As the coaches filed out and our teammates wandered off to the showers, my attention returned to John.
Baird clapped me on the shoulder. “Tomorrow … let’s grab dinner and a beer.” He jerked his chin in John’s direction as theCanadian wandered toward the shower room, oblivious, lost in his own thoughts.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s the anniversary of his mum’s passing tomorrow.”
Fuck.
John had told us on a drunken night out last year that his mum died of cancer three years ago. The loss had put a strain on his and his father’s relationship because his dad had completely fallen apart. John had accepted the position on Caley only two months later. I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly. “He played well, then.”
“Aye. He pulled himself together long enough to get through it. I cannae imagine that, man.” Baird looked pained thinking on the idea of losing his mum.
Unfortunately, I didn’t need to imagine it. “It’s fucking brutal.”
My friend clapped me on the shoulder in sympathy. “He knows you get it. Think it helps.”
“It’s the one club I wish we weren’t both a member of.” I grabbed my toiletries out of my locker. “Let’s hit the Orchard tomorrow. We’ll get some peace there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We had to convince John to come out with us the next evening, but it didn’t take long with some beer and pub grub in his belly for his mood to lift a bit. We’d taken my four-by-four and left it parked at my flat, because the bar-restaurant was only a ten-minute walk from my place.
I pretended not to notice Beth’s car in the car park when we left. Could have sworn she said she had a date with some computer prick tonight.
The bar sat in the middle of the floor plan, with tables and chairs skirting the edges of the room on one side and more tables and chairs up a wee set of stairs at the front so diners could sit at the windows and watch the world pass by. We took three stools at the bar.
When we’d first sat down and ordered food, I’d turned to John and told him we could talk about it if he wanted. He said he was grateful, but he didn’t want to. Not today. We’d sat on a corner of the bar to make an L-shape so conversation was easier. A few folks had recognized us, including the bartender (who offered to keep a free-drinks tab open for us), and had come over to congratulate us for yesterday’s game. But otherwise, we were left alone to chat among ourselves. About the game. About a girl John had gone on an unheard-of fourth date with. About the castle Baird and I wanted to buy but couldn’t because Braden Carmichael still wouldn’t meet us.
We were so lost in conversation that I hadn’t seen her come into the bar.
The flash of long blond hair and the certain way she walked drew my attention as she approached the lower end of the bar. The bartender grinned flirtatiously at Beth Carmichael as she ordered. I watched her glance over her shoulder, following her gaze to a bloke who sat at a nearby table, his eyes glued to her.
Fuck.
She was on her date.
Here.
She tucked her hair behind her ear as she turned back to wait for the drinks. Who sent a woman to the bar to buy the drinks? Call me old-fashioned, but … no. I didn’t even properly date and I wouldn’t dream of making her pay.
“Earth to Keen.” John waved a hand in front of my face and I blinked rapidly, as Beth looked up the bar and locked eyes with me.
Her lips parted in surprise and then she scowled, looking away.
“What are you staring at …” Baird turned to follow my gaze. His face lit up. “Beth!”
Oh fuck.
Just like that, her expression transformed as she beamed that gorgeous smile Baird’s way. “Long time, no see, stranger!”
Baird hopped off his stool, abandoning his food, a rarity in itself. “Come give me a hug, friend.” His voice boomed around the bar.
Beth laughed but pushed off the bar to walk into his arms like they were in fact old friends.
My pulse hammered as I watched them talk, this time their voices too quiet to be heard.
John nudged me. “You ever going to tell us how you know her?”
