“And some spicy wings too,” Cass said. “I’m starved.”
Tucker shook his head, but ended his protest to go order. The table fell into an awkward silence, and everyone tried real hard to keep from looking at me. Which, all things considered, should’ve been my cue to leave. But I was boxed in between Cass and Mason on my right, and Hunter and Grayson on my left.
“Was it something I said?” Cass scanned the avoidant faces, a bemused smile on her face.
I let out a low laugh. “I think I just killed their vibe.”
“Holly, right?” She seemed to just realize there was an outsider at the table. “You’re Hunter’s new handler or whatever.”
“Keeping a close eye on him tonight,” Josie chirped. The huge eye-roll that came with it could’ve taken out a small city. “Apparently it’s against the rules to want to post fun moments with my friends.”
Cass winced, immediately putting two and two together. “You told her to put her phone away, didn’t you?”
“What I did was my job.”
She laughed, and patted my shoulder. “You’ll be the villain for five minutes, and then it’ll pass. Trust me.”
As if to prove her point in action, Theo broke the ice and started talking about their upcoming game. The guys went for it, allowing themselves to get drawn into talk about training goals and possible plays to execute.
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” I whispered to Cass when I was sure nobody was paying us any more attention.
She shrugged. “When Mason and I first started dating… It’s a lot. Different rules, different expectations. You can’t win every moment, so you pick the ones that matter and let the rest roll off.”
I took a sip of my beer. It was flat, kind of like how I felt. “That’s good advice.”
“It’s survival,” she said with a small grin. “Also, if you can manage Nightmare Bob, you can handle anything.”
My jaw tightened. “You know about him too, huh?”
“Don’t let him see you sweat,” she said. “He’s like a shark. Blood in the water and all that.”
I exhaled, some of the tension leaking out. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Across the booth, Theo cracked a joke in French, Mason barked a laugh, and Josie scrolled her phone with a thumb too fast for me to track. Hunter was quieter now, one arm on the back of the bench, beer in his other hand. He was tipsy, but not sloppy. His gaze flicked between me and the room like he was following a game only he couldsee.
Cass nudged me gently. “He’s not an easy one,” she murmured, not specifying who, but I knew.
“No kidding,” I said under my breath.
Time blurred after that. Wings, drinks, laughter I wasn’t part of. The freeze-out wasn’t as harsh as before Cass intervened, but it was there: fewer looks, quieter jokes, a cage around me with a sign that read “Don’t feed the PR consultant”. I took it in my stride, reminded myself why I was here, and kept things professional.
Hunter caught me watching once, and instead of looking away, he smiled. It was a loose one, a little crooked, clearly a product of the alcohol.
I glanced at the time on my phone. It was almost midnight and I had an early meeting at the arena tomorrow.
I started to gather my things when a voice said, “Dance with me.”
Hunter had somehow managed to slide out of the booth without me noticing, and now stood with a hand reached out to me. The noise of the bar rolled around us, some old Springsteen song playing over the speakers.
“You’re drunk,” I said.
“Am not.” And that lopsided smile glinted mischievously in his eyes. “And there’s no passing up Springsteen. Them’s the rules.”
Around us, the table had gone watchful again, and my skin prickled under the weight of their attention. I’d had enough for one night. For a whole season, in fact.
“I have an early morning, and so do you.” My tone was even, businesslike, as I stood up. “You should probably think about calling it a night soon.”
