s wearing heels.

Frosty the Snowman, as I’m now calling him, because of the telltale way he’s flaring his nose and rubbing it against his wrist, which he seems to sniff something from, places something in the girl’s hand. He closes her fist over whatever it is and sends her on her way.

My instincts tell me to follow the girl. She doesn’t look that much older than I am, maybe around twenty or twenty-one, but even from afar, her eyes seem glazed. Even with her sexy attire, her shoulders slump as if she doesn’t really want to be here. As she walks in front of me, though, I see her demeanor changes. Her back straightens and her strides lengthen. She flips her long, dark hair. I know then that we are near our destination.

The girl turns to the left and I follow, thanking my lucky stars that I’ve decided not to wear heels. She opens the door to a room and slips in. I run. I’m afraid she’s going to lock the door. So, I stop pretending that I’m not following her and push the door, almost knocking her down.

“What the f**k? What are you doing here? It’s a private room.”

“Just how private is it?” I ask, as I put together all the pieces. Frosty the Snowman. The money he slips into this girl’s hand. Her whole vibe.

“Private enough to get us into trouble,” she whispers. She looks terrified, her pupils blown and her lower lip slightly trembling.

“He paid you. What for?” I demand.

“I’m supposed to go in that other room right there,” she says, gesturing at the beaded curtain, “and f**k some guy.”

“What the f**k?” I’m too shocked to worry about my language. Am I dealing with prostitution? While I won’t judge some girl trying to make a living because not everyone’s rich like me and my family, this girl is under Frosty’s control. “Who’s paying you? The money from that guy with the frosted tips? Who gave it to him?”

She shrugs. I hope to God it’s not from Lance and Jason, or someone I know.

“Who’s the guy you’re going to meet over there?” I ask, even though I already know. Of course I do.

She walks closer to the beaded curtain, and I follow. I peek and see Hans sleeping. There can be no mistaking him. One wrist is cuffed to the headboard. I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for this girl. The whole situation is f****d.

“Get the hell out of here,” I tell the girl. “If Frosty talks, tell him that the guy sleeping in there gave you money just for you to leave. He’s not feeling well. Take my money.”

I shove a thousand dollars in her hand. She’s shocked. I’m shocked. It’s a good thing I always have cash on me.

“D-do you want me to, um?” she asks, looking at me up and down, and chewing her lower lip. Really now? She wants to know if I want her services? But wait, maybe I do.

“Well, play some goddamn music and I’m going to play a prank on the guy in there. At least you can honestly say you’re still part of this nonsense.”

“Okay.”

We wait for Hans to wake up before I give him a little dance. It’s crazy, really, and I realize just how unprepared I am when I feel his hard d**k under me. I’m a loon, and I know it, because I give him a lap dance as he protests.

I want to laugh at the situation. I’m also a little mad that he’s aroused. Then, he’s looking at my tattoos and it’s game over.

“Uncuff me, please,” he begs.

“I’m still thinking about why I should do that,” I say, pissed for no reason. “And oh, I actually don’t know where the key is.”

“It’s f*****g here,” the girl from behind the curtain cries, running toward us with the key. So, she's still here and I'm actually thankful.

“What the hell is going on, Emily? You planning a threesome with me?” Hans asks. He’s not as mad. I think he looks a little amused now.

“No. Of course not. Explain why someone’s paying someone to come and f**k you here in this room!”

“What?” he asks, shocked.

The girl scampers toward Hans and uncuffs him. I should have told her “not yet.” Ugh. Now, he’s right in my face, wearing only his boxers, and his intimidating erection jabs at my hip.

“Tuck that away, sir!” I demand, jumping away.

“You were grinding on me earlier, ma’am,” he replies with a smirk. “And what the hell do you mean by tucking it away?”

“Think shitty thoughts.”

He rolls his eyes heavenward, but I swear he's mouthing his cousin’s and my brother’s names and he’s looking pissed. Ugh.

“I’m leaving the two of you here!” the girl squeaks. “You have the room until three o’ clock.”

“We’re not using it!” I protest. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Madeline. I’m going now. Bye!”

She runs off. The door slams. Now, I’m all alone with Hans Blom. Where the hell are his clothes?