Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
MATT
Being at a packed bar on a Thursday night is not my definition of fun. It’s specifically why I turned Niko down last week. But after Nate mentioned he’d seen Eleanor walk by a handful of times since she was here a month ago, I decided one night at the bar was worth a little bit of delusional hope.
With my hat pulled low and Nate keeping an eye on non-regulars, I try not to stress about getting harassed.
It rarely happens, given the low profile of the bar, and thanks to Nate I’m not exactly worried.
But the general noise and chaos has me on edge.
You’d think regular exposure to screaming arenas would make me immune to the racket, but there’s just something about this up-close commotion and volume that has me feeling a tad claustrophobic.
“Those two girls want to buy you a drink.”
I look up at Nate and try to fight my reflexive grimace. “Guess that’s my cue to go,” I tell him, tipping back the last of the beer in my glass.
“You don’t even want to look? They’re pretty hot,” he says with a smirk.
“Well then maybe you should—”
I stop talking as I see Nate’s gaze snag on something outside the bar. I follow his line of sight to something passing the front door. Someone.
Eleanor. Holy shit.
Despite the time that’s passed, her pretty face has been burned into my mind exactly as I predicted.
The regret of not getting her number or even her name—in a normal way—has been weighing surprisingly heavily on my mind.
I was sure I would never see her again and it’s been strangely more upsetting than I would expect from some fleeting encounter. Hence the out-of-character night out.
I don’t pursue random girls. And that’s not some cheesy intro into girls pursue me.
I mean, I guess they do, but that’s not why I don’t go after them.
I just don’t trust myself to know a stranger’s intentions.
I’ve been a professional hockey player for eighteen years, and from the very first day, they warn you about the minefield of dating as a pro player.
Only date friends of friends. Or friends of friends of friends. That’s your best bet, they’d say.
I was pretty casual the first few years, but then I experienced firsthand what they were talking about. So I took their advice. No more random hookups, no strangers in a bar. No matter how pretty.
Playing it safe made sense and still does, but as I watch the little pom-pom on her hat disappear from view, I rush to grab my jacket and jog to the door. I’m not letting her slip away again.
Nate’s chuckle is cut off as the door swings shut behind me and the noise of the bar fades to muted chatter. I turn right and catch sight of Eleanor walking down the street. How long has she been walking? It’s cold as balls out here.
“Hey,” I call out. Like a total fucking creep.
Fuck, what if she doesn’t remember me and now I’m some dude a few steps behind her on a dark street? Not exactly the start I want.
She turns around and—shit. The seared image I had in my brain takes a back-row seat to the sight in front of me.
Honey eyes and rosy, freckled cheeks. Dark brown hair falling to her shoulders under her blue hat. Glossy pink lips curving into a smile that gives way to perfect teeth.
I swallow and try to remember how to talk.
“Clark,” she says as her smile takes over her whole face.
Wow. Okay. Except then there is an almost comical little record scratch sound effect in my head. Clark? Shit, does she think I’m someone else? We did only meet once… Perhaps it was more memorable for me.
I tilt my head and try not to show too much confusion on my face. “Clark?”
“You know, Clark Kent?” She looks down and I see that pink blush turn a little more red.
My own smile catches me off guard. She thinks of me as Superman? That’s got to be good, right? Way better than a serial killer, at least.
I reach my hand out and watch as her eyes flick down to it and then back to my face. “I’m Matt.”
She softly places her hand in mine and I feel my heart give a little jolt at the contact. “Ellie,” she says.
Ellie, not Eleanor. I catalog the switch in my mind and nod my head in the direction she was going, reluctantly releasing her hand. “You walking home?”
“Yeah, just coming from Lola’s. I’m another block down this way,” she says.
Lola’s… Why does that sound so familiar?
No way. “Is Lola’s that bar that just opened a couple blocks away?” I ask her.
“Yeah, my friend convinced me to check it— What?” Ellie pauses at whatever she sees on my face.
“Ah, nothing, just my buddy also tried to convince me to go there last week. Maybe I’ll say yes next time.”
I’m momentarily distracted when I see Ellie’s teeth start to chatter. Shit, I’ve been making her stand here in the cold.
“Now that I’m not a stranger, can I walk you the rest of the way home?”
“Hmm. That depends, Matt. I usually know more than just a first name when I allow such intimate behavior. Can you tell me a little more about yourself?”
I stiffen at the thought, but remind myself she doesn’t know who I am and there is plenty else I can tell her that doesn’t involve hockey. Well maybe not plenty, but enough.
“It’s a big ask, but I think I can do that.
” I smile at her. “Let’s see…” I pause to think for a minute, trying to come up with some random facts.
“Just off the top? I don’t have any pets, but I have a lot of plants.
I co-own that bar with my friend Nate. I’m not sure if you remember him, he was bartending.
” I hike my thumb over my shoulder. “I think the best ice cream flavor is vanilla and I’m willing to die on that hill.
Hmm…I hate the beach. My favorite book genre is science fiction.
And my mom’s name is Shirley, like the drink. ”
I study her face as I talk and watch her smile slip at the end. She seems to straighten her posture a little and nods before announcing, “That’ll do,” as she tucks her hands in her jacket pockets and continues down the street.
I sidle up beside her and take her in properly.
She’s probably a little over half a foot shorter than my six-foot-one frame, but her heeled boots have her standing only a few inches below me.
She’s got a long tan coat and a blue beanie with a familiar logo on the front.
Any player would recognize one of the top-ranked schools for hockey.
“You from Boston?” I ask, angling my head toward her beanie.
Ellie reaches up to touch the logo there. “Oh, yeah, I am. I guess I should return the favor, huh? Can’t have you walking with a stranger either.” She looks over and the side of her mouth curves up.
That is a distracting mouth.
She faces forward again and I listen carefully as she shares tidbits of information I plan to hoard like a reality TV show spectacle.
“All right, I don’t have any pets either, but I’m thinking of getting a fish.
Although I’ve really struggled to keep even plants alive, so maybe that’s inhumane to consider.
A little ironic because I’m an ER nurse over at General.
Should be good at keeping things alive and all that…
” She trails off with a huff. “Hmm what’s next?
Oh yes, I actually agree with you on the ice cream front, so no dying for you. Team vanilla, baby.”
She says the word “baby” with enthusiasm, emphasizing and dragging out the y sound slightly, making it sound more like bay-beee. Her energy is infectious enough to make me forget about the cold.
“I love two very specific beaches, but otherwise don’t feel strongly about those. And my favorite book genre is historical romance. If you make fun of my reading preferences, Matt, we can’t be friends. You’ve been warned.”
She gives me a faux glare and I laugh, internally delighting in her easy use of my name. “I would never, promise,” I say with my hand over my heart. “Besides, my mom loves those books too, and I may have read one or two back when I lived at home.”
“They’re pretty good, right?”
“Oh yeah, very entertaining, but I couldn’t get past the idea of knowing my mom read…ya know. Teenage Matt was scandalized.” I give a little shudder at the memory.
“Gave you the ick, huh?” she jokes and pauses, pointing to the red door up a small set of stairs we’ve stopped at.
“This is me,” she lets me know. She shifts a little on her feet and I’m not sure if it’s the cold or something else.
I’m definitely not risking another semi-coincidental run-in as my only way of seeing her again.
“Do you think I shared enough personal information to get your number?” I try to keep the uncharacteristic nerves out of my voice, but I’m not sure how successful I am.
Ellie beams at me and my breath catches in my chest. Christ.
“I’ll do ya one better.” She tips her head toward the door. “Do you wanna come in?”
Um, hell yes I do.
But shit, I think I could actually like her. And I don’t want her to think I’m looking for a one-time thing. Although maybe she just wants to talk more out of the cold? Or maybe she just wants a one-time thing.
I look from the door to her face and notice her smile start to fade. Fuck. Guess I can figure it out as we go.
“I promise you’re safe with me.” She elbows me lightly in the side.
I know she means it as a joke, but there’s something so adorably endearing about her offering that up.
She has no way of knowing why that would mean a lot to me.
And I don’t know if I’ve ever felt unsafe, but I’ve certainly had my fair share of feeling uncomfortable or even targeted when I’m with new people who might be around me for specific reasons.
I have a hunch Ellie has never made anyone uncomfortable in her life.
“I guess I’ll have to trust you.” I gesture for her to lead the way.