Page 1 of One Timer With A Wingman

PROLOGUE

Briar

2 weeksbefore Christmas

Black Jack’sis packed to the rim. The tables are full and bodies are lined against the bar. I take the Thursday night shift because it’s one of the busiest nights of the week. Only my legs are killing me tonight from an intense gymnastics practice this afternoon. I’m dreaming of a warm shower. A bath would be even better, but my house doesn’t have one. I just have to get through another two hours. The countdown is on. I don’t have classes early on Friday, which is why I take the late shift Thursday.

I walk up to a table filled with football players. Everyone knows who they are. “What can I get everyone?” I ask with the iPad ready in my hand to take orders.

“How about you for the evening?” a guy named Eli says. I’m used to guys hitting on me at work. It seems to be an occupational hazard, but I never hook up with them. I had a friend I had casual sex with during my first two years of college but he’s in a committed relationship, so we ended last year.

“Eli, I need you to order. It’s a full house tonight,” I say curtly but with a smile because I want a nice tip. “It’s going to take time to get the orders ready.” And we close in two hours.

“Right, I’ll take the cheeseburger and fries.” He winks. I don’t know why he feels the need to wink. There is nothing flirtatious about me taking his order.

I move on to the next five guys at the table. Once I get their orders, I turn to the next table in my section. Great, more jocks. These guys are on the hockey team. I heard they had a home game tonight; must be why they are here so late.

I walk up to their table and take their order. I’ve met these guys. Two of my friends are living in the hockey house, since their dorm flooded and they had nowhere to go. One of the hockey players is Hayden, who is my good friend Ruby’s brother.

“What can I get you?” I ask Hayden.

He taps his chin. “A plate of dirty nachos for the table.”

“Fuck yeah,” a guy named Aaron says from beside him. “A pound of spicy wings would be great too.” Aaron adds. He’s the kind of guy who’s too good-looking for his own good. The type of guy I make sure to stay miles away from.

“Sure thing,” I reply, ignoring my body heating from his warm green eyes and searing smile.

I take Luc’s order next, he’s the goalie, followed by Finn, who is their captain. He was secretly hooking up with one of my best friends, Charlie for most of the semester.

I head over to the bar to collect a round of drinks for a table when I feel a palm connects with my ass, followed by a sting.

Oh hell no.

I turn to see one of the patrons smiling at me. “I don’t know what you’re smiling about. I could call the cops right now and have you charged with forcible touching and harassment,” I state.

The guy laughs. “Come on, beautiful. No harassment going on here.”

“Excuse me, but you had no right to touch my behind,” I assert, which causes him to laugh more.

“What’s going on here?” Jace, the owner of Black Jack’s, walks over to us.

“He smacked my ass really hard,” I say to my boss.

The asshole tries to fist-bump Jace. Jace is a big muscular guy, who is in his mid-thirties. One of the reason’s I like working at Black Jack’s is because he takes care of his employees. I have worked as a waitress in all kinds of restaurants since I was fifteen, so I know a good job when I have one, and Black Jack’s is respectful and reputable.

“Bro, I’m not fist-bumping you. Touching a woman inappropriately is sexual assault. Now, you apologize to Briar,” Jace demands. His black Black Jack’s T-shirt is stretched to the hilt over his muscles.

“This is bullshit,” the guy has the audacity to complain.

“Briar, should I call the police?” Jace asks politely.

“Nah, just throw his sorry ass out of here,” I mutter.

Jace does exactly that and I move past him to grab my order from the bar. I almost bump right into Aaron as I spin around. He must have come from the restroom. Did he just witness that whole interaction?

“Good for you,” Aaron cheers.

Well, that answers my question.

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