Page 12 of Tough Score
"Maybe I’m jealous of the idea of you sitting in another man’s seat. Would it be so bad if I want to see you in mine?"
I’m taken by surprise by his claim of being jealous. So much so that I’m tongue-tied and I’m not sure how to respond.
Egging him on when I know that dating me could result in him losing his hockey career would be reckless on my part.
When I don’t answer right away, he flashes me another smile.
“Think about it. I’ll keep my seats open,” he says, and then turns and heads for the pool table and the group of guys waiting for him.
Oh, trust me… it's the only thing I'll be thinking about for some time.
After an hour of trying to keep myself from getting caught making googly eyes at Reeve all night, my uncle walks up to me as I restock beer bottles in the under-counter fridges.
"It's getting late and you have that interview tomorrow morning. Clock out and head home, okay? You should be well rested for tomorrow's interview."
"You're sure you don't need me?" I ask, glancing around the packed bar and the two other bartenders that are still running to keep up with the demand.
It's just past eleven p.m., and since Oakley's is only open until one a.m., they only have two more hours left anyway. He's right; I do need sleep since my interview is at nine a.m. tomorrow, but I won't leave him if he needs me.
"I'm sure," he looks up and over at the crowded bar.
"Hey, Reeve!" he yells.
I fight the instant urge to duck behind the bar and hide from the eyes that turn toward my uncle's booming voice. My uncle and my father are both so similar in that way. Neither have ever minded being the center of attention, but I'd prefer to stay behind the scenes… invisible if possible. If I stay under the radar, people won't ask "Oh… aren't you that horrible mobster racketeering guy's daughter?".
Instead, I stand there, squirming in place with my eyes focused on Reeve and not at the other eyes on me.
He still has a pool stick in his hand even though he’s not playing this game. He and Seven won their first few games, and based on the large chalkboard hanging against the wall behind him, they’re at the top of the player bracket. They’ll play the winner of this game for bragging rights and their bar tab paid for. For Reeve, it isn’t much since he’s only on his second beer of the night.
He turns his head at my uncle, calling out his name.
"What's up?" Reeve asks.
"Can you walk Keely out to her car? She’s clocking out and it's too dark out there for her to be out alone."
The horror must be obvious on my face because Reeve's eyes shift to mine.
"No, I'm fine. I can walk by myself. I parked right across the street, so I'm not even that far away," I say, trying to reason my way out of having to be escorted out to my car by a man I shouldn't already be crushing on.
Besides, I've lived independently for so many years now. I can't even remember the last time someone walked me to my car. My dad was in prison for half of my life and my last relationship ended years ago.
"Yeah, I'm on my way," Reeve says, turning to set his pool stick in the holder against the wall and his beer down on a communal table that a few of the players are using.
My uncle turns to me. "Don't be ridiculous. We usually walk out together at the end of the night, but since the bar is busy, I can't walk out with you. Reeve isn't doing anything while he waits for his next game, and you can trust him; he's probably the only unattached player who won't hit on you."
Yeah, but he might offer me his season tickets so that he doesn't have to deal with the jealousy of seeing me in another player’s seat. What would you call that?
My uncle’s opinion on Reeve not coming on to me should set my mind at ease, especially since I've dated a professional player in the past, and it didn't end well.
Maybe the light banter from earlier was all that transpired between us—just talk.
"He won't hit on me? Why do you say that?"
"Because I haven't seen him leave the bar with a woman in about a year since he ended his last relationship."
He hasn't dated since his last relationship?
Did she crush him that hard?