by D. C. Ruins
"Hope you get some sleep in there somewhere," Heath replied, popping a toothpick in his mouth and stacking some papers together.
"Right. So, anyway, I am working at Cliff's tomorrow, and since the Pirates and the Yankees are playing at PNC tomorrow night and we're not a sports bar, it should be relatively quiet."
Heath nodded and waited for her to make her point silently, lifting his brows.
"Anyway," she said again. "If you and your boys wanted to come by for a drink I could probably hook you up with a couple freebies. Just saying."
Heath was surprised at the invitation and caught off guard. It was so random and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Was she implying that she wanted to see him outside the gym? He realized that she was waiting for some sort of acknowledgment or reply, so he cleared his throat.
"Uh, sure. That sounds good. I'll talk to Rex and Jameson. Maybe drag my brother's ass out for a change." He chose not to mention that he didn't really drink during training.
She looked pleased. "Okay. Well, no pressure. I just thought that since it'd be pretty quiet in there, you wouldn't really be bothered like you seem to be here by people coming up to you all the time. And, like I said. I can probably score you guys a couple free beers or something."
He allowed himself a half-smile. "That's nice of you. Thanks."
She cleared her throat and gave a little shrug. "All right, then. Have a good one." She turned and walked away before he could reply.
Annoyance rose again as he felt excitement at the prospect of seeing her the following evening, even though she'd be working. It was just a nice gesture from one human being to another. Nothing more, nothing less. Even so…
"Rex," he called, heading toward the door and hating himself for it. Bad as a fuckin' teenager. "What you doing tomorrow night?"
***
As Drew walked out to Bunz's car parked across the street, she cursed herself with every step. What the fuck was wrong with her? Inviting Heath Riley of all people to Cliff's for drinks? Free drinks, at that? He probably thought she was some desperate groupie now. Over the past week, they'd made lots of small talk, and she grew to look forward to seeing him each day. He was very quiet but observant, and she liked the way he paid attention to her little daily anecdotes and stories. She'd even managed to make him laugh a couple of times. Though he was still very much an enigma to her, he was nice, much nicer than she would ever have expected him to be, and he was attentive in his own way. She had known of him, of course, as all of Pittsburgh did, from the Ultimate Warrior event and all the coverage about him going AWOL and how he'd fought his own brother at Ultimate Warrior. Before her attack at the gym, she'd admired him only for his athleticism and grace in the ring; she'd assumed, unfairly as it turned out, that he would be some big-headed prick with an ego the size of the Statue of Liberty. Even after her attack, if she was being honest, the way he'd reacted by kicking the three guys out of his gym and acting concerned about her, she'd thought it was fake; an act to cover his own ass had she decided to press charges. It would have been press he didn't need, and she'd believed that he acted off of that notion. And even when he'd shown up at the café, she still hadn't been convinced of his sincerity. It had taken a lot of thought and a lot of verbal battles between her and Bunz to finally give the gym another try. And she was glad she had, because he'd turned out to be a very nice guy.
Inviting him to Cliff's had been completely impulsive and she had no clue why she'd even thought that would be a good idea. She'd felt a desire to do something nice back for him, the way he had done something nice for her, and it was the first thing that came to mind. He was a guy, right? And in her experience, guys liked to drink with other guys. She figured he was more cut out for the quiet lounge rather than a crowded, loud sports bar where every guy, and probably girl, in there would recognize him and hound him all night. Cliff's was notorious for being empty on game nights since the ambiance was not conducive to supporting sporting events. All of that had swirled together in her little mind faster than her logic could kick in, and the invitation had spurted out of her mouth before she could stop it.
She cringed, smacking her palm to her forehead. There was no way he was going to come, and then she'd have to face him again on Monday and hear his lame excuse as to why he hadn't taken her up on her even more lame offer.
As Drew reached Bunz's car, she shook her head to herself. She could really be a dumbass sometimes.
Chapter Seven
Heath followed behind Rex and Jameson as they walked into Cliff's the next night. Connor had actually gotten "permission" from Lana to have a drink with his brother and Heath was glad for it, although it was a little awkward. They were still working on rebuilding their relationship, but things were gradually getting better.
True to Drew's promise, Cliff's was pretty quiet at eleven on a Saturday night. The game had gone into overtime but would surely be concluding shortly. Then, the sports bars near the field and downtown would be teeming with drunk and enthusiastic fans—hopefully happy ones, if the score was anything to go off of at the moment. The Pirates were leading.
There was a table of some forty-something women nearby, and a table of young entrepreneurial types in the corner—they were the loudest group in there, and Heath suspected it was the start of a bachelor party or something similar. Either way, they were late twenty-somethings with styled hair and designers clothes, ogling the waitresses as they trotted back and forth from the bar to fetch drink refills and snacks. There were a few more patrons in the lounge as well, but otherwise, the large, open space was pretty bare.
They claimed a tall table midway between the door and the bar, with tall stools. Heath opted to stand for a bit, leaning his elbows on the table as he surveyed the room. He counted four waitresses on the floor, mostly waiting on the table of young men. He was sure they were making great tips, but he felt bad for what they were enduring for those tips—he'd seen at least three of them get groped somewhere on their bodies since walking through the door, and there was no shortage of "hey, baby" comments and propositions to follow them home later that night. The waitresses just giggled and acted coy, but Heath could see on their faces that they'd had enough.
The music was generally radio hits with some hip-hop mixed in. He didn't mind the music but felt that it was a bit out of place in a lounge setting such as this—he would have expected to hear jazz playing. As the table of rowdy young men began rapping along with the next song that came up, he wondered if they were commandeering the music as well as all of the waitresses and the attention of the room.
Rex had just started cracking jokes about them when Heath noticed a curvy brunette out of the corner of his eye moving toward their table. She was dressed in the requisite black that all the waitresses seemed to be wearing, although some wore dresses, some wore shorts. He glanced over at the approaching figure and then did a double-take. He had hardly recognized Drew. His eyes moved down her frame as Rex let out a low whistle. Heath kicked him under the table.
"Hey guys," she said, coming to stand at Heath's side, a slightly apologetic note in her voice. "Sorry about the waitresses—that bachelor party is sort of demanding. I'll take your order for now."
He couldn't get over how different she looked than when she came to the gym or even how she'd looked at the café; tonight, she was completely done up, glamorous even, in the fashion of the other waitresses. She wore a sequined scoop-neck black tank top that revealed a generous portion of her cleavage, which was dusted with some sort of shimmery powder, and a pair of short black shorts. Her hair was down and tousled, shining under the dim lights, and she wore heavy eye makeup. He definitely preferred her more natural look because that was just what he was into normally, but he couldn't help admitting that she looked unbelievably sexy right now, too. There was something else about her that he couldn't put his finger on, but it was different.
"Wow, Drew, you look great," Rex said.
"Thanks," she said with a smirk. "You can thank my boss
for that. He decided on the dress code." Her eyes lit on Connor, the only one she didn't recognize, and smiled shyly.
Heath was staring at her so hard he didn't immediately realize they were waiting for an introduction until Connor cleared his throat loudly. He shook himself.
"Sorry," he said quickly. "Drew, this is my big brother, Connor. Connor, this is Drew. She's –" He faltered for a moment. What was she? It had been on the tip of his tongue to say customer, client, or something like that, but it didn't quite seem right.
"A friend," Drew finished quickly, offering Connor her hand. "Nice to meet you."
Connor shook her hand and smiled, subtly shooting Heath a quick smile of approval. "Nice to meet you, Drew."
"Well," she said, her hands settling on her hips. "I did promise a round of free drinks. What'll you have?"
"You got Tank 7?" Rex asked.
"I do. I'll have the waitress bring out a round for you." She glanced around, her gaze settling on Heath, and smiled before she walked off. As she did, he realized what it was about her that had been different. She was wearing black studded boots with a tall spiky heel, the tops of which reached to just under her calf. He was used to her being so much shorter than him, but tonight, she'd almost been eye level.
"Good job," he heard Connor say, and turned just as his older brother's hand clapped down on his shoulder. Heath looked at him, frowning in confusion.
"Good job on what?" he asked.
Connor cocked his head curiously. He nodded in the general direction Drew had gone off in. "Isn't that you?" he replied.
"No," Heath said, averting his eyes. "I hardly know her. We're not really even friends. She just comes to the gym."
"Yeah, he doesn't spend hours a week talking to her or anything," Rex said loudly, making Connor chuckle and Heath glare at him murderously. "He doesn't spend the rest of the time talking about her either."
"Shut the fuck up," Heath said sharply. "He's being stupid," he added to Connor. "It ain't even like that."
"Why not?" Connor asked, genuinely confused. "She's a beautiful girl. What's the problem?"
"Nothing," Heath replied testily. "Who said I had a problem?"
"Oh, Jesus," Jameson said, swiping a hand down his face. "Here we go."
"Dude, you don't have a problem," Rex said reassuringly, patting the air. "You're just a huge fucking pussy. That's all."
"Fuck you," Heath shot back, rising from the stool he had just sat down on. At that minute, Drew returned to the table, carrying a tray with four pint glasses filled with beer.
"Hey, you're our own personal waitress too?" Rex asked with a grin. "And here I thought you were just the barkeep."
Drew shot him a look, but smiled. "The frat boys in the corner are being really demanding and obnoxious, so I guess you guys are stuck with me for a while. Just don't have me walking around all over the place. These shoes hurt my feet."
She placed their glasses in front of them and Heath shifted uncomfortably as she placed his down. She didn't miss the look on his face and furrowed her brow.
"What is it?" she asked. "Would you like something else? It's no problem. Do you like liquor instead?"
He leaned in so he wouldn't have to shout over the music, close enough to smell her perfume and noted the light smattering of freckles across her nose in the dim lighting. "Actually, can I just have a club soda with lime?"
She looked at him in surprise. "Of course. Sorry, I didn't realize…" Her hand hovered next to the glass.
"Hey, hey, hey," Rex said, reaching out to stop her. "You leave that. He's training, he doesn't get to drink."
"Oh," Drew said, her face visibly relaxing, and for a moment, Heath wondered if she thought he was an alcoholic or something. She smiled, pushing his glass to the middle of the table. "I'll let you three fight it out. Club soda with lime coming right up."
Heath nodded his thanks and watched his brother and his friends take down the swill with lust. He knew that Tank 7 was an extremely tasty, potent beer and in fact he enjoyed it. He would have loved to down his pint, but he was extremely dedicated to succeeding at Smackdown, so he pushed the craving aside. Drew brought him his club soda and lime in record time, and returned to the bar after placing down a bowl of snacks and making sure they were set. As the four of them engaged in random conversations, trading MMA war stories, making comments about the waitresses, and life in general, Heath's eyes kept straying to Drew. She seemed perfectly comfortable behind the bar, expertly mixing drinks, pouring beers, garnishing cocktails. She danced idly to whatever song was playing as she worked, and handled the drunken guys across the lounge with grace and ease as they stumbled to the bar, buying shots for themselves and imploring her to take one with them. He saw her comply only twice; the rest of the invitations she either refused or passed off the shots to others.
Eventually, Jameson and Rex decided to call it a night. They both had to be at the gym fairly early the next morning for opening. Heath glanced at his watch and noted that it was about time for the lounge to close. He moved toward the bar when he noticed that Drew seemed relatively free and was wiping down the counter.
"Hey," he said, leaning on the bar.
She glanced up at him and shoved a lock of hair behind her ear. "Hey," she returned. She nodded at their empty table. "Your two friends couldn't keep up?"
He smirked. "Nah. They just have to work in the morning and knew that their boss would be pissed if they were late."
She smiled at that and nodded. "Their boss can certainly be a scary guy when he wants to."
"So, you leavin' here soon?" he asked. "It's about closing time."
"Yeah," she sighed. "I don't have to stay for closing duties tonight, the other girls will handle that. But I want to wait for these assholes to get going." The group of obnoxious guys was very slowly making their way toward the door.
"Well, let me and Connor give you a ride home," Heath said. "We drove together, and it looks like I'm going to have to drive him anyway. He's a lightweight. Unless your girl is coming to pick you up?"
"No, Bunz and her boyfriend are having a date night tonight," Drew said. "I don't want to interrupt so I thought I'd take the bus."
Heath frowned and shook his head. "No. No bus. I'll take you home." He glanced over his shoulder as the lounge suddenly got quieter and noticed that the group of guys had moved outside. He turned back to Drew. "Why don't you get your stuff and come outside. Connor and I will go get the car."
"If you're sure," Drew said uncertainly. "Bloomfield is not super close. I'd hate to impose."
"I'm sure," Heath replied. "Meet you outside." He turned and walked off to collect Connor before she could protest further. Connor was hunched over, texting on his phone, hardly noticing when Heath approached. "C'mon, bro," Heath said. "Let's get the car. Give me your keys. I'm taking Drew home, too."
"How chivalrous of you," Connor said with a smirk.
"Whatever," Heath said with a shake of his head. "I just don't want her taking the bus by herself that far this late at night."
"Hey, I support this," Connor said. "A new sister-in-law? Hell, yeah."
Heath couldn't help laughing out loud at that one. "You might be getting a little ahead of yourself." He threw an arm around his slightly tipsy older brother's shoulder and yanked him toward the door. "Now, come on."
Heath shoved the door open and saw several of the annoyingly drunken guys still outside. He didn't spare them another glance, shouldering roughly past them, but drew their stares.
"Hey, those are the dudes!" one of them called, and Heath didn't turn around. "The brothers! The MMA dudes from Ultimate Warrior! Holy shit, bro, can I have your autograph?"
A chorus of laughs erupted from them when neither Heath nor Connor turned around to acknowledge him.
"Asshole!" the speaker shouted at him, slurring his words. Heath clenched his jaw, his fist balling involuntarily.
"Calm down, man," Connor said quietly. "Let's just get to the car."
Conno
r handed over his keys when they reached his Range Rover and Heath hopped into the driver's seat. Connor climbed into the backseat and Heath looked at him curiously.
"The fuck are you doing?" he demanded. Connor grinned at him.
"The lady should sit in the front," he said. "I can pretend to pass out if you want, so you can say all your sweet nothings to each other."
Heath shook his head in annoyance. "Shut up, man." He backed the vehicle out of the stall and carefully pulled out into the street. As he pulled up closer to the bar, he frowned. Drew was standing just outside the door, and the crowd of guys had closed in on her slightly.
"What's this?" Connor murmured from the backseat.
Heath expected her to shove through them to the car; she was a bartender, and he figured she'd be used to dealing with drunk, obnoxious men. But the look on her face stopped him; she was frozen in place, her eyes huge with the same fear he'd seen the night of her attack at the gym, and she stared blankly in front of her as two of the guys leaned in close, flanking her.
Abruptly, Heath thrust the gear shift into park and hopped out of the car.
***
Drew hurried through the short checklist of cleaning duties she had at the bar before hurrying to the back to get her jacket and bag. She was grateful for the offered ride home; truthfully, the idea of traveling at least an hour on a smelly bus with the weirdos this late at night freaked her out more than she cared to admit.
"You guys ok?" she called to the other girls.
"Yes," one of them called back. "You stayed mad late last week doing this shit. Go on. We got it."
Drew smiled over her shoulder. "All right. Have a good night, ladies. Good work tonight."
She moved toward the door, feeling the cool blast of air breeze in from outside as she pushed out. Immediately, her stomach clenched.
Several of the guys from the obnoxious group were outside still, smoking and drunkenly cavorting in front of the lounge. She assumed they were waiting for their friends to come back with the cars. Either way, in order to get across the street she was going to have to walk through them.