“Anna,” I start, glad to have found out her name, “this is Nick, his wife Tina, Ben—who we all call Dozer—and Jenny, his girlfriend.” I do my best to not make the last word a question, and Jenny preens at being called Dozer’s girlfriend.
She half stands, reaching out to shake Anna’s hand. “Hi!” she chirps brightly. “So nice to meet you! I didn’t know Troy knew someone in town. Why is this the first we’re meeting your friend?” she asks me.
Nick turns his laughter into a coughing fit, while Dozer ducks his head, whispering something to Jenny that has her bright, cheerful smile dimming. She’s a sweet girl, but she doesn’t seem too quick on the uptake.
Tina turns wide eyes on me, smoothly ignoring Jenny in favor of welcoming Anna. “Hi, Anna. So nice to meet you. Why don’t you have a seat next to me?” She elbows Nick, forcing him to scoot around to the middle where I’d been before I spotted Anna being cornered by assholes. He grumbles, but moves anyway, allowing Anna and I to slide onto the end.
It’s a tighter fit at the booth with an extra person, and she looks up at me through her rimless glasses, eyes wide, though I’m not sure if it’s from surprise or concern when I sit next to her. I do my best to give her space, keeping as close to the edge of the bench as possible without falling off. For her part, Tina gets cozy with Nick, helping me make sure that Anna has a comfortable amount of personal space.
“I’m the office manager at the local dental office,” Anna says to Tina. I’m assuming Tina asked her what she does, though I missed that part. “I’m here with some friends.” She gestures toward a table of women, one of whom is watching us with a bemused expression. Anna waves at the woman, then gives a large, obvious shrug.
My eyes immediately cut to the assholes, but they’re not paying attention to us, thank god. They’re still here, though, so the coast isn’t clear yet.
“Sorry to hijack your evening,” I lean in close and say to Anna. “As soon as those guys leave, you can go back to your friends. I just don’t want to risk them cornering you somewhere again.”
Her liquid brown eyes gaze into mine, her plump lips curving in a tiny smile. “Thank you.” The words are little more than a whisper. Gazing around us, she sips her drink, and after observing her while she stood at the bar, I have the distinct impression that her wandering gaze isn’t because she finds our company or conversation boring, but because she enjoys people-watching.
I can relate to that. That’s what I was doing when she caught my attention, after all. Part of it’s an occupational hazard—always being aware of what’s going on around me. Looking for openings, trouble, oncoming defenders …
That’s how I spotted the trouble brewing around Anna. I saw her clear relief from across the bar when she moved into my line of sight, and I glanced back to where she came from to see what she was so happy to be escaping. And then I watched the trio of assholes moving for the attack like an opposing team’s center and forwards. Except Anna didn’t have a pair of defenders and a goalie at her back. My instincts kicked in, and here we are.
Leaning in close again, I pitch my voice low. “Anyone interesting?”
She jerks her head in my direction, looking like a kid caught with her hand in the candy jar.
“Sometimes I like to guess what people are doing,” I murmur, leaning back and slouching down to make it easier for her to see past me. I jerk my chin at the couple at the bar near where the guys cornered her. “Like those two. They’re clearly together, but what do you think? First date? Fifth? Old married couple?”
When I chance a glance at her, she’s grinning, and the sight fills me with satisfaction. Much better than the cornered, scared look she hadn’t quite shaken after the encounter with the assholes.
She hums thoughtfully. “Not a first date. They don’t look awkward and uncomfortable enough for that.” That makes me chuckle. “Plus,” she continues, and I glance at her again, catching her wrinkling her nose, “this is a terrible place for a first date.”
That has my eyebrows shooting up. “You think so? I could see the casual atmosphere being good for meeting someone you don’t know. Where was your last first date?”
A strangled laugh pops out of her, and she covers it with a sip of her drink. “Well, we met in college, so it was a little different. We knew each other from classes, so the first date wasn’t that awkward.” She glances at me, a self-deprecating smile on her lips. “Well, at least no more than usually awkward for me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shaking her head, she chuckles and gestures at herself. “I’m not sure if you’re just pretending surprise or if you genuinely haven’t noticed, but”—biting her lip, she darts a look around, leaning toward me and lowering her voice—“I’m a little awkward,” she finishes in a whisper.
That makes me laugh, and I sip my beer, grinning at her. “Coulda fooled me.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning. “Okay. Sure. If you say so.”
I’m tempted to say something else, push harder at this, but her reaction makes it seem like this is more than just lighthearted banter, and I don’t think she’d want a random dude telling her about herself. Hell, maybe she is awkward even if I haven’t seen any evidence of it yet. Maybe it takes time for the awkwardness to really come out, like how some chicks seem normal until you get to know them, and then they let the crazy out to play.
Some dudes are that way too, though. Hell, I’ve had some teammates that seem nice at first, then you get to know them and they’re just sadistic assholes. One guy I played with in college was that way, finding special joy in hurting the opposing team on the ice, taking cheap shots when the refs weren’t looking, provoking fights, and generally going way too far.
If all Anna’s worried about is a little social awkwardness, I can work with that. I refocus my attention on the couple at the bar. “I think you’re right about them, though. Not enough awkwardness for a first date. Do we think they’re still in the early stages of a relationship, though? Or have they been together for a long time? Old married couple with kids?”
She giggles, shaking her head. “They’re not old enough for that. I dunno. They seem comfortable together, so they’ve at least known each other a while. Could be a friends-to-lovers thing, though. Maybe they’ve worked together for years, know each other well, and this is their first date.”
“I thought you didn’t approve of a bar for a first date?”
Another giggle, but this was right after taking a sip of her drink, so she covers her mouth with her hand, and it’s about the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Her brown bob falls forward, partially blocking my view of her profile with her glasses sliding down, her cute nose wrinkled in mirth, the dimples that pop out when she laughs or smiles, and pretty pink lips compressed to keep herself from doing a spit take. Once she controls herself enough, she playfully smacks my arm. “You’re going to make me choke!” she protests, pushing her glasses back up her nose.
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Apologies. I wasn’t trying to be funny, but it’s gratifying that you think I am.”
She’s still grinning as she shakes her head. “Whether or not I think a bar is a good venue for a first date is irrelevant to what they think about it. But no, I don’t actually think it’s a first date. I was standing near them, and they were pretty freely touching each other. Not in a gross way, but in a comfortable, been-together-a-while kind of way.”