Page 9 of One Shot

“No, no hard alcohol for me,” I say as Liam orders shots. I see him look at Bren, and she gives him a look I can’t read.

“Light beer?” Liam asks.

“Perfect. Bud Light, please.”

Liam orders our drinks, and someone yells at him from across the bar.

“William Grizzly Welsh. Who the hell do you think you are ordering a Bud Light?! Your ass doesn’t have to be in shape yet. Real practice starts next week. Hey, Joe, buddy, give that man an extra shot for me, please.”

“See! People call me Grizzly!” Liam boasts to Bren.

I look across the bar to see who harassed Liam over my beer order. It’s even more crowded than when we arrived for dinner. I can’t figure out who it is, but from the way the mystery man talked to Liam, I’m assuming it’s a guy from the team. Then my eyes find them, five of them to be exact, on the other side of the bar.

Their flowy hair, their muscular builds, their cockiness filling the air around them, and of course, a blonde bombshell next to one of them. She looks exactly like she stepped out of a pink Barbie box, outfit and all. Yep, the hockey team, or at least some of the hockey team, has arrived.

I take another calming deep breath and a sip of my beer. Nick played with some of them. I wonder which ones he would warn me about.

“Thanks for the free shot, man. You know, Joe and I go way back; I used to bartend here.”

Liam raises the shot to a guy opposite the bar. That must be who made the comment about my Bud Light.

“That goes on Donato’s tab, right Joe?” Liam asks Joe.

Joe smiles and gives Liam a thumbs up before placing the rest of our drinks on the bar.

I look across the bar to see a middle finger held up in response to Liam. Of course, it’s the guy next to the perfect blonde Barbie. She whispers something in his ear. They clink the glasses together and down a shot in sync. Barbie kisses him on the cheek and walks away.

Someone please explain to me how I can be jealous of Barbie when I’m pretty sure I haven’t met this ‘Donato’ guy? Based on his appearance, I would bet money that he is someone Nick would tell me to stay away from.

I sneak a second look at him.

Okay, I am positive I’ve never met this guy. I would remember a guy with arms like that. His biceps subtly pop out of his t-shirt, and I do mean subtly. He’s not absurdly over muscular with meathead arms. The type of guy who tries to get as much muscle as possible just to show it off to anyone and everyone. That doesn’t seem to be his style.

He has strong toned arms you just can’t help but notice because you’re so curious if your hands would fit around his biceps all the way, even though you know they won’t. Unlike the meathead, he would never ask anyone to try and find out. God no, he wouldn’t even let you if you asked! Well, not in public at least.

My goodness those arms are so tan too. I mean he’s so tan. I can’t stop looking at his arms though. Is that tan natural? I swear I try to achieve that sun-kissed to perfection glow but can’t keep it for more than a week if I don’t lay out every few days in the summer. His t-shirt shows off the rest of his muscles too but with a mysterious air surrounding his body. It’s not skintight like Liam’s is, which I know Bren loves. It really makes me wonder if the rest of his body matches those sexy arms.

I shake my head. Wow, I’ve been taking in this stranger, gawking. This delectable Greek God, who is a hockey player, that I will have to see often. That I’ll have to work with. Maybe he didn't notice?

Shit.

He noticed. His brown eyes lock onto mine and hold me captive.

His face is flawless, brown stubble that goes along with shaggy brown hair. He’s looking at me with an intensity I have never seen before, as though he’s staring into my soul. He drinks me in, not afraid to have another glass and find out what more there is to me.

His eyes are the lightest shade of brown I’ve ever seen, sucking the air from my chest. It’s like God ran out of brown to match the dark brown eyes of the rest of the world. Instead, he improvised with a few specks of gold. I wish I could capture the unique color with the lens of my camera, but it would never do justice to the depths of the golds and browns intertwined.

Damn him and damn his eyes. Looking into them makes me wonder—not about him but about myself and what I would let him do if he were next to me and if this wasn’t a crowded bar full of people. A crooked smirk spreads across his face. He knows. Is he a mind reader?How can he possibly know by looking into my eyes that I’d be easily tempted to let him sprawl me across this bar without him even saying a single word to me.

“Let’s head to a table.” Bren’s voice pulls me back into reality as I look away from the enticing hockey player. Train of thought over. No being sprawled.

“What? Oh. Yes. Table. Good. After you.” I shake my head again and take a deep breath. Who the hell am I? No. No guys. I’m content alone after my last relationship. Content on my own for the rest of my life. No dating and no love, especially not with any hockey players. I take a sip of my beer and follow Bren to our table.

I look to where he, Donato, had been, but he’s gone. Sitting down at the table with Bren and Liam, I take a deep breath again, trying to get the thought of that crooked smirk and beautiful, daring eyes out of my head. Did I really think I’d let him sprawl me across the bar? Who the hell am I?

“You okay?” Bren asks me. I take another sip of my watery beer, noticing it’s half gone now.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

---