Page 28 of Sticking Around

Deanna, my server for the night, drops her tray onto the bar and hands me a list with drinks. “Busy night.” She turns to take in the players and a moan catches in her throat. “What do you think of Conner?”

I glance at Conner as he talks to some random girl, as Dani engages Gunther in conversation. “You like him?”

She grins at me. “He’s cute.”

I shrug. “I guess if you’re into guys like that.”

“Oh yeah, which one do you like?”

“None of them,” I tell her.

“Girl, you must be made of ice because there are plenty of hotties to pick from.” She arches one brow. “Maybe you should pick one, you know, to help melt that ice.”

I chuckle as I fill her drink order. “I’m good.”

“Maybe, but if you took one of those guys home, you’d be great.” She’s not wrong, and I plan to do just that, but that’s my little secret. “He’s not with that girl, is he?”

“Dani, you mean?”

“Is that her name?” She watches the two. “He treats her like a sister, but she barely leaves his side, especially when there are so many hot players here.”

“He treats her like a sister because she’s his sister-in-law.”

“Ah, okay.” With a little extra wiggle in her hips, she walks away with her tray and I smile as the guys all slap each other on the back, and I have to say I do enjoy their comradery. This has become a popular spot for them all to hang out since Noah bought the place and I don’t hate it, because all the tips are going to help pay for next semester.

A loud laugh that’s very familiar curls around me and I lift my gaze and spot Brady, Conner and Gunther all joking—the random girl is now chatting with Theo. Once again, the guys keep casting glances my way. What the hell are they talking about now, and why—although Brady is laughing along—does whatever they’re saying seems to be rubbing him the wrong way? I can tell by his body language that something isn’t sitting well with him.

I grab the ice and try not to think about whatever it is they’re talking about, because really, it’s not my business. I just hope the inside joke isn’t about me, although I don’t know why it would be. I don’t think Brady is the kind of guy to kiss and tell, and now that I’ve gotten to know him better, I can see a whole new side to him. The man is tortured, has far too many demons for a guy his age, and has people in his life who’ve been taking advantage of him for far too long.

I swallow down my own pain as I consider the way I dismissed his question after our shower today. He opened up to me, told me something very private about his past, and I simply shut him down. Yeah, I used my studying as an excuse, and he backed right off, because he knows college is important to me. Still, my brush off had to sting a bit, after he shared a big part of his life with me.

The problem is, though, Brady can’t see what’s going on in his own backyard, so to speak. I get that he wants to help his family and that’s admirable. If you ask me, and no one really is, I’d say hockey was money in the bank for his family. An investment in Brady so he could continue to take care of them all into the future. I didn’t say that to him, of course. I didn’t want to hurt him.

Soon enough, it’s dark out, the setting sun sending the kids home for the night, and now the adults are pouring onto the rooftop. Phones are pulled from pockets and pool bags as guests want their pictures taken with the guys, and the single girls, and not so single ones, are all over the guys. I turn my head and try not to let it bother me. It shouldn’t bother me. I’ve seen enough of it since Noah bought the resort. I wasn’t, however, banging and poking with Brady until now. I really have no right to be jealous. He’s not mine. I’m not his. We’re simply playing house until the end of the weekend and while we said we’d do this until he went off to the pre-season, I’m sure once I find my own place, that plan will be out the window. That’s probably for the best.

The tiki lights around me light up, as well as the lights in the pool as a man walks up to the bar and orders a beer. I pour him a draft as he smiles at me, grinning the whole time. I slide it to him. “Here you go.”

He adjusts his hat, and that’s when I place him. He gestures with a nod over his shoulder. “I knew it was Brady Fisher.”

I chuckle. “He does stand out, doesn’t he?”

“People are getting their pictures with him. Do you think he’d mind? He didn’t seem to want the attention this afternoon.”

This afternoon he was with me…and was quite different from the showboat he’s presenting tonight.

I grin, liking that he wanted our time together to be private and real, where he wasn’t loud and obnoxious. Maybe that’s why this man didn’t recognize him at first. “Looks like he’s enjoying himself over there. I’m sure he won’t mind at all.”

“I still owe him twenty.”

I nod, somewhat surprised, but maybe not so surprised at all. He can’t very well walk up and ask for a picture when he owes money. There’s always a catch.

He takes his drink and leaves me a tip. I pocket it. “Thanks, and enjoy your evening.”

He saunters over to Brady, who doesn’t seem surprised to see him at all. I laugh. While the man is constantly taken advantage of, he still has faith in mankind and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a naïve thing. All I know is that I don’t ever plan to be duped again.

Brady lifts his head and catches my eyes, and he has a smirk on his face and I just shake my head in response. He goes back to the pictures, having fun, and I go back to bartending. About thirty minutes later, he saunters up to the bar, a crisp twenty in his hand.

He snaps it. “See, not everyone breaks their promises.”

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