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When they'd first gotten together during his rookie season, he'd thought he'd hit the jackpot in the girlfriend department. She was hot as fuck, with a beautiful face, long blonde hair, and big blue eyes. And her body was bangin'.
But as time rolled on, the angel mask that had won him over had come off to reveal the demon everyone had warned him about.
"Yeah, right," she pouted.
"Shay, you've told me three times about Tamara. What do you want me to say?"
He motioned to Jake and pointed at his beer. The only way he was getting through this night was with more alcohol.
"I didn't tell you three times," she snapped. "Pardon me for wanting to talk to my boyfriend about a problem I'm having. I thought you'd be upset that Tamara is calling me names. I don't know what Gunnar Klasson sees in that bitch. She's not even hot. Have you seen how one of her eyes is bigger than the other? It's so obvious, not to mention creepy. Anyway, Miss Googly Eyes better watch her back if she keeps running her mouth, or I'll fix her."
"Just drop it, Shay. It's over and done with."
A cute brunette walked up to their table with a fresh beer and set it down in front of him.
"Thanks," he said, flashing a quick smile.
She returned the smile and glanced at Shay. "Anything else I can get for you guys?"
"Yeah. You can get lost," Shay muttered, staring down at her nails. "I'm trying to have an important conversation with my boyfriend. Bye."
"Jesus Christ, Shay!"
The familiar rush of heat from his neck to his cheeks began, his usual reaction when Shay did something that embarrassed him. When he looked up at the waitress, he noticed she didn't seem all that upset by Shay's comment.
"Sorry." He pulled a twenty from his wallet and held it out to her. "For your trouble."
She shook her head and held up a hand. "Not necessary. Enjoy your evening."
The girl turned and hurried back to the bar as Sam fixed his gaze on Shay. "Listen carefully, Shay. We're over. I've hit my limit with your bullshit. We're over. Done. Finished. No more breaking up and getting back together, understand? This is it."
"Excuse me?" Shay sputtered, staring at him in shock. "You're breaking up with me because I told some stupid waitress to go away? She was interrupting our conversation!"
"Do you hear yourself?" he asked. "Do you hear how fucking rude you sound?"
"She's a waitress, Sammy. Who cares if she didn't like what I said? She's the help."
He tipped his beer back, draining the bottle dry. "I care. And I'm not doing this anymore."
"Sammy, come on."
"Don't ‘Sammy’ me! I've told you a hundred times that I prefer Sam, but have you ever listened? No." He stood. "You can see yourself out of here, now."
"Oh, you don't want to do this anymore?" she shouted, sliding out of the booth. Shay stepped into his personal space, getting nose-to-nose with him. "You didn't say you didn't want to do this anymore last night when you were fucking me!" she yelled. "You didn't want it to be over then! Guess you had to get off first."
The entire bar grew quiet. All eyes turned in their direction, including his teammates. He took a step back from Shay and looked over at Ryder, his captain, whose raised eyebrows betrayed his concern.
"You ruin everything," he said quietly. "But I'm not going to let you ruin one more thing for me, Shay. If you don't leave right now, I'm going to get security to kick you out. Try me and see."
"Asshole!" she screamed, poking him in the chest. "You'll be sorry."
"I doubt it."
"I hate you, Sam London! I hate you! I don't know why I ever thought you were worth my time. I deserve so much better than you can offer me!"
Her voice echoed off the walls of the bar as she turned and stormed toward the door. When she got to the exit, she turned around and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "And if I haven't made myself clear? Fuck you,Sammy. Because you sure as hell won't be fucking me!"
Sam sank back down in the booth after she stomped out of Callahan's, and the conversation, which had ceased entirely while Shay had thrown her temper tantrum, resumed. He dragged his hands through his hair and stared down at the table.
