Page 75 of Between the Blue
I give him a tight smile back before continuing to walk in the direction of the garage. I only get a few steps though before I hear Rhett’s voice again.
“Hey, are you coming out with us after?”
“Um…” I murmur, turning back towards him. “Out?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “We probably have another twenty minutes of press, but then we’re gonna head to the usual place.”
“The usual place?” I repeat.
“Randall’s Tavern,” he clarifies, realizing I’m clearly unaware. “We go there after most of our home games. Or at least the ones we don’t have to travel right after.” Rhett adjusts his cap on his head, watching me for any sort of response. When I don’t give him one, he adds, “You should come. It’ll be fun. Stick around for a little while and you can follow us there.”
I open my mouth, my voice getting lost somewhere in my surprise at being invited and the feeling deep in my gut telling me I shouldn’t accept the invitation. “I…”
“Great,” Rhett grins. “See ya in a bit, Little Dixon!” He calls over his shoulder with a wave as he jogs back in the direction of the locker room.
My mouth closes again.
Well, okay then.
twenty
HER
I’m not sure what I expected of Randall’s Tavern, but it certainly wasn’t the hole-in-the wall I end up parking in front of next to the line of Range Rovers and Mercedes driven by the players.
But as I walk inside now, I immediately get it.
The outside is deceiving. The actual bar inside is so much larger than it appears. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a fun place with a cozy, relaxed atmosphere. The more I think about it, it actually makes sense that the players would choose to come to a small, inconspicuous place like this fifteen minutes away from the arena rather than one of the upscale downtown bars right across the street from it. Their chances of getting mobbed by fans has to decrease significantly by coming here, and they’re perfectly able to get by at Randall’s with their casual wear rather than having to put their suits back on.
My eyes quickly land on the table just ahead where the players are gathered, their huge frames and various matching Texas Storm gear making it pretty easy. My eyes scan over the guys quickly as I approach, not finding Ben there yet. I know that Rhett invited me, and that I have every right to be here, but something just tells me that Ben won’t be too thrilled about it. I don’t know why I care.
I don’t, actually.
But it doesn’t stop me from looking for him.
Part of me wonders if it’s just become a habit for me at this point.
A woman steps into my line of sight, blocking my view and making my feet come to a stop as I reach the edge of the group. She pushes her short blonde hair behind her ear, and I catch sight of her face, automatically recognizing her as the girl from the preseason game. The one that was behind the bench.
The one that hugged Ben.
It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that I’m staring at her, and, unfortunately, the moment I realize, she makes eye contact with me.
I immediately start to shift my gaze away, but stop when I see her face light up with a huge smile. My brows raise as she takes the few steps necessary to close the distance between us, and I try to understand what’s happening, but I don’t get a chance to before she is hooking her elbow with mine like we’re old best friends.
“Oh my gosh,” she says. “You’re the new photography and social media intern.”
“I…” I begin, stunned. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“I knew it,” she says, playfully squinting her blue-green eyes at me. “I’ve been loving your posts. I could totally tell the shift in the content once you came on.”
I tilt my head at her, trying to remember the time when I wanted to instantly hate this girl. Talking to her now, that seems like a nearly impossible feat. She’s extremely bubbly and outgoing. Not to mention going out of her way to pay a sweet compliment to a girl she doesn't even know. And, not that it matters, but she may just be one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. She has these doll-like features, between her pale blonde hair, doe eyes, and full pink lips, but withher blunt, shoulder length bob, immaculate sense of style, and overwhelming confidence, she has this edge to her that makes her magnetic.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “I really appreciate it.”
The next words out of my mouth are about to be asking her who she is, but she beats me to it, unhooking her elbow from mine and holding out her hand.
“Caroline Barrett,” she states. “I have to tell you, it’s so nice to know another young girl is going to be around this season.”
