11. Lisa
Lisa
“I’m trying, baby. I’m trying to make this work for both of us.”
I attempt to slide past Austin, but his body blocks me. He grabs my arm and forces me to spin, meeting his gaze. His eyes are bloodshot and watery, swimming with emotion and more than a little alcohol.
I immediately avert my gaze. Whatever he wants to find in my expression, I don’t want him to. I just want this conversation over.
“I know. It’s fine. I promise, it’s fine.”
“Well, of course it is, because you know I love you, baby girl. If you really believe everything I say to you when I’m angry, that’s your problem. You really need to stop fixating on the negatives.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I drop to my knees and begin picking up shards of glass.
The skunky smell of beer wafts up from the spilled drink, and I hiss as the sharp edge of the shattered glass pierces my hand.
Blood wells from my finger, and I stare down at it in a daze.
It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as my heart.
It’s been a few months since my mom passed, and though she and I rarely spoke, she was the only family I had to my name.
I never knew my father, and I never had any siblings, so she filled a place in my heart that so many others took for granted.
The only other person who worked their way that far into my heart was Austin, and it’s times like these where I hate how much of my heart he has.
If he ever leaves, I know there will be nothing left there. Just a black hole.
We’re still in the same town as Patty and Austin’s brother, Ethan, but I haven’t spoken to either of them since they moved into their own place.
Honestly, I don’t mind that so much as of late, since I’ve been so busy wrapping up loose ends from my mother’s passing.
I gave up my bartending job months ago, but today was my first birthday without her, so all I’d wanted was a drink at the bar, drinking and disappearing into a crowd.
Becoming one of the nameless. Someone who could pretend she was as carefree and happy as the rest of them.
I ball my hand into a fist, leaving the injured finger free. I watch as the blood wells and begins trickling down the side.
A towel appears in my peripheral, and I glance up to see Austin holding it out for me. He crouches down as I accept it, and runs his hands through his hair in exasperation.
“Why do you need anyone else in your life? Everyone at that bar was a fucking lowlife, anyways.”
I choose not to respond. Trying to explain myself would only lead to more questions. Instead, I drape the towel over my hand and pick up more shards of glass. He continues, undeterred.
“I can’t believe you did a shot with that random guy. He was so excited to talk to a pretty girl. It’s just me you treat like shit, huh? Is that it?!”
He shoots up from his crouched position and begins pacing, my injury forgotten as his anger wells back up.
“Please don’t yell,” I whisper.
He whirls on me, his face contorted with rage. “I’m not yelling. Do you want to hear yelling?”
I instantly shake my head, and he scoffs. “Fuckin’ unbelievable. You’re always trying to make me look like the bad guy.”
He stalks away, but before he exits the room, he slams his fist into the wall.
Plaster goes flying with a resounding bang, and I duck my head, my heart racing.
I don’t look up, but I can feel his presence, still towering over me in the room.
After a long moment, I hear his footsteps receding, along with his final, grumbled words.
“If you’re not careful, you’ll lose me. Then, you’ll really have no one left.”
I wake up gasping, sweat pooled in my collarbone. As usual, my senses haven’t stayed with the dream. I can smell his scent, the sweat and beer and aftershave mixing in a pungent cocktail. His long, ashen hair, his dark eyes, the strain in his voice when he yells.
I go through the motions of the day in a haze, memories clinging to me like a shadow.
I’m grateful that at least Benjamin has been leaving me alone.
For the last few days, aside from polite smiles while taking his orders, he hasn’t attempted another conversation.
He’s finally accepted that I’m not trying to get into his business, and in turn, it appears he’s finally backed out of mine.
I glance over at him now where he sits with his teammates. They’re all leaned over a table, brows furrowed. One of them – Grant – is gesturing wildly. Another slams his palm on the table in response to what he says.
“They look like they’re having a pretty intense conversation,” Andi comments, raising a brow at them.
I glance at her over the. “I bet it’s something absolutely ridiculous, and they’ve just gotten themselves all heated over it.”
“You’re probably right. And speaking of heated,” Andi begins, “has he been bothering you?”
I shake my head and grab a rag. “He’s been surprisingly pleasant. I haven’t had to see any more of him than necessary, which is ideal.”
“Really?” She regards me carefully, then tosses her hair behind her shoulder. “You say he’s been pleasant. And he certainly looks pleasant. Sooo…I’m counting two pros, no cons. Maybe you should ask him out?”
I give up on wiping down the bartop to flick the rag at her.
“The pros don’t cancel out the way he treated me when he thought I was stalking him.
For all we know, he could have anger issues.
” I swallow down a lump, thinking of the fight I saw on the TV that night.
“Plus, you know I’m not really in the dating scene. ”
“But why not?” she complains. “You’re fucking hot.”
“I’m twenty-four, not sixty,” I remind her. “I’ve got plenty of time.”
She groans. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.
You’re in the prime of your life. You deserve a whole team of hot hockey players knocking down your door.
” She glances over to see the group of the men headed toward the bar in their sea of Leopard blue, and tosses a wink over her shoulder. “Except Grant. He’s mine.”
I smirk. “I’m proud of you, babe. Get that dick.”
“Look at you! I’ve been a bad influence…I love it.” She pulls Grant to her side as the group arrives. He allows her to tug him to her without question, but turns to face me, an urgent look on his face.
“Lisa! Question for you. What kind of cheese is best on a burger?”
I blink, startled by the randomness of the question. “Umm. Colby jack?”
My answer, as soft and unsure as it is, sends the group into a spiral.
There are yells of assent and disagreement, all of them loud.
I lean back and lock eyes with Andi, and we swap knowing grins.
This was definitely the serious discussion they’d been having, and the ridiculousness of it has just been brought to the bar, encouraged by my answer.
“It’s obviously cheddar!”
“You’d seriously take cheddar when pepperjack is right there?”
“Fuckin’ unbelievable.”
“Jordie over here said Havarti. What kind of psychopath picks Havarti?”
“A Canadian psychopath, obviously. What do you expect from people who drink their milk from bags?”
I shake my head and lean into Andi. “And they say women are the emotional ones,” I whisper. She chokes on her beer as she laughs.
“Hey,” Grant interrupts and faces Andi. “Are you two coming to the game tomorrow?”
Andi taps her fingers on the bartop, considering. “Possibly. It’s at six, right? We should be done boxing by then.”
“Boxing?” Jordie asks, giving us a surprised look. “I didn’t know I was in the presence of professional fighters here. Well, besides Grant.”
“Lisa’s got a pretty wicked right hook,” Benjamin cuts in.
I meet his gaze, even as I feel Andi’s questioning stare off to my side. My throat constricts as I remember the terror I felt at being grabbed that night, and what I did after.
Benjamin gazes right back at me, but I don’t see any resentment or pity there.
Instead, his lips curl into an amused smile, and I feel the pressure in my chest release slightly.
Maybe the way he’d teased me in the elevator days ago was really how he feels, and there’s no residual anger there.
Perhaps he really believes he was in the wrong.
The memory of the way he sat across from me after I hit him pops into my head. He’d given me time and distance, and he was respectful and calm the whole way back to the apartment, too. He hadn’t peppered me with questions like he had back at the bar.
Maybe he didn’t have anger issues after all. Was the fighting something players could just leave on the ice?
“You can hit me any day,” Grant says, and I snort. Well, maybe some players leave it on the ice. Grant clearly seems to like it rough, and his whole team knows it. But Andi is clearly into it, if the wicked grin she shoots him in response is any indication.
“Well, that certainly sounds like a treat,” she says. “Maybe after you win tomorrow.”
Gran’s grin is borderline hungry. I chuckle, and Andi wiggles a suggestive eyebrow my way. “But what about poor Lisa? I can’t leave my girl hanging. Anyone want to go on a double date with her?”
Damn it, Andi! My eyes widen in alarm, but it’s not me who disagrees. It’s Benjamin. “Something tells me Lisa’s not in the dating scene right now.”
I frown at him, unsure if I’m mad that he’s speaking for me or that he’s right. Andi narrows her eyes at him. “Be nice, Benji-boy, or I swear I’ll fucking kick you.”
Grant laughs, and Jordie clears his throat. “If you want to, Lisa, I’d love to take you out.”
I freeze, staring at him for a moment, and then give a sidelong glance over to Andi. She’s nodding in encouragement as she leans into Grant, who simply looks amused by the whole ordeal. Then, for some reason, I look over at Benjamin.
He’s regarding me with a cool curiosity, his lips pressed into a thin line.
I think about how he spent so much time hung up on the idea of me following him around, and suddenly, the idea of me going on a date with one of his teammates instead sounds hilarious.
Besides, Benjamin’s offer had been a one night stand.
At least Jordie has the decency to offer to take me out first.
I take a minute to really look at Jordie. He’s tall and fit, with light blond hair that’s carefully styled back, and kind blue eyes. He’s always been the softest-spoken one of their group, always smiling. He seems…sweet.
I think back to Andi’s words of encouragement. Maybe I do deserve this. Going on a date with a Canadian hockey boy. Is this a Minnesotan rite of passage?
“Well, even if we disagree on the best cheeseburger… that does sound like fun,” I say.
Andi whoops, and Jordie offers me a broad grin, which I return hesitantly. Benjamin steps forward to order another round, his expression unreadable.
I begin pouring the beers, and Andi launches into plans for the following night, berating me for opinions until I laugh and tell her to just make a decision.
And when I finally write down my phone number for Jordie, even I have to admit there is a flutter of excitement that starts deep in my stomach.