“For an hour, and it sucked ass.” He laughed, then shared a look with me. “We had fun though, didn't we Grace?”
Uh oh. Was he flirting again? I ignored the ball of guilt and smiled at him. “Yeah. It wasn't as bad as it could've been.”
Brock’s face tightened, his jaw clenching a little bit. “I see.”
“Bro, she would've been here for hours.” Logan bit back.
Brock turned his eyes to me. They narrowed. Great. We were back to pissed off Brock.
I did what I always did when things got uncomfortable; I tried to break the mood. I held up my hands, walking toward Brock. “Look at my granny hands. Look at them! Please tell me I passed the hazing test. These babies can't take anymore. I'm going to smell like Dawn dish soap for months.” My voice rose, my crazy coming out a bit. But, it worked. Brock’s face softened, his lips curving more than they were seconds before.
“I planned on stopping in here earlier, to help or relieve you of it. But, I should've known. You work hard, kid,” Brock said, jutting his chin out at me in a nod. My blood chilled at the use of the word kid. I hated that word. “So, is Maggie's happening or no?”
I shrugged. “I can go for one drink. I have a hot date tonight, so I have to leave to get ready.”
“A hot date? Oh, do tell.” Logan slung his arm around me. “Did you drive here? I can drive you to Maggie's. But, you're buying.”
I don't know why I chose to look at Brock at that moment, but his expression was so annoyed it sucked the breath out of me. It made no sense. Absolutely nothing would've caused that look of misery. His eyes looked tortured, lost, and sad all for a second. Then, he was back to normal. What the hell?
“I, uh, I drove here,” I answered Logan while looking back at Brock. “I'll meet you both there, yeah?”
“Sure,” Logan said, then mumbled something to Brock.
I didn't hear what Logan said, but Brock’s voice carried down the hall. The words were clearly understandable, and I could hear every syllable, but they didn’t make any sense.
“Leave her the fuck alone, Logan.”
* * *
Maggie's wasa short drive from the stadium. The lone Irish bar in town was known for their amazing drinks and authentic food. I found some old body spray in my bag and used it to cover the sweat from the day because I had definitely sweated. I was un-showered, sweaty, had prune hands, and no make-up on. But, I didn't care. A nice cold beer was just what I needed to mentally prepare myself for the date. My neck got all tense just thinking about the entire thing, even though it was good for me.
I wiped under my eyes, then about shit myself when someone knocked on my window. “God, Brock, you scared me.”
“I saw you sitting there. I'd figure I'd walk in with you.” He stood, hands in his pockets and not at all looking like the hot mess I was. I locked my car, only taking my phone and wallet with me. “How's your knee?”
“Honestly, no pain today.” I smiled at him, noticing his relaxed shoulders and easy smile. I liked this banter with him. “Now that I'm done serving until the season is over, I'll be fine.”
“I hope so. Tell me if it's hurting though and I'll see if I can help.” He pushed open the door, holding it for me, so I had to walk by and brush his arm in the process. I didn't suck in a breath to smell him. Nope. That would be weird.
“No promises.” I found us a booth. “I probably won't tell you. I hate feeling weak.” I slid into the seat, expecting him to sit across from me, but no. He slid right next to me. His thigh pressed against mine, causing my heart to hammer so hard I swore he could hear it. I took care of my body, I ate well, enjoyed drinking from time to time. Why did she betray me?
“You are anything but weak, Grace.” His low voice hit me in the feels. “You're impressive.”
“Did you just compliment me? Wow. I'll put that in the calendar,” I said, wishing I could take it back. “Uh, sorry. I'm tired, and my filter left for the day.”
“Do I not compliment you?” His brows came down, and his head tilted slightly to the left. It was so endearing and innocent, like he had no idea he rarely gave praise.
I wet my bottom lip before speaking. “I don't need praise. I know I work hard. However, it would be nice to know if I'm doing things correctly. But before you say anything, I know you'd let me know immediately if I did something wrong. I don't know. It wouldn't kill you to say good job.”
Technically, he was my boss. But, he needed to hear the truth. His response was to rub his hand over his sexy jaw, his fingers coming up to pull at the side of his lip. God, why did everything he do look sexy?
“I'll work on that.” He hit the table a couple of times, nodding to himself. “Grace, you work harder than anyone who's been assigned to us. I kept waiting to see if the girl who wore that black dress the first day would quit or break a nail, but you are so much more than that first impression.”
“Ah, well, technically, boss man, it was at the bar.” I didn't like the black dress and stereotyping he did, but he had admitted he was wrong. I couldn't hold that grudge for long.
“Shit. Yeah, that too.” He turned his head to look at me, a smile breaking out on his face. “You're something—”
“Hey bitches,” Logan interrupted, and a surge of annoyance flashed across Brock’s face. “I ordered us three Guinness’s. That cool?”
