Page 33 of Game Plan

A girl sitting ahead of us asked something I didn’t quite catch about a reading we had to do for next week, and a guy one row behind us asked about office hours. The class started soon after, and for the next forty minutes, I focused on the paper in front of me. Donovan had left ten minutes ago and waved at me before walking out of the room. Satisfied with my answers, I reached the front of the class and handed my test sheet to the teaching assistant. He scanned the piece of paper with a frown before smiling at me. “You did great.”

“Thank you.” He stared at me for a bit, and I felt self-conscious. The guy was twenty-two at the most and had longish blond hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t my type, but from the way he eyed me, I was pretty confident I was his. Before things got too awkward, he dismissed me with a wave. “See you next class, Miss⁠—”

“Shepard.”

He bobbed his head once and brought his attention to a stack of papers set on the corner of his desk. Before he changed his mind and struck up a conversation, I bolted out of there, relishing the fresh air once I stepped down the stairs. I turned left and took the pathway leading to the quad in the direction of my next class.

“Table eleven requested you,” Barry, the barman, said between mouthfuls of the sandwich he was devouring as I entered the employee break room to discard my jacket and purse in one of the lockers. There was a drizzle outside, and I had rushed here after my training, not wanting to look like a wet puppy all night in case the hair I’d spent fifteen minutes blow-drying got damp.

I glanced at my watch. “I’m not on the clock for another ten minutes.”

“I know. The guy asked if you were working tonight and to send you over when you arrived.”

I winced. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Mason tonight. Who else would request me? Other than my roommate and two closest friends on campus, I didn’t think I was on anyone else’s radar.

“Want me to ask Damon to deal with it?” Barry asked, probably noticing my annoyed expression. Almost as old as George, the owner, Barry had worked at Lola’s since its early days. He always made sure the servers were treated with respect by the customers. He started as a barman after his baseball career at Crestwood University took an abrupt end due to an elbow injury back in the day.

“Nah. Thanks, though. I’ll take care of it.” I adjusted my T-shirt and the apron around my waist, making sure I had at least two pens and a notepad in there, and tied my hair in a high ponytail. Grabbing the pink-tinted lip gloss I kept in my pocket, I coated my lips and smacked them together. With one last glance in the small mirror mounted on the wall by the door, I made sure my mascara wasn’t smudged due to the rain, and I looked just how I should.

“Hey, Mel.” I turned to face Barry before making my exit. “If that guy is bothering you, please ask Damon to kick his ass out. George wouldn’t want his newest employee being harassed by some I can’t take no for an answer dickhead.”

I nodded. “I will.”

I had three more minutes left before the beginning of my shift, but I was too curious about what Mason wanted to wait any longer before making my way to his table.

I halted when I neared table eleven. The guy making eye contact with me looked nothing like my neighbor back home. Darker hair, thick brows, brown eyes, and cheek dimples. “Jett?” I perused around us, wondering if Jules was here too, until I noticed a single glass of water on the table next to a basket of garlic bread and a side of coleslaw.

He waved at me and grinned. “Hey. I hope it’s okay I’m here. The guy behind the bar said your shift started at five, and I didn’t really order because I wanted to wait for you.”

I reeled in my surprise and nodded. “Yeah. Sure. You’re hungry?”

“Starving. I drove right here after hockey practice, and I only had a protein shake for lunch. I’m dreaming of a burger with a basket of onion rings and a house salad. I had no idea if you would be here, but I took a chance. Shawn and Jules told me to stay away from his apartment until eight. They’ve planned a romantic evening, so I need to kill some time before I can go over there.”

“There’s a game tonight, so it will get pretty busy, and I won’t have time to chat with you, but I can place your order now to avoid the rush if you’d like.”

“That would be amazing. Thanks.”

I noted his order down on the pad in my hand. “Anything else?”

“A tall glass of iced tea, please. I may get some wings later if the game is any good and I can’t go back to Shawn’s.” He twisted the paper napkin in his hands. “I also came here because I wanted to ask you on a second date.”

His dark irises locked on mine, and from how hot my cheeks felt, I was pretty certain they were flushed.

“We had fun the other night, and I was hoping you’d agree to go out with me again.” He looked like a little boy as he watched me with expectation brightening his eyes.

“Sure. I would love to.” We really had a great time the other night. Even though I wasn’t interested in a relationship right now, I loved the company. And who knew where this could lead.

“Awesome. Saturday night?”

I offered him a tight-lipped smile. “I have a meet on Sunday. I won’t be available before next Thursday. That’s my only night off. Would it work for you?”

He appeared to think for a minute. “All good. I’ll text you next week so we can make plans.”

I pointed behind me. “Sorry, gotta go. Keep me updated. I’ll bring your food in a little while. Let me know if you need anything else in the meantime.”

It was seven minutes past ten when I finally retreated to the break room to gather my jacket and purse. My feet were aching tonight. I didn’t recall serving so many draft beers and baskets of chicken wings since I’d started working here. Hockey nights were always busy, but tonight was something else. I removed the elastic band from my hair and let it fall down my back, massaging my scalp with my fingertips. All I could picture in my head was a hot shower, soft PJ pants, and my bed.

“Need a friend to walk you home?” Mason asked me when I stepped outside, fastening my jacket as the night breeze sent strands of hair flying, some sticking to my gloss-coated lips. He was standing by the brick wall, stretching his quads, wearing a pair of steel-blue joggers and a zipped teal fleece with the football team logo printed on the front.