“I’ll be right back.” I gently squeeze her forearm and then walk toward the bar. The crowd has grown exponentially since we arrived, so the poor bartenders are running around trying to attend to everyone.
I raise my hand to grab the attention of one of the bartenders, and as they notice me, I see Tate across the bar.
She’s chatting with a guy I’ve never seen before, but I’m pretty sure he’s one of the MSU hockey players because he looks familiar, but I’m not sure from over here.
What I am sure of is that Tate has had more drinks than she needs.
Maybe it’s the only thing that’s helping her survive the crowd. She can’t stand parties on campus, and she knows the majority of the people who attend them.
Only about one percent of the people in this bar, Tate knows.
“What can I get for you?” The bartender asks, tossing a towel over their shoulder.
I lift the beer in my hand, “Could I get five more of these and a vodka soda, please?”
“Sure thing.”
I doubt Tate came here by herself; Brinley is probably somewhere around here. She’s probably the person who found this bar in the first place.
But I don’t see Brinley. Or Maia.
Maybe Maia ditched once we showed up so she wouldn’t run into Cam. But I don’t know where Brinley would’ve gotten off to.
The bartender gets distracted by one of his coworkers, so I take this time to head over and talk to Tate.
I don’t know how to even start this conversation because I know for a fact she won’t be thrilled with me being the one to cut her off. She’s usually really good about not drinking too much, but tonight, she’s definitely gone way over her limit.
My theory proves right because the second she sees me, the light in her eyes seems to disappear.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She forces a smile and then takes another sip of the drink sitting in front of her. The one she doesn’t need.
“You know this guy?” The guy sitting next to her sizes me up. Like, I’m the threatening one when he’s being a little too touchy with someone who has obviously had too much to drink.
“I do. What do you need, Fletch?”
“I think it’s time you cut yourself off, Tate. I appreciate you celebrating our win—”
“Ah, you’re a Rockford player. I thought you looked familiar. I’m Robby.”
“You play for MSU?” It’s posed as a question, but I already know the answer.
“I’m the goalie.”
“Did a pretty shitty job at your position tonight. Let quite a few weak shots through.”
“Fletch.” Tate rolls her eyes, but Robby doesn’t seem to mind the jab.
“Maybe. I was somewhat distracted by the beautiful girl sitting in the stands. She may go to your school, but it looks like she was rooting for the opposing team tonight.”
That’s when I notice Tate’s jersey. It’s an MSU jersey.
“Where did you even get that?” I lean forward, resting against the bar.
“Doesn’t matter. Pretty sure you’ve got a date to get back to.” Tate polishes off her drink. “And Robby and I were just getting ready to head out of here.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tate. Where’s Brin? Maybe you should go home with her.”
