“Don’t look at me, Captain,” Rio says. “These generous women at the bar bought us a round. Wanted to wish us good luck tomorrow.”
I look over Maddison’s shoulder to the two girls sitting at the bar top, both hot as hell, as they hold a couple of shot glasses up to us in cheers.
“One won’t hurt.” I grab a shot glass filled with clear liquid.
The chick with copper strands rests her elbows on our high-top, sticking her tits out as she leans in close to Maddison.
“I’ll drink both of ours. I don’t mind,” she seductively offers with a wink.
Maddison, Rio, and I burst into laughter as the redhead furrows her brows in confusion.
I get that there are athletes out there who don’t give a shit if they’re married or not. They’ll sleep around on their partners, especially on the road. Maddison is not that athlete. The guy’s got his ring finger tattooed with his girl’s initials, for Christ’s sake.
“That’s not going to get you anywhere,” I tell the sexy ginger, referring to her hitting on my best friend. “You may as well turn your attention over here.”
Her focus zeroes in on me, quicker than you’d believe, as we connect our shot glasses and throw back the tequila simultaneously.
“Another?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.
I glance up at Maddison, who is clearly uncomfortable. I promised him a boy’s night, at least starting out. Besides, he won’t last long before he decides to sneak back to the hotel and call his wife. Maybe I’ll work on expanding my Nashville roster once he goes.
“Not tonight,” I tell her, referring to more than just another drink.
“I’m Rio!” my teammate bursts, finding an opening to get a little attention.
“Rio...I like that name.” She nods towards the bar for him to follow her back to her friends.
My teammate quickly stands from his seat, his green eyes shining with excitement.
“Have I taught him nothing?” I ask Maddison, watching Rio behind his shoulder, looking thirsty as fuck and not for more alcohol. “We don’t chase women. Women chase us.”
“You don’t chase women. Women chase you,” he corrects with a laugh. “Don’t lump me in with your bullshit.”
“Fair.”
A couple of petite blondes take the table directly next to us, trying to make eye contact as they sit. Maddison doesn’t notice, but my gaze drags up and down both of them. They’re cute, but their fake tan is leaning dangerously close to Oompa-Loompa status, and the desperation for attention radiates off them. I quickly avert my focus back to my table, uninterested in either of them.
“What’s the plan for our delayed Halloween? Has Ella decided what we’re going to be yet?”
An amused smile forms on Maddison’s lips. “Yep.”
“And?”
I don’t know if anything will compare to last year when two-year-old Ella Jo decided she was going to be The Hulk for Halloween, and therefore our crew took on the rest of the Marvel characters as we walked our block in Chicago. It was quite the sight for our neighbors to see my little niece decked out in green paint with her parents and three uncles dressed to the nines right along with her.
I’m pretty sure it’s as fun for us as it is for Ella to go all-out as much as we do. It’s been our tradition since she was born to coordinate in group costumes. Even when we miss Halloween because of road games, like this year, we make sure to make it up sometime in November.
“She’s going to be Belle from Beauty and the Beast.”
“Oh, hell yes. I call dibs on being the Beast.”
Maddison shakes his head to tell me no.
“What? I have to be the fucking teacup or something?”
“Ella said she doesn’t want to do Beauty and the Beast. Apparently, the theme this year is Disney princesses.”
I almost choke on my beer, and Maddison’s laugh is deep and full.
“Fine,” I resign, knowing I’ll do anything for my favorite three-and-a-half-year-old. “I call dibs on the Little Mermaid then.”
“Have you met my kid?” Maddison asks rhetorically. “She’s already assigned all of us. And if you think my wife, with red-ass hair, is going to let you be Ariel, you’re mistaken.”
I can’t help but laugh. And not only because it’s going to be fucking hilarious to see us all dressed up like a bunch of princesses roaming the streets of Chicago on Halloween. But because we’re having this conversation in the middle of a crowded bar in Nashville, surrounded by women who would love nothing more than our attention. However, all we can talk about is my best friend’s spunky daughter, who we’d all do just about anything to make happy.
“So, who am I?”
“You, my friend, are Elsa.”
“Elsa?!” I interject. “Fuck Frozen.”
“The little miss spoke.” Maddison puts his hands up. “She makes the rules.”
I shake my head in disappointment. “Fucking Elsa? Little EJ is killing me.” I’m going to have to have a conversation with my niece about that one.
Pulling my beer to my lips, my eyes immediately get drawn to the chestnut curls bouncing around by the bar. I’d recognize them anywhere. In fact, I thought about the owner of that wild mane far too often this week.
How does this keep happening? It’s like the universe wants to test me.
Stevie seems overwhelmed at the bar as she orders herself a drink.
Is she by herself again?
I press my ass into my seat, willing myself to stay put. But all I want to do is go over there, buy her drink, and maybe mess with her a bit. I like seeing her get flustered, though lately, she seems to be the one flustering me.
Maddison’s gaze follows mine as he turns to see who it is that holds my attention.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks. “Did you tell her to meet you here? Zee, what the hell are you doing, man?”
“I didn’t tell her shit. This keeps happening. It’s like the universe is begging me to fuck her.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I’m kidding.” Sort of. “But she’s kind of hot, right?”
“We aren’t talking about this.” Maddison shakes his head. “She works for us.”
Deciding to stay silent on that one, I keep my stare on the flight attendant across the room.
“Would it really be the worst thing in the world if we hooked up? I mean, it’d just be one time. To get it out of our systems.”
“Our systems? Like you and her?” Maddison laughs condescendingly. “You mean your system. Last I checked, she’s not a fan of yours whatsoever.”
“Everyone is a fan of me.”
Maddison peeks over his shoulder to the bar then back to me, shaking his head. “You do you, man. But that girl is going to be on our plane all year. You’re going to fuck her and never think about her again, and she’s going to fall for you, like they all do. But the difference is this time, you’re going to have to see her on the plane after every single road game.”
I kind of like the way that sounds—seeing her after every game.
Attempting to hide my smile, I bring my bottle back to my lips and take a swig. Finally, Stevie’s blue-green eyes meets mine.
“You following me?” I silently mouth across the bar to her.