Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
AUDREY
When the door to the box opens, I’m hit by the sounds and smells.
Family and friends of the team talking and laughing, music playing while the team finishes warming up on the field far below.
My mouth waters a little at the smell of the food.
Spinach and artichoke dip with crackers and bread sit next to big metal warmers filled with fried chicken and waffles.
Looks like they’ve got a little brunch theme going on since this is a noon game.
A huge, stainless-steel espresso machine sits behind the bar, and I make a beeline to it.
“Hi, Katie! One small hazelnut oat milk latte, please.”
While she works on my coffee, I look around, seeing who’s already here.
Most people are carrying a drink already, a mix between coffees, waters, and mimosas.
I look through the windows to the left side of the private stands where my now usual seat is located and spot my girlfriends already there.
Having a “usual spot” here feels just as normal to me now as the one I have at Big Power Yoga.
I wrap my hands around the coffee cup, thankful for both its warmth and its comforting smell.
I weave through everyone and smile at my friends who are already settled into the seats.
I do the awkward dance of dodging feet and legs while sitting in a chair with your hands full of stuff.
“Hey, guys!” Chrissy and Nash are balancing plates of food on their knees, chatting and eating.
They turn their bright eyes and blinding smiles on me. “Good morning, Audrey!”
“How are y'all this morning?” I don’t have an accent, despite living in Texas my entire life, but I do have use for all the southern slang. The girls nod their heads.
“Good,” Nash says.
“Glad this is home and early. We need a break after all those away games. All that travel on top of the game really takes a toll on Colin,” Chrissy laments.
“Thank God it’s a bye week next week,” Nash says, and we nod. “All the guys could use a break.”
Chrissy perks up. “We should all go out and do something fun!”
Nash and I look at each other, then back at Chrissy. Her idea of fun is fancy dresses and espresso martinis, and that’s not either of our vibes. Nash speaks up first, “We should go dancing!”
We all light up. “Yes!”
“Okay! Next Monday night, we’ll all plan to meet at Whiskey River.”
I give her a confused look. “Monday?”
“Monday is the boys’ Saturday. And it will be easier for Colin to schedule.” I nod, understanding. The team is used to a certain schedule, and just because it’s finally their break doesn't mean they will lose that routine.
I turn to Nash. “Has Wyatt ever been two-stepping?”
She tilts her head, thinking. “I don’t think so. They have country bars in Wisconsin, but they don’t really two-step there.” Wyatt is from Wisconsin and Nash met him when she went there to play college volleyball.
“Maybe he’ll like two-stepping and fall in love with Texas.” I try and reassure her.
The smile on Nash’s face doesn’t reach her eyes. “Maybe.”
Chrissy claps her hands a few times in a quick burst. “This is going to be so fun!”
By the time plans are made and rides are settled, the boys are in the tunnel ready to run out onto the field. After they’re announced, we made a quick run to the private restroom to be sure we are back and ready for kickoff.
I didn’t think when I met Noah that he would come with all these wonderful people.
I never disliked Hunter’s friends, but we didn’t click either.
Somehow, even in the short time that I’ve known Chrissy, I know that if I ever needed anything, she would come to my aid no matter what.
No questions asked. If I ever got in a fight, Nash would back me up in a second.
If my car was ever stranded on the side of the highway, Colin would be there to give me a ride.
Sadly, I can’t say the same for my own family.
I have no clue who here knows about my engagement. Noah could have told everyone or no one, but nobody has so much as whispered anything about me in earshot. That doesn’t mean there’s no gossip going on, but with the homey feeling I get from this group, I doubt it.
It’s time to focus all my efforts and energy into people who put their effort into me.
Spirits are high Monday night as we all gather around the marble island with a waterfall edge in Colin and Chrissy’s beautiful kitchen.
After a huge win over Tennessee yesterday, everyone is in the mood to celebrate.
With a week of rest in front of them, they have plenty of time to nurse their inevitable hangovers.
Jaden is playing pop music on the aux. Everyone has their drink of choice in hand.
Chrissy even had a pitcher of margaritas prepped for us when we arrived.
That’s what I’m sipping on. I can easily go to vodka soda or vodka cranberry at the bar and not get too far into mixing my liquor.
I look around at everyone, probably fifteen or twenty people altogether.
Some of the guys brought women I’ve never met.
Nash, Chrissy, Wyatt, Colin, Noah, and I are all hanging around.
I’m checking out Chrissy’s cowgirl boots, which are sparkly, of course.
Nash’s look like she actually wears hers to work on a farm, and not just to dance in a couple times a year.
Hers are perfect to pair with Wyatt, whose boots are in even rougher shape.
I appraise Noah over the top of my margarita glass.
He usually has more of a casual city or athletic style, depending on what we’re doing, but tonight he pulled out all the stops.
My eyes rove from his black ostrich boots to his Wrangler jeans, and I snort a little laugh over the top of my drink at his overly large belt buckle.
I have no idea where he got that from. I’ll have to ask him in the Uber.
I lick the salt off the rim of my glass to accompany my next sip as I continue my perusal, taking in the long-sleeve shirt he wears.
It’s more casual compared to Wyatt’s actual pearl snap shirt, but the fabric hugs his biceps, and is thin enough to see the outline of his collarbone.
I must have lost track of Chrissy because she suddenly appears to my right carrying a black tray full of pink Starburst shots. Nash shakes her head. “No! No way!” Chrissy deftly ignores her, passing around the shots.
She looks Nash directly in the eye. “We’re going to have a good fucking time tonight. So drink the fuck up.”
Nash’s eyes dart to me, then to Wyatt next to her before she shrugs and holds the drink out for the rest of us to cheers with.
Our drinks meet hers in the air then and we all tap the bottoms on the table and shoot it back.
The sweet, fruity flavor hides the bite of the liquor well, and I lick the excess off my lips. “These are so dangerous!” I laugh.
Noah catches my eye with a knowing look, and I give him an innocent smile back that says I promise to behave. I feel his smirk all the way to my toes.
I’m sure we’re a sight to see. Four Uber XLs pull up to the local country bar, and six huge dudes climb out followed by six ladies in varying states of going-out attire.
Everyone is shuffling, the ladies are throwing their bags over their shoulders, the men are clapping each other on the back as we make our way up the wooden ramp toward the entrance.
It’s completely empty. I guess that’s what Chrissy meant by Colin’s scheduling.
The bar is dark, but the accent lights are swirling.
In the middle there’s a huge dance floor with a wooden guardrail around it for people to sit on barstools.
A few Hurricane couples are already spinning their way around the sawdust floor to the country song playing over the speakers.
Noah and I are standing behind Wyatt and Nash while they order their drinks.
While they wait for the bartender to grab their beers, they turn to us and Wyatt says, “When I was in college there were only two bars in the whole town. Tuesdays they had quarter night where all well liquor was only twenty-five cents.”
“I am so jealous. Houston has never seen drinks cheaper than five dollars, ever. How could you not get shit faced when it’s that good of a deal?”
Nash laughs and swats Wyatt’s shoulder. “Oh, he did.”
Wyatt leans closer to us and talks loudly in our ears to be heard over the music. “I had a buddy, the kicker on the football team, who would show up with a Ziploc bag of coins to pay for his drinks. It would last him all night; I shit you not.”
I blink once or twice. “Wow, Wisconsin sounds like another planet.”
“It is,” Nash adds quickly.
The bartender, a woman with dark hair and a tied-up checkered shirt, sets down their beer bottles and Wyatt whips his wallet out of his back pocket to pay. Noah steps in and puts his hand over Wyatt’s, stopping him.
“Rookies!” Three young men quickly step up to the bar, already reaching for their pockets.
Two I recognize from seeing them around, the other I don’t know at all.
I watch as the rookies decide who’s going to pay.
The one with dark hair and tan skin pays, then slips his wallet back in his pocket and saunters off.
The other two seem to be deciding who will pay for my and Noah’s drinks, and the third wanders off in the same direction as the first.
I look at Noah. “What is that about?”
He shrugs. “Everyone knows the rookies get stuck with the bill.”
“You haze them?!” They look so young and sweet!
He holds his hands out in a pump the brakes motion. “This is not hazing. Trust me. I had some friends in college who were in frats, and they could tell you some horror stories. You’d never look at a stick of butter the same way again.”
Nash grabs a napkin to wrap around her beer, but Wyatt whips a koozie out from his other pocket and hands it to her.
He grabs a second one and shoves the navy Hurricanes koozie over his own beer bottle.
I raise my brows at Noah. That’s some boyfriend shit.
But in all the conversations we’ve had, Nash insists they are just best friends.
I personally think that’s bullshit, but I’m not one to push, so I leave it where she obviously wants it.
Let them have their secrets. I’ll be the first one to say “I told you so” when they end up together.
Actually, maybe second because I don’t think I’ll be able to beat Chrissy.
Speaking of, I look around for her. She won’t be hard to find.
I saw her sporting a light-up, white sequined cowboy hat about five minutes ago.
Looked like something the DJ hands out at a wedding to get the crowd going after the grandparents have left for the night.
I spot her, martini glass in hand, dragging Colin toward the dance floor.
Noah and I step up to the bartender. “What are you drinking?” she asks.
I scan the beer on tap and the liquor bottles on the shelf and decide I better stick to what I started with.
“I’ll have a margarita.” Noah turns to the bartender and orders two.
I like that he asks what I want, but speaks up for me to order.
I don’t often feel taken care and I’m soaking it in.
The combination of his ass in those jeans, the blatant heat in his eyes, the alcohol in our systems, and how close I know we’ll be when we dance… Is it hot in here?
I pick up my margarita after the brunette sets it down, thanking her. Noah leans toward me. “Sorry, no margarita-specific koozie.”
“Would you have had one for me if I’d ordered a beer?”
“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ at the end. I glance over my shoulder where Nash and Wyatt went off to. “What’s up with them anyway? Nash says they’re just friends.”
“Oh, he’s in love with her. He’s just too afraid to do anything about it, and she’s gone so much playing international volleyball.” I nod. That I knew. “I assume they will eventually see what they’ve been missing out on.”
“I get it, though. It’s scary to put yourself out there. And at the risk of ruining a friendship? No way.”
Noah’s eyes train on me, pinning me in place. “It’s worth it.” I’m taken by his sincerity and the desperation in his tone. He’s not convincing himself though. That extra effort is for me.
I’m amazed by Noah on the dance floor. He leads me so effortlessly; we look like the couples you see who’ve been dancing together for decades. He keeps the perfect pace and never steps on my toes. We’re a few drinks in but that doesn’t seem to have an effect on Noah’s sure-footedness.
He’s aware of the others dancing around us as we move in a circular motion, keeping us from running into anyone.
Which is great because I am totally lost to the moment.
Lost in the heat of his arms and the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his body pressed against mine.
The way he leans over me slightly to meet my hands.
He spins me out, around, and back as the last song ends, but when I hear the beginning notes of “The Kind of Love We Make” by Luke Combs I melt right back into his arms. We are definitely staying on the floor for this one.