six—same as ours—leaves.
“I got the first round of shots for everyone,” Mike announces once we’re all seated. “Jamesons sound good?”
The guys all cheer, agreeing that Irish whiskey is a solid choice.
I join in the cheering, but wow, we haven’t even ordered any beer yet.
That’s rectified as soon as the waitress, looking completely frazzled with her messy auburn bun and pen behind her ear, comes over to take our orders.
Since no one has had dinner, we also all order food.
Oh, and the shots, of course, courtesy of Mike.
I’m happy to see he abstains like he told me he would—he asks for a Coke for himself—seeing as he’s driving.
When the waitress returns with our beers and shots, I take the opportunity to check my phone to see if Becca has contacted me yet.
There’s nothing from her.
I sigh.
It’s seven thirty.
She must still be busy with the client.
Shaking my head and feeling bad for my poor girl, I set the phone, screen-down, on the table.
The waitress sets my beer right next to it, as well as the shot from Mike.
I nod and thank her.
Everyone takes their shot, and then we all start shooting the breeze.
I have to say the guys are really friendly. I find them welcoming, and I feel like I fit in. This is definitely a fun group.
Maybe playing here wouldn’t be so bad?
If only I could talk Becca into coming to Dover with me. That is if they do indeed pick me up.
Yeah, right, that’s never going to happen.
I mean, I could get traded to the Sharks, yeah. But Becca coming with me and leaving her whole life behind?
I just don’t think we’re there yet.
Nor could I ask her to give up everything she’s worked so hard for.
I’m not that selfish.
Feeling cruddy about things and how they may turn out, I order another round of shots for everyone but Mike, making mine a double.
Mike, who is seated to my right, raises a brow. “Whoa, Samuels, you’re going for it, huh?”
Shrugging, I reply, “What the hell. Practice doesn’t start till noon tomorrow.”
“That’s true,” he agrees.
“I’m sure I’ll sleep it off by then.”
“That’s the spirit,” one of the other men in the group chimes in when he overhears me.
Mike just shakes his head, chuckling.
Next round, everyone except for Mike orders a double shot.
Needless to say, we’re all pretty buzzed by the time our dinners arrive.
We’re louder and more boisterous too, at times even drowning out the blaring music.
That’s quite a feat.
None of the other patrons seem to mind, though, as the whole damn bar is raucous.
Dinner flies by, plates are cleared, and someone buys me another shot of Irish whiskey.
I don’t even think to check the time.
My phone is tucked under the red cloth napkin the waitress forgot to take.
I reach for it at one point to see if Becca has called, but I’m quickly distracted when the guy to my left and a couple of the others get up to mingle.
Mike stays at the table, as he’s deep in conversation with a dude who’s a safety on the team.
I watch as three of my potential teammates head over to talk to three women at the bar.
I look around the joint, observing that there sure are a lot of women in here.
That’s probably why the guys like this bar so much.
The waitress comes by then, distracting me from my thoughts.
“Here you go,” she says as she sets another beer down on the table.
“Whoa, hold up.” I stop her before she leaves. Pointing to the bottle, I say, “I didn’t order this.”
“I did,” a woman utters saucily from my left.
Twisting around, I find there’s a cute brunette standing next to me.
The waitress, leaving the beer on the table, rolls her eyes and walks away.
Noticing the seat on my left is open, the girl nods to it and asks, “Mind if I sit down?”
Eh, what’s the harm?
It’s not like I’m going to go home with her.
“Go for it,” I say, shrugging.
Plopping down, she adjusts her short, tight black skirt in a way that makes it ride up higher. I think that’s done purposefully. Her top is black as well, like a leotard. And she tugs at the low neckline, smiling at me.
I look away, but when she flips her chestnut brown hair, practically hitting me with her long locks, my attention returns to her.
“I’m Mandy,” she says.
“Hey, Mandy.” I tip my bottle her way. “Thanks for the beer.” I take a long pull, and once I set the bottle back down on the table, I