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A few of our teammates are at the first table as soon as we walk in, so I stop by and shoot the shit with them before moving farther into the room. It’s packed this evening. And I mean, fucking slammed. Seems everyone got the memo that this is where the party is tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever seen it quite so busy.
“Holy fuck, he came!” Ryder, my number two receiver, slams his hand down on the bar when he sees Higgins and me approach. “How the hell did you get him here?” he asks Higgins before standing to give me a single-armed hug. “Damn good to see you, brother.” He pats my shoulder before reclaiming his stool.
“You just saw me like an hour ago,” I remind him, already sensing a slur in his words.
Ryder is one of the other receivers that stayed over for an extra practice today. He and a couple of the other guys headed out early, while Higgins and I stayed back to run a few more plays. Seems he didn’t waste much time.
“Did I? Seems so long ago.” He gives me a cheeky grin, his blond hair standing up in every direction like he forgot to comb it after getting out of the shower. “What are you drinking?”
“Just a beer.”
“Yeah, me too,” Higgins quickly adds.
“Two beers, you got it.” Ryder flags down the bartender and orders for us while I move to the side to speak to a couple other teammates.
Seems everyone is here tonight.
Once I have a beer in hand, I leave Higgins at the bar with Ryder as I go in search of Enzo. He’s a good friend of mine—is the excuse I give myself, when in reality I know part of it is because I knowwhowill be with him once I find him.
I get stopped several times in my search, hugged more times than I can count, propositioned for sex not once, but twice, and even forced to sign a few autographs—which I still haven’t gotten fucking used to. In Michigan, most people barely knew my name. Here, everyone knows me. It’s been a lot to wrap my head around, especially after we won the championship game last season. But it’s nothing I wasn’t prepared for either.
I knew one day I would make it. It was simply a matter of when, not if. One last step in the plan—get drafted. I’ve met with a few coaches, talked to some organizations, but no one is too quick to move this early in the season. They want to see if last season was a fluke or if I’m the real deal. All the more reason why staying focused this season is more important than ever.
By the time I finally find where Enzo and his girl are hiding out, a good thirty minutes have passed, and I have my second beer in my hand. I know I said I wouldn’t drink more than one and even considered not having even that, but the first went down so smoothly, and it’s a limited practice tomorrow, so I decided to let myself have a second.
It isn’t actually Enzo that I find first, it’s Tigs. As per usual, he’s shit-faced and screaming so loud the whole fucking bar can hear him. As I approach, I realize he’s not talking, but singing. It isn’t until I get closer that I realize who he’s singing to.
Rory Hensley...
She’s sitting on a stool, her cheeks bright red, a mortified smile on her face like she’s honestly not sure what the hell to do as Tigs belts a song I don’t immediately recognize. Something about bumping bodies and touching. That’s about all I can really make out.
She’s uncomfortable, that much is clear. I may not know much about her, but I know she’s a bit of an introvert. That much was apparent the first time I sat down in front of her.
Little does anyone know, I’m actually a lot like Rory in that way. I mean, yeah, I talk to a lot of people and am forced to do interviews and things of the like, but that doesn’t mean I like it. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to cover my face with my hands and hide away. Trust me, I do. But I push through it because that’s how badly I want this.
Per usual, she’s dressed casually, wearing jean shorts and Converse, paired with a simple fitted white T-shirt, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She dresses this way to try and make herself less noticeable, to blend in, but it has the opposite effect on me. It’s her simplicity that I find the most breathtaking, and fuck me if I don’t want to crumple to my knees when her green eyes go wide as she finally notices me watching the spectacle Tigs is making.
She’s so distracted by me that she doesn’t realize Tigs has moved in until he’s inches from her face. The whole thing happens in slow motion. One minute, I’m standing a good five feet away, a beer in my hand. The next, I’ve got Tigs by the shirt, hauling him backward and my beer is nowhere to be found.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He turns on me, his expression shifting slightly when he realizes it’s me.
“Me? You’re about to force yourself on someone who clearly has no interest in you in front of an audience. People are fucking recording you, Tigs.”
“Fuck that,” he slurs, grabbing my shoulder. “I was just giving them all a show.”
“Well, I think the show is about over, don’t you?” I give him a look that says he does not have an option. I may not be his coach, but I’m the leader of this fucking team, and he’d do well to listen to me.
“Oh, come on, Arch, don’t be like that.” He sways unsteadily on his feet.
“Yeah, let’s get you out of here.” I move around him, draping his arm over my shoulders while also wrapping mine around his middle to keep him upright. “Tell everyone good night.” I make a joke out of it so everyone knows we’re good.
“Good night, everyone.” He waves, damn near taking us both backward in the process.
I glance back at Rory one more time—her expression still one of mortification, only this time I think I’m the one who put it there by causing an even bigger scene. Never mind the fact that I just saved her from being mauled by a guy twice her size in front of everyone.
I don’t need her appreciation or her approval because just like that, I realize that the universe kept me from making a very big mistake tonight. Not that I’m a big believer in fate or anything, but when you’re walking a path you shouldn’t and something steps in your way, you take that shit as a fucking sign.
It doesn’t matter that I think about her for no apparent reason. That I fantasize about pink spreading up those cheeks as I sink deep inside her. That I dream about what she tastes like, what she smells like, what shefeelslike.
