He rolled his eyes. Heat gathered beneath the collar of his shirt and started to spread up to his face.
“Oh, come on. Good-looking guy like you? Don’t give me that.”
He shook his head, his face getting hotter. He scratched his head beneath the back of his ball cap and looked away. “Uh.”
Yeah, that was why he was such a loser with women. Scintillating conversationalist. Not.
Jesus.
“Another draft.” He pushed the glass across the bar toward her. Maybe a few more drinks would help him. “Please.”
“Okay, but I’m keeping an eye on you. You wanna give me your keys right now?”
He frowned. “Why?”
“So you don’t drive drunk.”
“I would never do that.”
She held out her hand, palm up, and wiggled her fingers. Sighing, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and slapped them into her hand. She grinned as she tucked them into a pocket, then got him another beer.
“My friends are meeting me here. Just so you know I’m not sitting here getting wasted all alone. They won’t let me drive drunk.”
“That’s great. Friends don’t let friends drive drunk. Good that they look out for you.”
He nodded. “They do. We all do. We have to.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
For some reason he didn’t want to tell her it was because they were a team. A pro hockey team. She worked at the Sin Bin, she had to know her boss was a hockey player. At that moment, he just wanted to be Duncan Armstrong who grew up on a Wisconsin dairy farm. Eh. The dairy farm part wasn’t exactly sexy.
Why was he even worried about that? He did a mental eye roll at himself.
“We just have each other’s backs,” he finally said vaguely.
“Well, that’s nice. Excuse me for a few minutes, I need to look after that table.”
She moved away again. This time he watched her the whole time, for some reason intrigued by her easy, friendly manner. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous like some of the other babes Rupper hired, but she probably made great tips just with that smile and the way she looked at people, all interested and shit.
Yeah, the guys at the table she was serving were laughing and flirting with her. He narrowed his eyes at one who laughed too loudly and leered too lasciviously.
How the hell did he even know that word? What a dork. He shook his head and turned back to his beer.
“So you’re not heartbroken and drowning your sorrows.” She resumed their conversation when she returned.
“Not exactly.”
She leaned on the bar, eyes fixed on him with that undivided attention—even though he knew she was completely aware of anyone around them who needed service. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve given up on women.”
She gave a solemn nod. “Switching teams, huh?”
At first his mind went literally to hockey. As it would. Oh wait. Surprise made him laugh out loud.
“My best friend is gay,” she said, straight-faced. “I could introduce you two.”
He caught the glimmer in her eyes. “Maybe I should switch teams.”
“That would be a waste.”
Christ. Was she flirting with him? And she had no idea who he was. Nice.
“You’re not gay.” She gave his shoulder a bump with hers.
“No,” he agreed. “And I guess I can’t just turn.”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.”
Her smile was really…nice. Warm. Wide. Her straight white teeth gleamed and her full lips made him think about kissing them. His gaze dropped to her left hand. No ring.
He frowned. Christ, he’d vowed to give up on women and hadn’t even made it through the rest of the day.
An hour later he was well on his way to being shitfaced. The bar got busier. More serving staff arrived, including a bartender, which sadly meant Amber didn’t have to get his beers anymore. She got busier too. And he was still sitting there alone. Other than when Amber had a few minutes to stop and talk to him.
“You know what?” She leaned next to him on the bar, holding a round tray up against her. “I think your friends stood you up.”
Chapter 2
Amber watched the big guy on the bar stool who’d downed several gallons of draft but was apparently not completely tanked. He was just so damn…cute.
Maybe “cute” wasn’t the right term to describe a big bruiser like him…oh hell, yeah, it was.
“They wouldn’t do that. Oh wait. They didn’t actually know I was coming here tonight. I was supposed to be with Marissa. No, Melissa.”
She frowned. “You have two girlfriends?”
“No! It was Melissa. I just got confused. Marissa is my buddy’s ex.”
Poor Melissa. “I hope you never called her Marissa to her face. That is the worst thing you can do to a woman.” Bitterness burned inside her at the memory.
His mouth dropped open. “Fuck no. I’ve never done that.” His forehead creased. “Someone called you the wrong name?”
She grimaced. “Yeah. In the middle of sex, no less.”
“Ouch.”
“Meh. It was for the best. He was a douche.”
“Obviously.”
“So you were supposed to be out with Melissa, but you dumped her ass and your friends don’t know that yet.”