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“Here,” she says from behind. “Move over.”
I slide to the side. I watch as she flips through the different screens with ease until she arrives at the right one. She slows down at the spot where I was tripped up and demonstrates the right way to enter the information.
I sigh in frustration.
She smiles, her fingers wrapping around my shoulder comfortingly. “It’s your second shift, Madison. You’re doing great. Cut yourself some slack.”
“Tell that to all the people glaring at me from the tables across the room.”
“The only thing I’ve noticed is that group of guys who were here earlier, trying desperately to get your attention.” She snickers. “Concentrate on three of your tables. I’ll take the other two.” She squeezes before letting go. “It gets easier.”
“Can’t wait for that,” I croon. “And thanks!”
The bartender slides three drinks across the counter, and I load them onto a tray. I balance my way through the crowd and manage to deliver them in one piece to the high-top table.
I check my other two tables, thankful that Henley is covering the others for the rest of the night, and take a moment to look around. The bar is packed, and the energy in the place is high. Music is playing overhead, and the band is tuning instruments on the small stage across the room in preparation for their performance.
I don’t recognize this band. The lead singer glances up just as I look over, and we make eye contact. I hold his gaze when he doesn’t look away. He’s cute. He looks to be around six foot or so with a lanky but fit body. His hair is on the longish side, but the aesthetic fits the rocker vibe he has going. Two dimples pop when he smirks at me, giving him a boyish appearance. I smile back.
I load another tray and make a run to one of Henley’s tables. She winks at me in thanks when we pass each other. Teamwork.
I’m just starting to get the hang of things when the band begins to play. The lead singer leans into the microphone, and his voice is deep and rich, like warm honey. They cover an old Pearl Jam song first, and the entire place is instantly mesmerized.
I keep delivering drinks and food when they’re ordered, stopping to listen to the music when I can. The crowd becomes entranced by the sounds coming from the stage. About halfway through the third song, the door opens, and the energy pulses and shifts. I know Ollie is here before I even see him.
He’s surrounded by Charlie and Ben. All three are impressive as they make their entrance inside the sports bar, stealing everyone’s attention away from the stage. But Ollie takes it a step further. He has that it factor that sets him apart somehow even though he doesn’t try. Weirdly, the hockey stud shies away from attention much more than he seeks it out. But it never stops him from commanding a crowd.
The organ in my chest does a weird flip when my eyes land on him. All three men pause just inside the door and are immediately swarmed by women. It’s like they give off crazy pheromones to attract all the members of the opposite sex that are in the area.
Ollie’s wearing cargo shorts and a white T-shirt with a hockey logo on the front. Scruff is scattered across his jawline, and it only enhances his smile when he laughs at something someone said.
I look away, uneasy by how I’m feeling. I’m hurt and mad at him for avoiding me lately. But part of me misses him too. I’m not sure which emotion is winning right now. He’s so familiar, like a comfortable, old blanket. Yet there’s this pull between us now that wasn’t there before. Something almost forbidden. It’s as exciting as it is confusing. But I’d give it all up if it meant going back to the easygoing relationship we had before. Maybe.
The music fades, and I glance back at the stage to catch the lead singer announcing a short break and that they’ll be back in ten. He jumps down, only to be stopped by two women who have been planted at the front since the beginning of the show. I think it’s the only women in the place who aren’t shooting their shot with the trio of hockey players currently by the front door. The rock star runs a hand through his shaggy hair and flashes those dimples at them in reward.
I clear a table, which is immediately filled with new bodies as soon as it’s clean. I take four new drink orders and head over to conquer the computer. I’m still slow, but I’m getting the hang of it.
“Hey,” a deep voice says from across the bar.
I look up to see the lead singer standing in front of me.
“Hey,” I reply, biting my lower lip to hide my smile as I type in the order.
“I’m Johnny,” he says.
I finish my task and lean against the wood barrier that separates us while studying him. “Johnny,” I murmur and tilt my head, “like Johnny Cash?”
He chuckles. If this is something he hears a lot, he doesn’t act irritated by it. “Like Johnny Solheim.”
He glances down at my name tag. Or maybe he’s checking out my cleavage in this shirt. Henley tied the back of it so the material stretches tightly across the girls in the front. She promised the tips would be better this way.
“And you are …”
“Madison.” I fill in the blank for him.
He hums, and even that sound tickles my ears.
“Nice to meet you, Madison.” Johnny flashes those dimples again. “Can I have a shot of tequila?” he asks.
