Jimmy took us over to meet his teammates. Sometimes I had to admire April’s skills. From a tiny photo, she had managed to select Marc Gagnon, who was extremely hunky in real life. His hair was long and dark, and he looked a little sleepy but hot in a feline kind of way. He was totally built as well, with huge arms and a broad chest. He had shed his jacket and tie, and had rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. Jimmy introduced us and Marc seemed friendly, but he hardly spoke any English. Jimmy added something in French, which had them both laughing and me wishing I paid more attention in French 11. Even though April's last name was Lachance, the only French phrase she knew was “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” but in this case, that might be the only phrase she would need.
April took a long look at Marc, ran a hand through her hair and smiled. “Well, hello there, Marc.”
Man, she should have been bottling her charm and selling it. I was ready to go to bed with her when she used that purring voice.
“Allô, April.” He grinned at her and gave me a wink as well.
Seconds later they were out on the dance floor. I wasn’t sure if any words were even spoken. I guess that was how the pros did it. And speaking of pros, when I turned around, Karen was already seated in a booth with five guys around her, odds that seemed about right. She gave me a finger wave.
Jimmy and I sat together in another booth to get caught up. I wouldn't have minded dancing, but Jimmy didn’t dance unless he had been drinking, and without the nice little wristband he wasn’t drinking in this room.
“You know, Kelly, you seem so different here, in Vancouver with your friends and everything.”
“Oh really, in what way?”
He wasn’t any different; after seeing him play so well, I was totally turned on and wanted to have sex. That didn’t seem likely tonight, but I could sit right next to him and have some body contact anyway. He smelled extra good tonight, a mix of cologne and himself.
“I don’t know. You seem like you were one of the cool kids, you know, in high school. I sure wasn’t.” He seemed to want to say more but was unable to express it.
Was I one of the cool kids? I didn’t think so, but April and Karen definitely were, and we were all good friends. Did any of this stuff actually matter after high school?
I changed the subject to hockey, and we started talking about the differences between the teams and the biggest competition for Team Canada. As we were talking, I was playing with his tie and touching his arm, but he was being the captain and trying to set a good example. Rats. I wondered whether we were going to get a chance to be alone this week.
Later, I noticed Marc Gagnon was back and talking to the guys. I guessed April had moved on, but it was hard to understand why. April was a little on the fickle side sometimes, not with girlfriends but definitely with guys. The slightest thing could make her drop someone.
I excused myself to go the washroom and on the way back I had a look around for April. When I saw her, I was totally shocked. She was making out with this guy on the dance floor. He seemed to fit all her criteria: he was about six feet tall, very blond and super handsome with movie star good looks. But still, she had just met him.
I interrupted Karen and her male harem to ask what we should do.
“Do? April’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”
“But maybe she’s had too many of those appletinis, and we need to rescue her.”
“She looks pretty happy to me.”
We both looked, April was laughing at something Blondie had said. They were doing a lot of hand motions, so it seemed there was some kind of language barrier.
“Aren’t we supposed to be wingmen? Sisters?” I asked.
“God, Kelly, I can tell you won’t give up on this. Let’s go and talk to her. We’ll get an idea of where she’s at.”
We walked over. Now April and Blondie were sitting in a booth with some other guys.
“Hi there,” Karen greeted them. A chorus of keen hellos came right back at her. “We came to check on our friend here.”
“Oh hello, you are friends of April’s,” said one fellow with a heavy Scandinavian accent.
“Kelly! Karen! I’m making friends with Team Sweden here. Kelly, you may be right about hockey players after all—especially my friend here—whose name I can’t actually say.” She giggled and mimed at him. “What’s. Your. Name?”
He smiled and he was seriously cute in a healthy Nordic way. “Bengt Sjoblom.”
April was giggling her head off, between swigs of her appletini. Who knew how many she had had so far? “Isn’t that the cutest little name?” Her head slumped a bit and she went to support it with her hand and missed. One of the signs of the drunkopocalypse.
“Please. Join us.” One of the guys shoved someone else out to make room for us.
I gave Karen a questioning look, and she nodded at me.
“April, I think it’s time to blow this popsicle stand.” I told her.
“Actually, I think the only thing I’d like to blow is—”
I cut her off and took the drink out of her hands. “Sweetie, I’ve got your back here. I think you’ll thank me in the morning. If not, I’m sure I can get Benny’s phone number here, and you call him later.”
I mimed a phone to the Swedish guy, and he stared blankly at me. So I pulled out my cell and he finally got it. To save translation time, I handed over my phone and he put his number in. I don’t think he spoke any English at all. He looked pretty sad I was taking his playmate away.
“Wait,” said April. “I totally have to kiss Benny goodbye.” And she went over and planted a big messy kiss on his lips. You didn’t have to understand Swedish to know what his teammates were saying then. After they finally came up for air, I dragged April away.
As we were making our way to the exit, Jimmy stopped me.
“Where are you going? It’s not that late yet.”
“Oh sorry, I was looking for you. We have to take April home, she’s totally out of it.”
“Couldn’t you send her home in a cab and stay?”
“No, I’ve got my car, and we’re all sleeping over at Karen’s place tonight.”
“Okay, well, I’ll call you and we can get together, maybe tomorrow.” He looked pretty sad too. I gave him a kiss, which turned into something pretty intense for the middle of the club. As usual, hooting broke out. Obviously, my girlfriends and I were supplying the entertainment tonight.
“Is there anyone you want to kiss goodbye?” I asked Karen.
“Actually this guy I was talking to, he's the goalie. Very cute.” she replied. I thought she was kidding so we proceeded to the door. I propelled April out and past our friend the doorman.
“Night, ladies,” he said. He had probably seen the same thing a million times.
Once we got in the car, we strapped April into the back seat. After I took off, I told Karen to grab the World Juniors program from the seat pocket, the same one April had ordered her dates from. I had a sneaking suspicion about something.
“Karen, look up April’s new boyfriend for me.”
“Yes, wasn’t he a cutie?” April piped up from the back seat.
Karen had no idea how to spell his name, but the photos helped. With her unerring sense, April had picked the cutest guy on the team.
“Okay, here he is: Bengt Sjoblom.” Karen turned his name into six new syllables never before heard in Stockholm.
“What year was he born in?” I asked.
“1989? Oh my God, April, he’s seventeen years old!”
“What? How can that be, he’s like, so tall? Plus, isn’t there a limit on ages?”
“Yeah, the limit is nobody over twenty,” I replied, smiling. I wasn’t going to have to listen to any more cougar insults about Jimmy’s age.
“Rawr,” I purred at April.