Page 12 of Player Problems

It’s impossible to recognize and remember every face I see through the nights. Lots of bodies that all become a blur, but that bite of awareness wouldn’t be itching at me if it was just recognition from the crowd.

No. There’s something else about him. I’ll figure it out eventually, but for now I put him and his dour expression out of my mind and get back to work.

The night moves far too slowly for how busy we are. It should be flying by with the way I’m serving drinks and dealing with men ogling my tits. But no, each hour drags by as if someone took the batteries out of the clock.

Alysha makes a face as she drops off empty glasses and begins to load up her tray again.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, still on edge from earlier.

She waves me off. “Weird night.” I nod my agreement. “Got another weirdo in the corner over there.” She tilts her head in the direction of the pit and I spot the table tucked away almost out of view. It’s a great spot to get a view of the stage without having to be in the pit. It’s usually taken, but I can immediately see why Alysha has weird vibes.

The man is sitting alone, not unusual. But sitting with his back to the stage. Highly unusual.

Both his hands wrap around the half full pint of beer he has, his orange and gray beanie making him stand out even more.

“Any trouble?” I ask.

She shakes her head, lifting the tray of drinks. “No, just a lot of questions about Betty. Guess not everyone is accustomed to seeing a bitch with a bat.”

She hip bumps me and I snort.

Alysha walks off and my gaze lingers on her for a moment longer, but the man never moves or even glances in her direction. I just need tonight to be over.

five

PROMISES, PROMISES

The house vibrates with the energy of the crowd and all I can think is thank god we aren’t throwing this rager at our house. The hockey houses are known for throwing the best parties, but practices have kicked my ass this week. Having to wake up and clean? Fuck no.

I lean back on the couch as Wells pulls a giggling Isla into his lap. No sign of Torryn tonight. I sip on my beer as my eyes roam over the growing crowd. Something is in the air tonight.

A reckless thrum that hums through the music, promising a wild night, and a huge ass mess for the morning. Sounds like Tate’s problem. By the grumpy expression on his face as he glares at his younger brother, Zac, he’s thinking the same thing.

This was supposed to be more of a kickback. It wasn’t supposed to turn into a rager. Then again, the best parties never are.

James falls into the seat at my side, beer in hand. “Didn’t expect to find you over here lurking.”

I roll my eyes. “Clarissa is here,” I grumble.

James’ eyes widen. “Who let that psycho ass in?”

I give him a droll look and he groans. “Zac again?”

I laugh dryly. “You know the guy can’t say no to women. One bat of their eye lashes and he caves.”

He shakes his head. “We really gotta work with him on that. Not only did she want to turkey baste herself with your come, dude, everything after?” He shudders as he says it and it makes me gag.

“Please. Don’t remind me.” I swallow down more beer, suddenly craving tequila. I drain the rest of my cup and drop it on the table next to me. It’s just not hitting right. My eyes are drawn back to Isla sitting in Wells’ lap, matching dopey grins plastered on both their faces as they ignore everyone else around them. Why did they even come?

“So, that’s really a thing?” he asks, gesturing to where I’m looking.

“Oh, yeah,” I laugh. “He’s been obsessed since the semester started. It was about time he locked it down.”

James’ gaze weighs heavily on me and I brace myself for whatever pseudo shrink shit he’s about to hit me with. Him and Wells really are too similar. He opens his mouth to start, but at the last second must change his mind, instead shaking his head. “Can’t believe I missed all that.”

I hum, waiting for him to continue. As roommates, James, Wells, Beau, and I tend to be honest with each other. We’ve lived together since our freshman yearhere, instantly clicking. We’ve only grown closer over the last two years and it’s been obvious James has been holding something back from us.

He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ve been talking to Daniels,” he finally admits.

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