Page 56 of Game Misconduct

I couldn’t believe it.

Kerry sent me a long string of heart-eye emojis, but I didn’t respond.

Parker’s visit was a kink in my plan. He wasn’t supposed to appear the moment I needed him, like some sort of superhero. It was almost enough to make me text Mitch and tell him to cancel the blind date he set up. Almost.

* * *

Ezra, Mitch’s friend from the boxing gym, sent me the directions for the local sports bar we were meeting at. When I told him I was down for whatever he wanted to do, the last thing I expected was for him to recommend watching the Fury game together.

I should have realized then that the universe was screaming a message to me. I was too proud or determined or just plain stupid to listen.

The establishment—I couldn’t think of a better word to describe it—was in a part of downtown that I’d never been. There wasn’t necessarily a seedy side of Salt Lake City, especially compared to other major cities, but if there was, this would be it. At least I held firm in my insistence that I meet him there. Jess let me borrow her car. More accurately, she insisted I take it because she didn’t want me relying on a taxi or car service in case things went badly.

As much as we both trusted Mitch and his word, neither of us was taking chances. I texted her the address and told her when I arrived. She would check in throughout the night, and if I didn’t reply to two messages in a row, she would come to find me.

It was going to be fine. Just fine. I repeated that to myself as I got out and walked through the old, rotting wood door. The inside was shocking. I actually stopped in the middle of the entry as the heavy door slammed into me.

It was bright and clean and crowded. Not at all like the rundown exterior. Was this some kind of joke? A way to dissuade customers? But why would anyone do that? How could a business survive?

“Vivian?” a male voice called from the farthest corner. A large man stood next to a tall table with his arm in the air.

I avoided the eyes watching me cross the room, my steps faltering when I realized I had a decision to make. How should I greet him? A hug? Handshake? Fist bump?

This wasn’t only my first date in a long time, but my first blind date in years. There wasn’t a rulebook for how to make it through awkward situations. I would know. I’ve looked.

“Hey, Vivian, so nice to meet you.” Ezra made the choice for me when he wrapped his burly arms around me and squeezed about ten percent too tight.

I patted his back twice and tried to pull away but he held on. The thick scent of motor oil and body odor hit me with a force no one could have prepared for.

I stepped out of his arms and slid onto the chair across from him, forcing my smile to hold in place. This was one of Mitch’s best friends. I couldn’t be rude, especially when they were both doing me a favor.

“Have you been here before?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t.” I looked around for a menu but there was only a small paper listing the monthly beer specials.

“They’ve got all the best drafts, but I like them for their local selection.” He began listing off the selection, but after the first four or five, I stopped listening. I wasn’t much of a beer drinker, or a fan of anything that was a required taste. If I had to try something a dozen times to get used to it, or lie to myself about it tasting good, then I wasn’t a fan.

Plus, it was a Thursday, and as a rule, I didn’t drink on weeknights.

“Any food recommendations?” I asked.

“Oh man, their wings are incredible.” He then switched to listing the sauce options.

A nearby waitress caught my eye, and I gave a small nod hoping she would catch on. She turned and came to our table. “Would you guys like to order anything?”

“A dozen blazing buffalo wings for me, and another pint when you have a chance.” He tapped the rim of the almost empty glass.

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “And for you?”

Wings were a disastrous date food, the mess alone would give me anxiety, then there was the munching on bones to contend with. “Do you have a boneless option?”

“Sorry, no. We have wings, nachos, onion rings, and motz sticks.”

“I’m tellin’ you the wings are the way to go.” Ezra slapped the table with a wide grin.

Oh boy. “I’ll just have a Diet Coke, please.”

“Coming right up.” The waitress spun and headed to the bar.