Andre Burakovsky

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You were out with friends, just like every other Friday night. Your heels were high, the dress was tight and short, and like always the drinks were strong. Some of the Capitals players were there for the night, wasn't a surprise that the girls were flocking to them.

You caught Andre's eyes and ordered another shot of tequila. You knew he was going to call you after he took home some girl tonight.  You wanted to say no. You thought that if you stayed sober, you would turn him down. But you didn't. It just made you feel worse, with only yourself to blame. At least this time, you could blame José.

"Slow down there, babe. You're going to drink the bar dry."

"Mm. Maybe. Guess how much I care?" You downed a few more shots before going out on the dance floor.

You were going to have a massive headache in the morning, but that would take your mind off of the fact that you would most likely doing the "I got laid parade" from the hockey players apartment.

"You're drunk. Go home."

"Fuck you. I can have at least 3 more drinks. Six if I hurl." You words were slurred and you knew that your friends wouldn't let you go home with Andre, so you decided to slow it down just a bit and go dancing with the cute guy who's been looking at you all night.

When you got home, after countless shots of tequila, it was almost three in the morning. Your roommates were using the two bathrooms in your apartment so you were left with the garbage can in your room.

"The fuck do you want, Andre?"

"Come over."

"Do not try to get me to come over when I saw you leave with that girl. She probably just left your bed and you haven't even changed your sheets yet."

"Babe, come on." You thought about it for a while, but weren't sure how well that would work. You grabbed the bottle of rum out of the freezer and took a pull.

"Fine. I'll call an uber."

You knew this was going to be a bad idea, but what can meaningless sex do? It wasn't going to hurt, right? You weren't going to fall for him, or wish that he just had the guts to take you home in the first place.

At least that's what you told yourself.




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