Bishop huffs a laugh and orders the same.
She lifts her head from the notepad in her hand and meets my eyes. Hers are a deep shade of brown, steady and alert. She’s definitely in control, there’s no doubt about that. Something flickers in her gaze when she looks at me, but it’s not recognition. It’s more like…assessment.
Hmm. I wonder if she likes what she sees because I think she’s beautiful.
“And you?” she says like she has no idea who I am.
“Whatever’s on tap is fine, thank you,” I say.
She nods and walks away without another glance.
Killian leans back against the booth and blows out a breath. “Wow. She hates us.”
“Nah,” Sebastian says quietly as we watch her move around the bar. “She just has no idea who you guys are.”
“You think?” Bishop asks.
“She wouldn’t be bashing your careers right in front of you if she knew who you were,” Sebastian explains. “She doesn’t seem the type.”
“Tell that to my expensive pants,” Killian jokes. In tandem Hop, Kill, and I glance down at what we’re wearing. Kill and Hop are wearing designer jeans but having come straight from practice, I’m sporting a comfortable pair of track pants. The idea of my pants being even the least bit expensive makes me chuckle.
We spend the next few minutes laughing about her clothing commentary but then our attention turns to what’s happening a few tables over. A couple guys have been getting kind of unruly and razz the feisty bartender when she delivers their drinks. They’re loud and sloppy, which tells me this isn’t their first round. One of them leans a little too close for my liking, and he must say something she doesn’t like because she freezes.
Her shoulders tense.
Her smile disappears like it never existed.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” she says, her voice tight.
The guy laughs. “Relax, babe. You work in a bar. Comes with the job.”
Something cold settles in my chest and I don’t like it.
She straightens, her eyes flashing with irritation. “You can close your tab. Now.”
He scoffs. “Touchy. Guess most girls like it when?—”
“Stop.” Her word is sharp and final, but he doesn’t stop.
I feel the shift in the room immediately. Bishop does too, I can tell by the way his posture changes. Sebastian goes rigid, and even Killian swears under his breath, which is never a good sign. I’m on my feet before I realize it.
“Hey. That’s enough.” My voice is calm but demanding. “She told you to stop.”
The guy turns his head, eyeing me from where he’s seated. I tower over him in this situation and he knows it. His eyes suddenly flash with recognition.
“No fuckin’ way,” he breathes. “Holy shit. You’re?—”
“Yeah. Leave,” I say, gesturing with nod toward the door.
The bar goes quiet and then another guy at a different table laughs. “Dude, you just got told off by Shepherd Haynes.”
And just like that everything changes.
I feel her eyes on me before I even look her way.
“Shepherd Haynes…” she whispers to herself like she’s heard the name a hundred times but can’t quite place me. Then something clicks. Her eyes widen slightly, and I see the exact moment when she puts it together.
Football.
