Page 4 of The Other Side of Wild
I haven’t been here in years. It wasn’t The Tap Room before I left for Washington when I first got drafted. It used to be a gourmet mac and cheese place. Being here in its newly renovated space is strange. I left as one person and came back a different one, demolished and rebuilt, kind of like the change in its interior before compared to now. It’s comforting in an unexpected way.
Before the guys can take the jokes any further, I’m saved by two five-foot-something giggling ladies. Turning to face them, I cross my arms over my chest and ask, “Care to share the joke with the rest of the class?”
“Look, Bulldozer, I found you a bell.” Hanging on Hannah’s long, slender finger is a pink cat collar fully equipped with a bell. I take it from her and clip it around my wrist like a bracelet. It jingles every time I move.
“This is the best gift I’ve ever been given,” I say, smiling down at the slack-jawed woman in front of me who is staring at my bare forearms, eyes trailing from my elbow to my wrist. Taking my pointer finger and placing it underneath her chin, I push up until her mouth is closed. “Don’t want you catching flies, Kitten.”
“Kitten?” She asks as her eyebrow arches. Maybe I’m crazy, but I freaking love that it’s raised in my direction for the second time today. The clear challenge in her eyes as she waits for my answer.
I roll my arm back and forth, making the bell ring repeatedly, drawing out my response time. She gives me a little huff. “Yeah, you got me a cat collar. You’re now Kitten,” I say with a shrug.
“Whatever you say, Bulldozer.” Winking at me over her shoulder as she walks to the bar to order her drink.
I catch Abby staring with an expression I can’t quite read. “What's that look for?” She stares for a minute, then shakes her head with a smile.
“You’re screwed, Wilder.” I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but before I could, Hannah walked back up to the table with three beers placed perfectly in the palm of her hand. She hands one to Abby, one to me, then takes a sip of the other, smiling at me over the rim. Color me impressed. If I tried to hold two beers in one hand, we’d have a clean-up on aisle 12 situation.
“Where’d you get this so fast?” I raise my wrist and watch as she takes a sip, her eyes never leaving mine. Her glass meets the table with a quiet thud before she swallows and darts her tongue out to the side of her mouth, catching a stray drop of beer.
“The pet store, when I walked past it on the way here, I couldn’t help myself.” She shrugs as she breaks eye contact, not saying anything else before she sits on the chair Monroe pulls out for her.
One beer turns into four, and I’ve learned more useless information about three of my teammates in the last hour than I probably ever needed to. Like the fact that Andrews listens to “Call Me Maybe” in the car before coming into the locker room for every game. Or that Reed would switch lives with The Rock because he’s so charismatic.
I also learned that Monroe wishes he could teleport because one time during a game, he was on a breakaway with seconds left in a game and caught the edge of his skate. Tripping and ending up on his back spread eagle, he got up, but not before the other team could clear the puck out of their zone. He said he would have done anything to zap himself anywhere else at that moment.
It’s not the guys I’m itching to learn more about, though. It’s the auburn-haired beauty to my right that my gaze keeps returning to. A playful grin grows across her face as she answers a question about the most embarrassing interview she’s ever conducted.
“Do I have something on my face, Wilder?” She asks with a booming laugh when she realizes she scared the crap out of me. I’m captivated, and I know I shouldn’t be. I’ve been burned, and I need to stay out of the kitchen.Who are you kidding, buddy?
“No, ma’am. I’m just trying to figure you out.” I say as I stretch my arms above my head, effectively popping my back. She leans into me and crooks her finger, beckoning me closer.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not that interesting. I work and work out, play with my dog, read my books, and go to sleep. That’s it.” Then she straightens herself back up and tunes back to the conversation the others are having. She says that, but I don’t buy it. She’s like a puzzle I want to piece together, one where I don’t know what the big picture is until I finish it.
It’s not until Hannah gets up to go to the bathroom that I realize two hours have gone by. It felt like thirty minutes. I’m enjoying getting to know my teammates, our physical therapist, and the journalist, who I’m going to be seeing a lot more of this season. When Hannah gets back to the table, she and Abby start talking amongst themselves when a male voice calls loudly across the bar. “Hannah, I knew that was you! Hey!”
Hannah’s back goes completely straight as the color drains from her face. Abby’s morphs into one of pure rage. For some reason, I don’t understand, my own anger flares to life. I’m off my chair and standing behind her with a hand on her shoulder before I can even think about it. To my surprise, she places her hand on top of mine and gives it a soft squeeze. I’m not sure who the heck this guy is, but I already don’t like him solely based on her body’s reaction to his voice.
“Hannah, it’s been forever. How have you been?” The guy in question asks as if they’re long-lost friends.
Before she could answer, Abby jumped in. “Listen here, you have some nerve coming over here acting like everything is fine and dandy. Take a hike.” Ten points for Abby. He, however, doesn’t take a hike.
“Is your name Hannah? Because the last time I checked, it was Abby, and I was not speaking to you.” A humorless sound leaves Hannah at that comment. She turns her body to face the dude in question, leveling him with a glare I pray I am never on the receiving end of.
The fingers of her free hand drum on the table. If her other hand weren’t on top of mine, I would think she was completely indifferent. But it’s shaking, whether from anger or fear—I don’t know—and I don’t like it regardless. “Kyle, you need to leave. I have nothing to say to you. I’ve had nothing to say to you for more than four years now.”
Kyle. Kyle? I’ve decided I hate all Kyles now. He rolls his eyes and what he says next has me seeing red. “You think you’re all high and mighty like it’s a hardship to have a conversation with me. You’re nothing special, Han. You weren’t then either. I was doing you a favor by coming to say hello.”
That does it, I snap. “Wait a damn minute.” It comes out gruffer than I intended; Hannah flinches next to me, drops her hand from mine, and curls in on herself a bit. I feel bad, I’m too far gone to reel it back though. “Who talks to someone like that? She didn’t approach you; you came over here, then decided to talk crap about the personyousought out. Doesn’t work like that, buddy.” My jaw clenches. I recognize this behavior all too well. My body tenses as I think about my own past. “It’s time for you to go.” I grit out, not taking my eyes off him.
I see Hannah’s eyes widen; she shrinks back a bit more as she watches Kyle’s face turn a violent shade of red. “Screw you, Han, you’ve always been weak. It’s no surprise you have yourself a little guard dog.” Jutting his chin in my direction, I squeeze the hand that's still sitting on Hannah’s shoulder a bit too hard, and she hisses through her teeth. My free hand is clenching and unclenching, trying to get some kind of handle on myself.
Kyle turns on his heel and stomps out the door before anyone can get another word in. I watch as the fight bleeds right out of her. She closes her eyes as her chin lowers towards her chest. Abby is glaring a hole in the back of his head as the door slams behind him.
It’s hard to miss the fact that she’s now folded into herself, trying to make herself small, invisible. Her eyes darted around the room, I’m assuming, to see who was paying attention. But it was the flinch when I yelled that made my heart drop to my feet. It was like she was waiting for the next blow to land.
As the adrenaline fades, the pounding in my ears subsides a bit; we could both use some air. Holding my hand out to her, she looks up at me with an emotion I can’t quite name before her hand slides into mine. I pull us toward the patio doors, dodging people as wego. Once we’re outside, I lean against the building wall and put my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that they’re twitching. “You okay?”
“I will be. Being out here is helping. Thanks.” A small, forced smile crosses her face but is gone as quickly as it appeared. Her throat bobs as she swallows. Something about the softness of her voice out here calls to me.