“Strawberry,” he replies.
“Mmm.” I take a sip, delighting in the taste. I like my beers the same way I like my desserts: sweet and fruity. And Caleb may not drink, but he’s a whizz at ordering them for me. I think he used to be a bartender during his dark days.
Ryan watches us, one brow raised.
“Oh,” I say with a laugh, patting Caleb’s shoulder. “It’s our weird friend thing. Mars and I have sea turtles, Cay and I have fruity beer, and Jake and I are actually friends.”
He just shrugs, checking out the menu.
We all settle in as a pair of ladies not affiliated with the Rays take the mic to perform a Streisand ballad. The cute hostess is actually a waitress, too. She leans her hip against the edge of the tables, laughing and flirting with the unmarried guys as she takes orders, flicking that black ponytail over her shoulder whenever she thinks Novy is looking.
“Here you go, honey,” the waitress says at Ryan over the opening notes of a second show tune. She bats her lashes as she slides him his beer. “Can I get you anything else?”
Let’s be clear, she’s only asking Ryan. Cay, with his shiny wedding ring and handsy husband, may as well be invisible. And I’m most definitely the competition. I have a feeling we’ll have to smash our own tomatoes if we want ketchup tonight. Either that or Ryan can pull some out of her shirt later.
“Nah, I’m all good for now, Cami, thanks,” he says, totally oblivious. “Hey, they’re actually pretty good,” he says, his eyes locked on the ladies in sequined shirts trading melodies.
Cami is still just standing there, waiting to see if she’ll get a look or a word. I raise a brow at her, and she casts me a simpering smile before she saunters off.
The ladies at the mic finish their stirring rendition of ‘The Way We Were,’ and everyone claps as they take their seats. When Morrow is called up to sing, the crowd goes wild. Even more than the Rays home crowd is the table in the back corner of screaming women. Their hair is cut and styled similarly, their makeup effortlessly contoured, and all of them are wearing cleavage-bearing shirts and jeans and skirts so tight they probably had to be sewn into them.
I peer around Caleb to get a better look. “Umm…guys? What’s with the Morrow fan section? Is he that much of a ladies’ man?”
Ryan and Caleb both follow the line of my gaze. Ryan groans as Caleb rolls his eyes.
“What?” I say, glancing between them.
“Those are the puck bunnies,” Caleb replies.
“Really?” I look again, curious. Rachel told me about this phenomenon. Apparently, it happens across pretty much all the major sports. Women will form fan clubs and haunt all the local favorites of the team—restaurants, coffee shops, clubs. “Isn’t it possible that they’re just actual fans of the sport?” I say with a shrug.
“Do you see any of us playing hockey right now?” Josh asks from across the table, balancing his son on his knee.
“Fans we like,” Jake adds from the other side of Cay. “You know, I think I actually have the most interesting conversations with female fans.” He turns to Caleb. “Remember that stats chick in college who did a paper on your shooting ratios?”
Caleb nods. “Her research got me a hat trick in my next game.”
“Yeah, fans like that we like,” Jake says again.
“So, you wouldn’t call the bunnies fans of the sport?” I ask.
“Oh, they’re fans of something,” Josh says.
“Well, what do they think is going to happen from sitting way over there?” I say, casting my eye back to the corner. “If they’re looking for a date or a hookup, why don’t they actually try talking to you guys?”
Caleb groans as Josh snorts into his beer.
“They’re not allowed over here,” Ryan replies.
I turn to face him. “What?”
He just shrugs. “Rip’s house rule. Puck bunnies sit over there, away from the WAGs and kids. If a Ray wants one, he has to go to them.”
“You can thank Lauren for that particular rule,” says Shelby, returning to the table.
“Uh-oh,” I laugh. “What happened?”
“When the Rays first got to Jax, let’s just say the bunnies were a little overzealous,” Shelby explains. “One actually sat on J-Lo’s lap. He tried to be nice about it and pushed her off. But then she plopped herself right back down, laughing like she thought he was a chair. So, he let Lauren handle it. She was sitting with me and the girls at the next table over…”
“Oh god,” I say, glancing down the table. Lauren Gerard is a beautiful, leggy blonde with the face and temper of an angel. I can only imagine what she looks like when she’s defending her man. “I bet she turned into a total banshee,” I tease.
“It was scary,” Josh says.
“J-Lo paid for all the bunnies’ dinners for how bad Lauren made them cry,” Shelby adds with a satisfied smirk.
“Noted. No sitting on Gerard’s lap,” I laugh, taking another sip of my beer.
The crowd cheers again as Morrow steps up to the mic. The band strikes up, and we all start to cheer as he belts out a pretty good rendition of “Can’t Have You” by the Jonas Brothers.
“You know, you can sit on my lap,” Ryan leans in to say in my ear.
I lean away, setting my beer down. “So, how often do you go bunny shopping?”
He looks at me, one brow raised. “What?”
“Come on, they can’t all not know how chairs work,” I tease. “Surely one has figured it out.”
He just shakes his head. “Tess…”
“What? I bet I could find you a good one. I’m an excellent wing woman. Cay, tell him,” I shout over at Caleb. “You can’t judge me by any previous failures I’ve had with Rachel. She’s impossible to shop for.”
“Facts,” Caleb says from my other side.
“Honestly, I feel a little vindicated now that I could never find her a good match,” I admit. “I was trying to narrow it down to one when that’s clearly not her style,” I tease at Caleb.
“It’s not mine either,” he says, slinging an arm around a distracted Jake and kissing him.
“Well, it’s my style,” Ryan says from my other side. “I’m a one-woman kind of man.”
“Would you ever let me wing woman for you?” I ask. “I bet we could find someone sweet and funny, maybe at the coffee shop or the beach? There’s still time to find you a cute date for the gala next week.”
He slow turns to glare at me. I know what I’m doing and so does he. “You wanna patrol the local beaches and coffee shops with me trying to find me a hot date for your gala?”
“You have a plus one invitation,” I reply with a shrug.
“Hey, Ryan, I’ve got your chicken wings here,” says Cami, stepping around the back of us. Is there a reason she needs to touch him? I don’t fucking think so. I narrow my eyes at the point where her hand rests on his shoulder. She carefully takes his order off the tray, placing it all in front of him. Another guy behind her is carrying a large tray. She’s too busy getting Ryan extra napkins, so that leaves the guy alone, handing out the rest of the food for our table.
The lights flash green and blue as Morrow sings his heart out at the chorus. The bunnies are all on their feet, cheering and screaming, their pomegranate martinis sloshing around.
I’m feeling sensory overload as the music pulses, the lights flash, and Cami is suddenly back, offering Ryan extra bleu cheese he didn’t ask for. Her breasts brush against his arm as she leans over to set it down, saying something I can’t hear over the music that makes him laugh. She’s quickly called away to another table, and Ryan watches me watch her leave.
“What about Cami?” he says, his smile falling the moment she’s gone.
“What about her?” I say, heart in my throat.
“She’s young and cute and clearly knows how chairs work,” he deadpans. “I think she’d make a great date for the gala. Should I ask her?”
The Rays around us all cheer as Morrow finishes his song, but Ryan and I may as well be alone in this crowded room. He’s all I see.