by Maya Hughes
“If you’re not ready, I can come back.” I dropped my tray and took a step away when thick, calloused fingers grazed my hand like he was going to reach out and then remembered exactly who I was. I snatched my hand back and wrapped my fingers around my notepad.
“What can I get you guys?” I turned to everyone else at the table.
They put in an order to overfeed an entire village somewhere, and I jotted it all down. The whole time I felt Declan’s eyes burning a hole into my chest. Gritting my teeth, I repeated the order back and scurried away to the kitchen to hand it off. The bar filled up even more as what seemed like the rest of campus arrived. Not too much longer left in my shift. Table service ended soon. Thank God.
The music was turned up, and it got harder to hear the customers over the roar of the crowd as they watched replays of last season’s hockey games. Practically crawling up onto the tables, I got my final orders before heading to my last customers. His table. I’d managed to do drive-by orders at Declan’s booth, dishing out drinks and food rapid-fire like the floor surrounding their booth was lava.
“It’s fine. Maybe you’ll find some undiscovered territory in the class.”
The guys all laughed before quickly gulping down their beers when they spotted me at the end of their table. The booth had gotten a bit more crowded with a few new arrivals.
“Can I get you anything else before they close the kitchen?” I raised my voice over the din of the crowd.
“Ohh, snacks,” one of the new arrivals said, grabbing the menu propped up on the table, her perfectly manicured finger running down each item. I tapped my aching foot on the floor.
“I just want like one chicken finger. Will you guys eat the rest if I only have one?” She batted her eyelashes at them, and I somehow managed not to roll my eyes so hard they’d permanently face the back of my head. I could kill a basket of chicken fingers right now. Hell, why stop at the fingers? I’d devour the whole thing. My stomach was already growling.
A faint murmur came from the back of the booth from one of the other women wrapped around Declan’s arm. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my smile on. It didn’t matter what he did or who hung all over him. I was thrown back into high school all over again. It wasn’t my business, and I didn’t care.
“I can’t hear you.” I cupped my hand over my ear.
“I’m not being caught dead ordering that drink. You better speak up!” Declan laughed and picked up his beer gulping it down until there was nothing but foam left. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and I averted my gaze as he tried to hypnotize me with his broad shoulders straining under his t-shirt. Damnit, stop looking at him!
I leaned over the table, trying to get her order and get the hell out of there. She giggled and put her hand on Declan’s shoulder to bend over the table and get closer.
“I’ll have a Buttery Nipple and a Sex on the Beach.” She twirled her finger around her hair and plopped back down in her seat next to Declan, licking her lips and staring at him like she wanted to mount him right there.
“Coming right up.”
I gathered the rest of the food and drinks, wove my way through the intense crowd, and dropped them off at the table.
“But what do you mean you’re not going to be practicing?” came a high-pitched wail from the booth. It seemed like she had the ability to speak over the volume of a hummingbird when she wanted to. Declan glared at Heath, who shrugged.
“It’s fine. I’ll miss a few until I finish a class requirement thing.” Declan elbowed Heath, who brushed it off like he’d always done with everything. Crazy how so many things changed, but some always stayed the same.
It looked like the Kings didn’t always come out on top. I slid the baskets of chicken fingers and fries and their drinks across the table, feeling vindicated.
“Looks like your slacking has finally caught up with you.” I couldn’t hold back the comment or my smirk.
He whipped his head around. Heath ducked his head and was incredibly interested in the basket of food slid under his nose. Declan’s eyes turned icy cold as he glared at me.
“Hey, don’t say that about him! He’s amazing out on the ice!” His fan club piped up, but he lifted his hand, silencing them.
“Did you flunk out of Stanford, Books? Is that why you’re here serving us beers at the same school you wouldn’t even deign to apply to instead of out in California soaking up the sun.” His fist was clenched tight on the table.
“My transfer was a choice, Declan. And I don’t need groupies to fight my battles for me. You going to send them out onto the ice when you don’t make the cut?”
One of the guys spit his beer out, showering the girls in the hoppy brew.
“Hey!” one of them shouted. I slid the check onto the table, fully expecting to get stiffed and definitely no tip, but I was willing to pay that price.
The look on his face had been enough to make it a successful night for me. I hummed my way back to the kitchen and ran through the closing checklist Larry had given me. I went back out into the bar, and Heath stood against the wall right outside the swinging doors with the check and some cash.
“You know, you two are always needling each other. I think you’re probably a lot more alike than you think.” His blond hair hung down over his eyes a bit.
“Declan and I have nothing in common. Never have. Never will.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. See you around, Mak.” He handed over the check and disappeared back into the undulating mass of people that had taken over the place. I counted the cash to make sure I hadn’t been shorted and was pleasantly surprised that there was a full 25 percent tip. My head shot up, but there wasn’t a spot of Heath’s honeyed hair anywhere to be seen.
Heath had always been a lovable guy, and it was nice of him to try to smooth things over between me and Declan, but that wasn’t happening. Making enemies of regulars probably wasn’t a good idea, but he got under my skin like no one else could. I’d never mouthed off, flipped off, or told off anyone else in my life, but for some reason it was easy with Declan.
The one time we hadn’t been at each other’s throats was because he was apparently drunk. It seemed that was the only way he could even think of getting near me. Touching me. I shook my head not ready for even more memories to come slamming home.
Grabbing a staff portion of food, I clocked out and headed to my car, parked out back. The smell of the cheesesteak and fries wafted out of the container, and even after being surrounded by it for hours, my stomach rumbled. I’d been too freaked out about my first day to eat anything. Big mistake.
Serving mountains of food all night was torture. Cheesesteaks were one thing I’d missed on the West Coast. I have no idea who told them that cheesesteaks had peppers in them, but they were dead wrong. Cheese, meat and grilled onions if you were feeling fancy.
Stealing a fry here or there wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to go to town on a cheesesteak. My feet ached, and my back needed a serious crack, but I’d made it through the entire shift unscathed. My shoes were splashed with beer from the more than tipsy students as I’d finished up the evening. Maybe I should invest in a rain slicker.
Driving all the way to the other side of campus with this precious cargo was not an option. My mouth watered as I popped open the lid to the container. Glorious fries, ketchup, and the greasiest cheesesteak ever called my name. If I’d held the foil up to the side of my face, I swear it would have said, Mak, we’ve been waiting for you.
I sat sideways in the open driver’s side seat of my car with my feet stretched out in front of me on the pavement. Shoving a handful of fries into my mouth, I could barely hold back my moan. Salt, carbs, ketchup. What more could a girl ask for? I slid my shoes off and wiggled my toes, resting them on top. The summer heat gave way to a taste of the fall temperatures to come this late at night.
My ears readjusted to the normal volume level outside. The parking lot wasn’t too packed, which made sense since most people walked from elsewhere o
n campus so they could drink to their heart’s content. Beer was still that one drink I’d never gotten used to. Trying it once or twice over the years had been more than enough for me to know it wasn’t going to happen. Beer and I were mortal enemies.
A heating-lamp cheesesteak and lukewarm fries had never tasted so good. The greasy, cheesy flavor was what I needed. Even the bread was amazing. So good to be home. I did a happy dance in my seat as I devoured the whole thing. I leaned back against my seat and let out a sigh. This was going to be a long semester.
The back door of the bar flew open, and a few people poured out. Their laughter bounced off the brick wall of the building and echoed out into the warm evening air. Time to go. Heels and sneakers clacked and squeaked as people wove in between the cars in the lot.
I crumpled up my cheesesteak foil and fry container and spotted a trash can a few feet away. Lifting my hand, I flicked my wrist, and watched the balled-up trash sailed through the air and hit the rim of the can. It ran along the edge before the satisfying thunk as it fell inside.
“Yes!” I pumped my fist overhead with a round of mock crowd applause.
“Nice shot, Books.” I jumped in my seat as I peered up at my ghost of high schools past haunting me in the parking lot with his mossy green eyes, sun-kissed freckles and sleek muscled body, which were hot if I were into that kind of thing. Who the hell was I kidding?
I bent down and slid my aching feet into my borderline destroyed sneakers.
“What? I can’t give you a compliment?” He leaned against one of the cars parked nearby.
I tugged the tongue out of the high-tops and didn’t even bother lacing them up.
“I would have thought compliments fell outside your self-absorbed personal bubble that doesn’t extend past the hockey rink.”
“Glad to see you’ve upped your levels of snark over the years.”
“Glad to see you haven’t changed one bit since the last time we saw each other.” His words ringing in my head, “Go off and have your perfect little life, and I can’t wait until it all comes crashing down on you.” He had no idea what it was like to struggle and watch the people around you suffer.
“I wouldn’t say that. While I know I was built like a Greek god back in high school, I’ve definitely improved the mold since then.” I glanced up as he flexed one arm, annoyed that I’d noticed the same thing only a minute ago. He might have been hot, but that was where it ended.
“Is this your attempt at being friendly or something?” I tilted my head to the side, trying to figure out his angle.
“And why would I be doing that?”
“I have no freaking clue. You’re the one out here making small talk.”
“I found it, Dec.” One of the girls from the booth popped up from behind the car he leaned against. “I wouldn’t want to forget this for tonight.”
I didn’t even look up to see what it was. If I was lucky, it was a butt plug for Declan, and he’d be in for a rough night. He pushed off the car, glancing behind him as I slammed my door shut. Not wanting him to think I was run off by his little groupie, I rolled down my window.
“I’m working here now and I’m going to school here too, but that doesn’t mean we have to see each other any more than necessary. If I’m your waitress, I’ll be as nice as I am to any other customer, but if you see me walking on campus, don’t be shocked if I turn around and go the other way.” He continued to stare at me like he was trying to use my old laser vision trick against me, and I squirmed a little in my seat. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
The girl from the car came around to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist, hanging on him like a Christmas ornament. “By the way,” she said, snuggling into Declan like it was a cold winter’s night, “you have some ketchup on your chin.” She pointed to a spot on her face, mirroring the spot on mine, and my tongue shot out before I could stop it. Declan opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but I rolled my window up, keeping my eyes straight ahead. Totally not pissed at all about trying to come off as a super bitch with my face drenched in ketchup.
The pair walked back toward the bar, and I flipped down my visor to check out the damage in the mirror. Grabbing some napkins from the center console, I shook my head. Of course! I rubbed the remnants of my cheesesteak off my face and rested my forehead against the steering wheel. At least I’d only have to see him after games if they came to the bar. Maybe I’d be on a shift with someone who hadn’t gone full-on psycho ex on them and I could swap tables.
It would be fine, and I could totally handle Declan McAvoy in small doses. Totally.
5
Declan
The throbbing pounding in my head meant it took me a few minutes to realize I wasn’t alone in my bed. I dropped back against the pillow and winced as pain shot straight through my skull. It was like someone took a metal trash can and whacked it as hard and as fast as they could.
My evening antics came filtering back to me through the hangover haze. The talk with Coach. That can’t-breathe-because-I’ve-just-been-kicked-off-the-team feeling. The dull pit in the bottom of my stomach that Archer would find out.
Heading to Three Streets and running into Makenna Halstead of all people. Like the universe wanted to kick me when I was down, she’d swanned in with her big blue eyes behind those glasses and shooting her usual barbs at me. Screw her!
It was like senior year all over again, but her predictions were coming true. Truer than she probably realized. Spotting her back behind the bar sitting in her car destroying that cheesesteak had made me laugh. It was like seeing the queen trip or something. She was human. The glimpse I’d gotten of that back at prom came rushing back to me. She ate and smeared ketchup all over her face like a mere mortal. And she looked cute doing it—until she slipped right back into evil-robot mode.
I didn’t need to think about her. I needed to get my head together and not screw things up even more. Going out to a club after the bar had not been a good plan, and bringing this chick home had been an even worse idea. Once the blonde in my bed found out we played hockey, she’d been relentless, practically giving me a lap dance in the club and suggesting I help her home in a taxi before conveniently being locked out of her place. It hadn’t been my brightest of ideas. It was a mistake going out. I had class this morning.
Her hair brushed against my chest, tickling my skin. It annoyed the shit out of me. I pushed her head off me, letting it fall to the bed.
She groaned and rolled over as I slid out of bed, searching the floor for some jeans or sweats. Stupid to let her stay here. How far had the apple fallen from the tree? It was like I was trying to prove I was no better than Archer, letting myself get distracted like this. Now I had to get her out. I jumped into my sweats and checked the time on the clock on my desk.
Fuck!
Past eleven. I’d already missed my first class of the day. Not exactly getting into responsible mode. I took out a clean shirt from my dresser and slammed the drawer shut. She rolled over and stretched. No time for the sleeping beauty routine.
I raced around my room, swiped my bag off the back of my chair and flung the books I’d picked up at the bookstore into my backpack. My phone was nowhere to be found. I shifted everything around on the floor and desk, but still no phone. Maybe it was downstairs. With my workout clothes jammed into my duffel, I had everything I’d need for the day.
My head throbbed as I snagged my hat off my doorknob. I walked over to the bed, not trying to keep my steps light at all. Whatever her name was sat up with the sheet wrapped around her chest.
“Hey, you’re up early.” One of her fake eyelashes had come loose and gave her a double-eyelid look.
“I have to get to class. I’m already late.” I adjusted my bag on my back in the universal I-have-somewhere-to-be move.
“I was hoping we’d have a little morning fun since we didn’t get to have any last night.” Her fingers grazed my belt loop, but I jumped back before she coul
d get me in her grasp. Passing out while she stripped was probably the best thing that had happened to me yesterday. I figured she’d have left, but it seemed persistence was her strong suit.
“Listen, I’ve got to go to class, so it’s probably best that you get dressed and head out.” I backed out of the room, making sure there wasn’t anything valuable or breakable out in plain view. “I’ll call you later.” I turned and headed down the stairs. A faint “But you don’t have my number…” filtered after me as I took the steps two at a time.
I slammed into Heath rounding the bottom of the stairs, and his searing-hot coffee splashed all over my arms.
“What the hell, man?” My angry red skin throbbed to go along with the pounding in my head.
“Sleeping in?” He rubbed his bleary red eyes and yawned.
“Accidentally and now I’m late. Have you seen my phone?” I glanced around the living room.
“I think it’s on the kitchen table. It was going crazy when I was getting my coffee.” He rubbed his bleary eyes.
“Why didn’t you come get me?” I stormed past him and into the kitchen. Notification after notification from Preston. Leaning my head against the cabinets, I closed my eyes as the room spun around me. This semester was off to an awesome start.
I shot off a quick message to Preston and grabbed a mug, filling it to the brim with the dark, piping-hot ambrosia. Heath slid a tall glass of cold water and a couple white pills along the counter.
“If you’re going to make it through classes, you’re going to need these.”
“Thanks.” I downed the pills and the water, slapped a lid on my cup and backed out of the kitchen. “By the way there is a half-naked hungover chick upstairs. Please make sure she doesn’t steal anything or otherwise destroy the place. You’re the man, bye.” I slammed the front door in his wide-eyed face and gingerly jogged down the steps, heading to campus.