“Nothing. Just didn’t expect you to wear something so...tight. That’s not like you.”
And suddenly, there’s goes that bit of genuine confidence. I try to put the mask back on, but it’s almost impossible to do so in my hometown.
“Should I change?” Though, I have no idea what I’d wear. I only brought one outfit to go out this week.
“No, you look fine,” Jackie chimes in. “But you’re going to straighten your hair, right?”
My eyes dart back and forth between Hannah and Jackie, noting their perfectly smooth bleach blonde hair. The difference between their texture and mine was a huge insecurity in high school. People teased me for my wild curls, so much so that I straightened my hair almost every day in hopes of controlling them and looking like my peers.
But as I got older, I learned how to take care of my natural texture, and I haven’t straightened it in years.
“No. I’m wearing it like this.” I push my hair out of my face. Grabbing my purse off the bed, I head to the door. “Where are we going first?”
“Whiskey Town.”
I quickly shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s right across the street from the arena. There’s a good chance some of the hockey team will be there.”
“We know.” Jackie smiles with mischief. “That’s why we’re going there first. We want to meet some of your new hockey boys.” She knocks her narrow hip into mine.
“We can’t. I can get in trouble for that.”
Hannah rolls her eyes at me. “Stevie, it’s fine. No one is going to care if you happen to end up at the same bar as some of the guys on the team.”
“No, you guys don’t get it. I can literally get fired for fraternizing with them.”
“Then don’t fraternize,” Jackie states with a casual shrug. “But just because you can’t hang out with them doesn’t mean we have to avoid them. The least you can do is introduce us.”
I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known better. I should’ve listened to my brother’s warning and realized that the only reason Hannah and Jackie were so eager to hang out with me was that I happened to work for professional athletes, and they thought I would be their hookup.
But no. Screw that. I just don’t know how to get out of the situation now that I’m in it.
Once outside, Hannah and Jackie walk about five feet ahead of me, eager to get to the bars on the main strip in Nashville. There’s a good chance some of the team will be at a fan-favorite, Whiskey Town, but if not, I’m sure my friends from high school will make us bar hop until we find them.
I can only hope that Tara isn’t out tonight. If she’s out on the town and I so happen to be in the same bar as the team, I’m screwed.
Indy texted me when we got to our hotel rooms, telling me to have fun and asking if I wanted to grab brunch with her tomorrow. I quickly said yes, and now I wish I would’ve never told Hannah and Jackie I was back in town. I would’ve much rather had a night on the town with my cool and kind coworker.
“How do we look?” Jackie asks as she and Hannah quickly primp themselves right outside the bar.
“Great,” I absentmindedly answer without looking at them.
We show our IDs at the door, and the two of them quickly scan the scene as soon as we step inside. “There’s an empty table,” Hannah says, pointing towards the back corner of the crowded bar. “Stevie, grab us two vodka-sodas while we snag a table back there.”
Hannah and Jackie loop their arms around each other, taking off to the far corner of the bar. They look exactly the same from behind—long blonde hair, tan legs that lean on the spectrum of orange, and short and petite frames.
Glancing down at myself, I look nothing like them, and being back in this city constantly reminds me that I don’t fit in. That I don’t look like the girls I grew up with. That I don’t fit their construct of “pretty.”
I feel invisible as I attempt to squeeze past the people crowding the bar. No one is even waiting for a drink or ordering a new one, yet no one yields some space for me.
I hate this night already.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt as self-conscious as I do in this moment. It’s as if I’m all too aware of the area I’m occupying, with other bodies swarming around me. It’s as if I need to apologize for existing in this space. For being the size I am. For not being small enough to squeeze past the crowd without bothering anyone.
Eventually, a couple starts aggressively making out. They’re pressed together so closely that it makes just enough room for me to sneak up to the bar top.
The bartender laughs as I sigh in relief, sidling up to the counter. “What can I get you?”
“Can I get two vodka-sodas with lime and an IPA?” She grabs a couple of glasses by her well. “Your biggest IPA.”
A smile forms on her lips as she exchanges the smaller glass for a much larger one. As she turns to the tap, I look up to scan the room, feeling a pair of eyes on me.
Hazel eyes.
Hidden in the back corner of the bar, Zanders pulls his beer to his lips, his eyes shining with amusement and his mouth tugging up in a smile behind the glass bottle as he stares at me.
“You following me?” he silently mouths from across the bar.
11
ZANDERS
“You’re buying all my drinks tonight,” Maddison reminds me as we grab a table in the back of an overly crowded bar across the street from Nashville’s arena.
“Deal.” I keep my head down, and Maddison keeps his hat pulled low, both of us trying to fly under the radar. “Rio, you’re buying tonight,” I call out to my younger teammate.
Maddison shakes his head at me with a low chuckle.
“Again?” Rio whines over the live band filling the bar with country music. “But I always buy. I’m not even a rookie anymore.”
“You’re still the rookie until we find a new one we like.”
He takes off towards the bar without another word.
Maddison’s thumbs are moving a mile a minute, texting someone on his phone. “Logan?” I ask with assumption.
“Yeah.” He lets out a content and happy sigh.
I can’t even give my best friend shit for being completely pussy-whipped by his wife. Honestly, I’m just happy I got him out of his hotel room for once. He’s my closest friend, but I’ve never been able to relate to him in only wanting to sleep with one woman for the rest of my life, let alone spend every waking moment thinking about someone the way Maddison does Logan.
He dreads life on the road and loves being home, whereas I have no reason to look forward to home other than his family. I look forward to a different city each night.
Rio quickly comes back, his hands full, the necks of beer bottles laced between each of his fingers. A hot little redhead follows right behind him, her hands full to the brim with shots.
“No,” Maddison quickly interjects, turning to Rio. “No shots. We play in less than twenty-four hours.”