Hard Checked (Ice Kings #4) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,34

got a promotion… and that they’re all lawyers.

Who else would come here and be uptight, few looking like they’ve had a pool cue shoved up their ass with the way they silently judge the bar’s appearance.

Hell, one or two, curled their lips at my newly dyed hair… platinum blonde with teal streaks.

It’s not my favorite, but it gave me something to do yesterday for a few hours so I didn’t spend more time alone, thinking of Sebastian. It worked, mostly because Mark, my hairstylist at The Color Bar Salon, is hilarious and keeps me laughing when I’m in his chair.

It stopped working when I realized my teal hair matches the Ice Kings team colors.

I changed out my nose ring to a little gold hoop and since it’s my day off and I’m not caring about dressing to impress anyone or help with tips, I have on a pair of peach-colored sweat shorts and an oversized black sweatshirt. I cut off the collar, so it drapes off one shoulder and shows my white bra strap.

Next to me, Steve and Dad are talking about the upcoming election and since we rarely agree on most matters outside believing everyone we meet should be treated with kindness and respect, I’ve left them to it and zoned out to St. Louis playing Minnesota in Minnesota…

Which is where Sebastian is from.

Where his wife ran off to when she left him.

Yeah. I need another drink.

“Dad!” I call out and when he turns to me, I swing my empty glass back and forth. “Any chance I can get another?”

“Better check her ID, George. Girl looks pretty damn young.”

“Shut it, Steve,” I tease the old jerk and stick out my tongue at him.

My dad slides the dirty martini in front of me, laughing. “You’re not driving, are you? I’d have to ask for your keys.”

I slide the glass and coaster close to me and take a sip. “The only driving going on here is you two driving me crazy.”

“It’s a two-drink night,” Dad says, losing his smile. “Everything all right?”

Just trying to forget a man who I have no business liking. Outside the cheap beer I drank a lot of in college because that was all we had, I’ve never acquired a taste for much alcohol. And when I do have some, Dad knows I rarely have more than one. I’m not surprised he’s noticed or that he asks.

“Kicking back and enjoying my night. Leave me alone with your fatherly concern.”

“Never,” he promises and leans forward to kiss my cheek. “Who’s winning?”

“St. Louis, heading into third period, up by one though, and Minnesota just had a great run right before. It’ll be close.”

“Look at you, sounding like you actually care about this stuff now.”

My dad’s teasing smile is laced with concern and I shrug. He knows me well. Better than I know myself, I’m sure of it, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to assuage his fears right now. Not when I’m already so confused by my own feelings.

“Nothing else on the screens down here and I’m pretty sure if you turn off sports so I can watch that dating reality show I like, the boys in the back will revolt.”

My dad slides his glance their way, where all six are standing around the pool table, talking and drinking. I don’t know why he bothers. He’s been keeping an eye on them all night.

“Point taken,” he says. “You going to stay down here much longer?”

“Probably until the end of the game. Why? Need to go do something in the back?”

“Nope. It’s your night off anyway.”

“I’m doing just fine. You’re the old man here.”

Steve scoffs at the name calling, and Dad tosses the towel at him.

“Mind your own business,” he calls out, lifting a hand toward me as he heads toward the guys at the tables to clean their empties and see if they want another round.

I turn back to the game and a mindless game on my phone, keeping an eye as Minnesota pulls out the win with one more goal and keeping St. Louis from scoring again.

After it’s done, I switch to a glass of decaffeinated soda, pull up a photo editing app I have on my phone for when I take pictures and don’t have my SLR camera on me, and I get lost in the comfort of the familiar atmosphere and editing photos of my recent walk through Uptown.

It’s getting late, which means I’m still wide awake. The curse of a bartender and my usual night

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