Page 54 of Perfect Storm
“Oh, but Mr. Andresen told me everyone’s drinking on his tab,” the bartender said apologetically.
Levi shrugged and stuffed the bill into the cut-glass tip jar on the bar.
“What do we know about this guy?” Aidan asked under his breath.
“Ramsey?” Levi sounded unconcerned.
“Wes told me he’s a hockey player. On long-term injured reserve,” Aidan said, “but that’s it.”
Aidan realized he should have spent a minute googling this guy they were hanging out with. He trusted Wes—who apparently knew him well—but he should have done his research anyway.
Instead he’d spent the two hours after practice before they met up getting a haircut and agonizing in front of his closet trying to figure out what shirt made him look more laid-back than he actually was.
He shouldn’t have worried honestly, considering that Levi was in some egregiously neon-bright patterned shirt. Nobody was even going to notice he existed when he was next to Levi.
Except—Levi might notice, and that was the only person Aidan wanted to look at him anyway.
When they’d all grabbed a drink, Ramsey led the way to their private room. As promised, it had dark green walls, faintly embossed with a wavy leaf pattern, and at the center of the room, a pristine dark wood pool table. To one side were the dart boards, closed up in their matching wood enclosures. The music was lower here, and there were at least two big NFL player–sized couches and a number of comfortable-looking chairs scattered around the space.
“This is a pretty sweet setup,” Levi said.
“Told you,” Wes said a little smugly. “Ramsey’s the best at finding places like this.”
“And you’re not even from Toronto,” Aidan said a little pointedly.
Ramsey just shrugged. “No, but Buffalo’s so close. And Wes is here, so we’ve met up a bunch.” He hesitated. “Especially last year.”
Wes made a face, clear pain flashing across it before it was covered up by exasperation. “Don’t,” he said.
“Chill. I wasn’t going to mention Marcus,” Ramsey said.
Aidan hadn’t even known that Wes’ ex was named Marcus, so it seemed like Ramsey was averygood friend, if he knew that much.
“Wes said you were on injured reserve,” Levi said.
Seemed like he and his new right tackle were on the same page—they both wanted to know more about this friend of Wes’.
Aidan hoped that it wasn’t because Levi wanted in his pants, but then, Levi wasn’t flirting with him. Not the way he flirted with Aidan, anyway.
“Yeah,” Ramsey said. “Concussion syndrome. Had a bad one last year, right after I signed my extension. but I’d had a few before, in college, and this one lingered.” The way he said it made it clear that he’d had to repeat this information many times, in a lot of different situations.
“Didn’t know you could drink with concussion syndrome,” Nate said casually, nodding at the drink in Ramsey’s hand. It might have been the first time Nate had said anything since being introduced to Ramsey and Aidan thought that was surprising. Nate wasn’t the most social guy on the planet, but he wasn’t exactly quiet, either.
Ramsey raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “This? This isn’t vodka. It’s just sparkling water, dude.”
Nate’s mouth thinned into a hard line. “Ah.”
It was surprising how annoyed Nate seemed; he was usually up for a good time, and from all angles, it seemed like both this bar and Ramsey were a good time.
“Hey,” Dawson said, “who’s up for a game?” He grabbed a cue from the rack and rolled it between his palms.
“I’ll play,” Cam said immediately.
“Count me in too,” Lane said, and Trevor nodded too.
“Flynn? Banks?” Dawson asked them.
“I’m good,” Aidan said and Levi shook his head.
