Miranda's Men

“David Rundblad? Who’s that?” Jenny asked, sipping her Long Island iced tea.
“He plays for the Ottawa Senators, he’s a defenseman,” I answered loudly, over the music, stirring my signature vodka cran.
"Shouldn't he be playing a hockey game or something?" Jenny asked, twirling her straw.
"They play tomorrow night," I answered. "Against the Sabres."

Kendra was typing away on her Android, googling him. Once she stumbled upon a picture, her jaw dropped. She quickly twisted her phone towards the rest of the booth, her eyes so wide, they looked like they could pop the lenses out of her glasses. “No way this is him,” she said, her short blonde hair bouncing.
I sighed. “Yup, that’s him.”
The rest of the table leaned in to get a closer look. “Damn girl, if he was sitting in my living room in his underwear I’d be swept up too,” Taylor said, taking a gulp of her drink.
“And his accent, guys, his accent....” I trailed off, and Taylor started snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Leslie. Focus. I get it, sweetie, he’s a dreamboat. But Miranda is happy, and you can’t get between them, especially since this is the first time a guy has stuck around because she wanted him to.”
“I know, I know. I couldn’t get between them even if I wanted to. I hope she realizes what she has. I guess I should just be happy for her like a good friend and roommate.”
“Good girl. I can’t help but notice there are a lot of good-looking guys in this club, and I think we should find you one,” Kendra said, standing up and grabbing my hand.
“It shouldn’t be hard, you look absolutely fabulous in that dress!” Jenny shouted, waving her hands up and down my body.
“Thanks ladies. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you guys.” I smiled to myself. They were right, Miranda was my roommate and best friend, and I wouldn't ever do anything to jeopardize her relationship with Dave. My mind started to stir as we headed to the bar to fetch more drinks. What if things didn't work out for them? Was I in the clear then? I quickly shook my head, grabbing a hold of my second vodka cran of the night, downing half of it immediately, then taking a glance at the dance floor. I'd find what I was looking for there.

* * *

An hour or two had passed. Everything was starting to get blurry, and all the men around me were getting increasingly attractive. My friends had scattered, and I had been jumping from guy to guy on the dance floor, but none of them could distract me from thinking about Dave. I started dancing with one guy, who had curly black hair and pink, rosy cheeks. He put his hands on my waist as we danced, and they slowly began to creep up towards my breasts. I was drunk, but not that drunk, so I shoved him off in search of a new, less gropey dance partner. Jenny was in a corner talking closely with a tall blonde, Kendra had gone to the bathroom to call her boyfriend, and Taylor had left with a guy long before. I stood motionless in the middle of the dance floor, alone and drunk, while the crowd around me danced and bumped. Before I could even think, I pulled my cellphone out of my cleavage. It was 1:15. I figured I should call Dave. I didn’t want to interrupt his ‘alone time’ with Miranda, which I was sure the two had indulged in, but I was on the verge of tears, and ready to go home. I quickly texted him, and he replied he was on his way.

* * *

Kendra and I waited outside the club together, shivering in the cool October air. I waited for Dave, and she waited for her boyfriend. Simply standing still proved to be challenging, as I grabbed on to her arm to steady myself.

“Ohmigod, Kendra. When Dave gets here, when...when he gets here, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I slurred, spitting out a laugh. "I really hope I don't tell him how much I love him. Because I really, really want to."
Kendra rubbed my back. “Sweetheart I know you’re wasted, just try not to do anything stupid, okay?” she said, turning her head to look into my eyes.
At that moment, Dave’s black SUV pulled up, and Miranda wasn’t in the passenger seat. Where was she? Dave hopped out of the car, his blazer now gone, in only his white-vneck and khakis. When Kendra saw him, she straightened a little, fixing her blonde bob when he wasn’t looking.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on her. I’m Dave, by the way, her roommate’s, uh...friend,” he said, shaking Kendra’s hand. I blinked hard, trying to focus. Miranda’s friend? He clearly wasn’t just her friend. And where was she?? I needed answers.
“Kendra, nice to meet you. Interesting accent, where are you from?” Kendra asked, physically handing me over to him.
“Sweden,” he replied, wrapping his arm around my waist, and slinging my arm over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Leslie. Nice meeting you Kendra, get home safe.” I was too drunk to even enjoy the way his arms were wrapped around my body as he helped me in to the car. All I could tell was that he was strong and warm. He rounded the car and jumped in the driver’s seat. “Now, if you have to throw up or anything let me know, I don’t want any puke in my car.” He laughed, glancing at me through the corner of his eye.
“Don’t you worry, I’m A-OK.” I said, winking and making an OK sign with my fingers. He giggled at me, shaking his head. “How was your date?” I asked, my sentence sounding like one long word.
“Alright.” He said nothing else, gripping the steering wheel with one hand. I pressed my lips together, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “How was the club?”
“It was nice seeing my friends, but the club was...bad. A whole bunch of guys who weren’t for me, and who couldn’t help me get my mind of y...things.” I cringed at my words, but was glad that I hadn't let what I wanted to say so badly slip.
“That’s too bad. You’ll get ‘em next time,” he responded, seeming rather distant.
Before I could stop myself, I sputtered, “Is something wrong?”

We were at a stoplight. He looked at me, his eyes lingering on me. He was studying my face, and I simply stared back at him, my lips parted. He abruptly looked back at the road, a solemn look on his face. He quickly turned the wheel, turning right onto the road perpendicular, then into a parking lot, parking the car. He turned towards me, and I gulped. “Wanna go somewhere?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
I pouted my lips a little and cocked my head. “Somewhere? Where?”
“A place I go to clear my head. If you don’t want to, I can drop you off back at your place. I’d really like you to come, though.”
I bit my lip. I heard all the voices of my friends in my head, telling me to ask him to take me back. But I knew as soon as we got back, he’d crawl into bed with Miranda, and the moment that I could have drunkenly shared with this 6’2 hockey-playing hunk of blue-eyed beauty would be lost. “Sure,” I replied. “Let’s go.”