Epilogue
SIERRA
“Busy night,” Julie comments as we cross paths behind the bar.
“Fridays are the busiest.”
Our dance is a well-practiced routine that keeps us filling beer pints and pitchers from the taps of local brews and mixing the occasional cocktail. It keeps me fresh.
We’re both going full tilt, serving the happy patrons who watched the game here, not to mention the overflow we’ll get once fans flood out of the stadium and over to the bar in about twenty minutes. Mile High does a good business, win or lose. Lately, there’ve been a lot of wins.
“The team’s on a hot streak since January,” I toss back.
“Which has nothing to do with you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m a humble bartender.”
“You’re not humble. The other part is true.”
We both laugh.
“There you boys go.” I drop off an order for Pete and his friends.
“This the new one?” He lifts the glass and turns it. “Nice color.”
“It’s great. A local brewery. We only have it for a limited time.”
“So don’t get hooked,” he jokes.
I lean a hip against the side of their booth. “That’s what Dad said. But vote with your wallet, and if you love it, we’ll get more where that came from.” I point at the poster on the wall with our list of newly rotating taps from local microbreweries.
The doors open and a group sweeps in wearing jerseys. The start of the game crowd.
It feels good, the energy.
My dad agreed to let me have more rein with the bar. I recently went on a trip to Miami to check out some bars there for inspiration.
I go back behind the bar and keep working.
“Sorry we’re late!” Nova exclaims as she and Brooke drop onto two empty stools. “The guys are on their way. Ryan was extra popular in media, and Chloe’s looking out for him.”
“Never apologize,” I say and mean it. “How are you feeling?” I glance at her stomach, the discreet baby bump that’s starting to show.
“Great. As for our excuse, traffic was brutal, but we’re going to make it up to you. We have big news.”
I pause to lean over the bar. “Tell me.”
Brooke folds her hands and crosses one leg over the other. “I finally picked a designer for the wedding.”
“Wow! Congrats.” I cut a look at Nova. “Was that harder or easier than choosing a groom?”
Brooke laughs.
It’s good to see them doing well. Lately, I’ve been busy at the bar but also spending more time with the girls.
A cheer erupts that fills the entirety of Mile High.
The Kodiaks are here.
Jay is first, with Clay. Then Miles and a couple of the bench guys. Atlas and Ryan bring up the back.
Jay waves to me, and I nod back because my hands are full. I smile, my head bobbing to the music.
“Nice game,” I call as they approach.
“Thanks. It was touch-and-go there until Miles decided to show up in the second half.”
“I was lulling them into complacency,” Miles says.
“I had to shake them out of it.” Ryan shifts between them with a grin. He’s gorgeous. After the game, he’s freshly showered, his dark, curly hair damp. “Hey, Sierra.”
“Hi.” I can handle myself. Just because a starting guard on the world champion Kodiaks is looking at me as if he’s starved and I’m a steak doesn’t mean I’ll break.
“Catch much of the game?”
“Not much. It’s been a busy night.” Since I introduced a new cocktail list, we’re getting a broader clientele. Everyone is still focused on the team, but we’re pulling in younger fans, more women too.
“I’ll reenact it for you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Keep it in your pants,” Jay pleads, and the other guys laugh.
A group of vaguely familiar women wedges its way in front of the bar, cutting in front of the crowd.
Kodashians. I can tell from their swag.
In the front is a blonde with huge boobs.
She looks vaguely familiar.
I search my memory for a second, then another.
Oh no. It’s Cherry Girl, the one who gave me the insanely hard time over missing her favorite garnish.
“Tequila Sunrise,” she requests.
Her friend picks up a menu off the bar, scanning the cocktail list. “Do you still have the Rookie Season? It’s not on the menu, but—"
“That was only a Christmas drink, wasn’t it?” one of her friends asks.
“It’s here year-round.”
Their heads snap up as they clock Ryan a few feet down the bar, where he’s claimed a seat next to Atlas and Jay.
“We’re still deciding if it’s seasonal,” I inform Ryan.
“But between us, it’s going to stay,” Ryan tells them.
God, he’s obnoxious. The confident ease.
“It is, is it?” I plant both hands on my hips.
His gaze flicks back to me and lingers, his expression saying every second he’s not looking at me might be a waste. He sizes me up from the toes of my boots to the tip of my ponytail. Then he gets off his seat and rounds the bar.
I throw up both hands. “Excuse me, do I come to your work and get up on the court?!”
The Kodiaks laugh, and the girls watch, seemingly fascinated.
But Ryan ignores them and comes closer. “Are you kidding? I’d love to see it. Maybe you can wear my jersey.”
“What are you doing?” I demand when he pulls up an inch from me. I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes.
His hand finds my waist, his thumb brushing my ribcage familiarly as he leans closer. “Making sure you know that drink isn’t going anywhere.” He lowers his voice to murmur in my ear, “Like me.”
It’s two words, but my entire body rebels against every sensible instinct I have.
The rookie I hooked up with isn’t a rookie, and we’re dating, not hooking up.
Not that we’re not hooking up. I have a lip-bitingly filthy reel of things we’ve done and places we’ve done it, matched only by the list of ones I still want to try.
In the three months since Christmas, we’ve gone from seeing one another twice a week at Mile High to spending most of our free seconds together. It’s hard, given how much I work and his travel schedule, but we’re both committed to making it work.
If Ryan was the perfect hookup, he’s even better as a boyfriend: attentive, funny, caring. When we disagree, he’s a better communicator than I am. Maybe from being raised by women.
Speaking of, I’ve met his parents and sisters, and they’re the best. Their vibe as a bigger family is mesmerizing, and I love watching him banter with them.
I’ve also inherited a whole new family in the Kodiaks—one I realize now I was already part of but never embraced completely.
My dad is a little starstruck. There’s nothing he’d like better than me dating a member of his favorite team, but he’s been remarkably chill about it around my new boyfriend, which I appreciate.
“Dammit, Ryan,” I murmur when his grip on me only tightens. “I’m trying to run a business, and people need their drinks.” I wave past him, expecting a line of impatient customers.
Instead, everyone’s enjoying the show. The Kodiaks are laughing and nodding. Brooke’s giving me an “I told you so” look, and Nova’s eyes are misty.
Even Pete and his friends are watching with goofy smiles.
God. We’re like a rom-com.
Except for Cherry Girl. She looks as though she ate an entire cherry, pit and all.
“I get it, you’re embarrassed to do this here…” Ryan starts.
I grab the back of his head and pull him down to me. He kisses me back, and cheers fill the bar one more time.
I guess the holidays aren’t so bad after all.
* * *
Thank you for reading Rookie Season! I hope you loved spending more time with Ryan, Sierra and the Denver Kodiaks.