Kissing on Third, page 2
part #6 of Belltown Six Pack Series
His blond friend snapped his fingers, as if telling Leather-Jacket Guy to speak up. “She’s pretty, but we’re all able to talk fine around her.”
The other guys laughed. Steal’s gaze didn’t flinch or shift.
And . . . she waited.
“Is that you on the poster?” he said, his voice low, barely audible over the thumping music of the pub.
Finley’s breath stalled. She knew exactly which poster he was talking about. Mark had plastered the thing on the front door, and then back by the bathrooms. Women’s Boxing Match Saturday Night. Cover Charge $30. Fin vs. Star. Mark had added pictures of Finley and Star. Finley’s had been rather pixelated, so not too many customers put two and two together. Star’s picture showed her in an exercise bra, glittery shorts, and one of her eyes painted with a giant star.
Men’s sports got plenty of attention, even amateur sports. Women’s sports were always a harder draw. Professional or amateur. Any exposure helped. So Finley didn’t mind that Leather-Jacket Guy had seen the poster. The more patrons who showed up and paid, the more Mark would be convinced to keep hosting the women’s boxing events.
“It is,” she said. The men around the table had quieted, and everyone seemed to have zeroed in on their conversation. Finley felt her neck heat—not at the attention—but at the way Steal’s eyes had moved from her face, down the length of her body, then back up.
“Is Fin your real name?” he asked.
She wanted to lean forward to hear him better, but she remained upright. “It’s short for Finley.”
He gave the slightest nod, then said, “I’ll have the dark imported.”
It took her a second to realize he’d given her his drink order. “Oh, right, uh, I’ll be back in a few with your drinks and to take your order.” She’d spoken to the group at large, but her gaze continued to stray to Leather-Jacket Guy.
He’d set his phone on the table, and she could see the flash of texts scrolling across the screen. But he leaned back in his chair, arms folded, his eyes only on her as if he were trying to read her mind. Or maybe size her up? Was he a boxing agent?
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of a real sports agent watching one of her boxing matches. There were leagues much bigger than the one she was in, ones that paid more than $500 a win.
Finley would have to commit to more training, maybe even go part-time at the pub, but she was willing to do it.
Or. Leather-Jacket Guy was probably a friend of one of the baseball players.
She turned away and headed toward the bar. When she reached it, she put in the drink order, then she picked up the platters of roast beef sliders, fried cheese curds, and a second round of drinks for a table of three women. She crossed to their table, deliberately stopping herself from glancing over at the baseball players again. “Here you are, ladies,” she said, setting the food down.
One of the women, probably about forty, wearing cherry-red lipstick that matched her shirt, said, “Hey, can you tell Levi Cox that his next drink is on me?”
Finley hated this part of her job. Sure, pubs and bars were pickup scenes, but did they always have to be pickup scenes?
She glanced over at the table of baseball players. “Sure, which one is Levi Cox?”
The woman gave her a strange look. “Well, he’s the one without the Blue Jays cap, because, you know, he plays for the Minnesota Ice.”
Finley had no trouble picking out the guy without the hat—Leather-Jacket Guy—or Steal. “I thought his name was Steal.”
The woman smiled. “Oh, yeah, they call him Steal because he holds the MLB record in stealing bases.”
Oh. “Can I tell him who sent him a drink?” Finley said, her throat feeling tight. She should have turned down the table of six guys. Now she’d be in the middle of a flirting ring.
“Tell him my name is Bitty.” She lifted her brows, which were definitely enhanced.
“Bitty?” No way was that this woman’s name.
Bitty’s two friends laughed.
Whatever. “Okay, I’ll give him the message.”
Finley walked away and found Jess. “I’ll give you all my tips tonight if you take the table of baseball guys.”
“Mark says I’m hosting tonight.”
“I’ll give you my tips tomorrow too.”
“What’s this?” Mark said, coming up behind Finley.
How did he do that? Appear out of nowhere?
Busted. “Nothing,” Finley said. “I’m just checking on something.” She moved quickly away, hoping that Jess would keep her mouth shut. Mark didn’t like waitresses leaving or switching when serving a table. Might as well get her section served. She collected the drink orders for the baseball guys, then carried them to the table.
She set down the bottles and glasses, and when she reached Levi Cox, a.k.a. Steal, she said, “Your drink is complimentary from the table of ladies over there, sir.” She tilted her head in the direction of the table. “Specifically Bitty, the woman in the red shirt.”
The blond guy next to Levi Cox chuckled. “Nice going, Steal. You’re in here for less than ten minutes, don’t even look up from your phone, but already you have women buying you drinks.”
Levi Cox didn’t say anything for a second, and Finley wondered if that was his mojo or something. Leave everyone in suspense while he took his own sweet time to reply.
Instead of saying the usual thank you or giving Finley a message to take to the table, he pushed back his chair and stood. Finley couldn’t help but follow his movements, and well, he was tall. Six foot three. Maybe taller. Even with her heels, he towered over her. He moved past her, and she barely got out of his way. A hush had fallen over the table of baseball guys as everyone seemed to be as curious as she was.
Together they watched Levi Cox walk over to the table of the three forty-something-year-old ladies. He talked to the ladies for a couple of minutes, and Finley watched in fascination as all three women blushed and smiled and laughed.
Levi Cox didn’t even crack a smile as he spoke.
Then before Finley knew it, he was on the way back to the table. She stood aside, unsure what had just happened. But Levi didn’t take his seat again. Instead, he reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a wallet that had seen better days. He pulled out three hundred-dollar bills and dropped them on the table. “Enjoy your meal, boys. I’m calling it a night.”
The blond guy stood. “Come on, Steal. Your presence is part of the bet, man.”
“Bet’s been called off,” Levi said.
He cut a glance at Finley. She was now close enough to see that his eyes were not gray or black, but a dark green. Like the color of a winter pine tree.
“Steal,” his friend tried again.
But Levi Cox merely nodded to the other players.
Then he walked out of the pub.
Just like that. He was gone.
“That guy’s a headcase,” one of the Blue Jays said.
The blond friend sat back down. “Well, that headcase is my friend, so shut up.”
“Ooooh,” a couple of the other players said.
“Have you guys had a chance to decide what you’d like to eat tonight?” Finley said, trying to ignore her curiosity of what Levi Cox had said to the ladies and why he’d left his table full of friends. She hadn’t missed the sight of the $300 cash he’d laid down on the table like it was no big deal.
“Sorry about that,” the blond guy said. “And if any of these idiots give you a hard time, they’ll answer to me.”
“Whatever, Rabbit,” one of the Blue Jays said. “You’re all about the ladies.”
Rabbit? That had to be a nickname. Finley’s head spun with all these names and nicknames.
Rabbit shoved his teammate’s shoulder, and everyone laughed. Finley kept the smile on her face, although her thoughts had long since fled. “Must have been some bet.”
“Oh, it was,” Rabbit said with a wide smile. Apparently he wasn’t going to expound. “I’ll have the blue-cheese double-stack burger.”
CHAPTER THREE
“You’re going on a date?” Levi asked his brother over the phone. He’d just walked into his apartment and called Rhett to put a plan together for the weekend.
“Yeah,” Rhett said with a laugh. “You know, when a guy takes a girl out to dinner, and—”
“I know what a date is, Rhett,” Levi cut in. He sat on the folding chair in his living room. It was no couch, but at least the chair was padded. “I didn’t know you liked someone.”
“Erin’s a friend,” he said.
The smile was evident in his voice. Levi leaned forward and rested an elbow on his knee. “Sounds like more than a friend.”
“Well, maybe she will be by the end of tomorrow night,” Rhett continued. “So don’t worry about coming out this weekend. You’re going to cramp my style.”
Levi frowned. “You have style?”
“All right, bro,” Rhett said. “I’m going to go now. Need to take a test in the morning, then get a haircut.”
Levi scrubbed a hand over his hair, knowing he was past due for a haircut himself. Some guys in the league grew their hair out, but Levi didn’t like the upkeep. One thing was certain: if Rhett was cutting his hair, it meant something.
“Girls can be a distraction, kid,” Levi said. “A big distraction.”
“You’ve told me like four hundred times,” Rhett said. “Erin’s different. We study a lot together, and she’s not high maintenance.”
Levi blew out a breath. His brother was twenty-two, definitely old enough to get in trouble with a woman. But what should Levi say that he hadn’t already over the years? “Be careful, man. Be safe. And uh, be smart.”
Rhett laughed. “Thanks, bro. Have a good weekend.”
“Wait,” Levi said. “That’s it? Have a good weekend?”
“Yeah,” Rhett said. “Go do something unplanned, Levi. Mix and mingle. Maybe you should ask someone on a date. I saw that you played the Blue Jays tonight. Go hang out with Rabbit.”
“We had dinner earlier,” Levi said. It was only a small white lie, since they hadn’t technically gotten to the eating part before the table of three women had sent over that beer. Levi might have acted rashly in some people’s eyes, but he’d been through the scenario more times than he could count. A woman sent over a drink, then five minutes later, a friend would come and talk to him, then five more minutes later, the woman herself would come over. He’d feel obligated to invite her to sit down, in which case she’d drill him about baseball, money, whether he was dating, if he was looking for a fun night . . .
It was better to nip it in the bud before any of that progression happened.
“It’s like ten thirty, old man,” Rhett said. “You know there’s a whole other world out there that happens after the elderly and small children go to bed.”
Levi didn’t like this conversation. “Have you been doing all your homework?”
Rhett scoffed. “This conversation is done. I’ll talk to you after the weekend.”
Before Levi could respond or even apologize, Rhett had hung up on him. Rhett was a good kid, smart, responsible, and he didn’t seem to have the anger that most kids who’d been bullied had. There was no drive to fight against the norm in Rhett. Once he passed the awkward teenage years and hit college, he’d made fast friends. And apparently, friends with the ladies too.
Levi should be happy for his brother. But in truth, Levi was still angry about what Rhett had endured as a kid. Levi regretted his own actions too. He should have done more, protected Rhett more, stayed out of the principal’s office, got in fewer fights, or no fights at all.
Levi leaned back in the folding chair and rested his head against the wall behind him. Closing his eyes, he pushed away past memories. The game had been good tonight, until things took a turn for the worse in the bottom of the fifth. Rabbit had stolen second base, and the next player up to bat hit a homer. Suddenly the game was tied up, but the morale of the Ice had plunged.
The Blue Jays had pulled out a win by one point, and thus the excursion to the Green Falcon Pub. Where a woman named Finley worked and apparently boxed too. Levi had seen plenty of boxing matches, but he had never paid much attention to the female side of the sport. And it seemed the boxing match was in the basement of the pub. At midnight.
Maybe he should go.
As soon as the thought entered his mind, he scoffed. He’d just gotten back to his apartment, and he planned to do his nightly workout, then hit the shower and bed. Without traveling tomorrow, he might catch up on some things he’d been putting off, like buying groceries for his apartment. Normally he went to the grocery store early in the morning or a half hour before closing. Fewer people that way, and fewer conversations he’d have to entertain.
Levi also switched grocery stores often, which meant a lot more driving time.
Against his will, his mind strayed to the waitress at the pub again. Her wavy, black hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but he was sure it would reach her waist if she’d worn it down. He wasn’t exactly sure what color Finley’s eyes were. The pub’s lighting had been dim, but he guessed them to be brown. With a lot of spark. He’d felt it the second she’d walked over to their table, although he took his sweet time looking up at her. He couldn’t remember an occasion when he’d felt an instant attraction to a woman beyond an obvious acknowledgment that a woman was pretty.
With Finley . . . Well, he couldn’t quite explain it. But he’d known she was the woman on the boxing poster. And it had intrigued him. She couldn’t weigh more than 120 pounds, 130 tops. The female boxers he’d seen were as ripped as men, complete with thick necks and corded muscles on their legs and arms.
From what Levi had seen of Finley, she was more slender than he’d have pegged for a boxer. And what did she do with all that hair when she boxed?
Levi stood. Maybe he could watch the boxing match from the back of the room. Be in and out. Not even stay for the entire match, just the first round. Then his curiosity would be sated. He’d see Finley fight, and maybe he’d figure out why she had so much fire in her eyes.
By the time Levi parked in the back lot of the pub, it was 11:45 p.m. He doubted that Rabbit and his teammates were still around, which was a good thing in Levi’s opinion. He didn’t want to answer their questions, because, well, he didn’t know the answers himself.
Sure enough, when Levi walked into the pub, the table where he’d sat with Rabbit was filled with another party. The three ladies at the nearby table were also gone.
The hostess, with her plunging neckline, grinned up at him. “Can I get you a table?”
“Uh, where’s the boxing match?”
Her blue eyes rounded. “Follow the green arrows to the basement.” She pointed a bright-pink nail to her right.
“Thanks,” Levi said, then moved past her before she could ask anything more. Heads turned as he walked through the pub, and he was glad no one approached him with a request for an autograph.
Once he reached the stairway leading to the underbelly of the place, he found there was a line on the stairs. The man in front of him was flushed in the face like he’d run a couple of miles to get to the pub. “You okay, man?” Levi asked.
“Yeah.” The man took a gulp of air. “I thought it was at another pub, so I had to run to get here.”
Levi tried not to smile. “Glad you made it.”
“You look familiar . . .”
Here it was. And there was no use delaying. “I’m Levi Cox. Play for the Minnesota Ice.”
The man’s brows drew together. “No, that’s not it. I don’t follow baseball. Sorry.” He shrugged. “Oh well. Maybe I’ll figure it out later. I’m Patrick Dunn.”
“Nice to meet you, Patrick,” Levi said, wanting to laugh. But he didn’t. “Do you come to these a lot?”
Patrick put his hand over his heart. “Every one. I always bet on Star. She’s amazing.”
“Star?” Levi said. “Is that her real name?”
Patrick cleared his throat, then looked around them, and lowered his voice. “Well, I know her real name, but I’m sworn to secrecy.”
Levi nodded. “I’ll honor that. What do you think of her opponent? Fin?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “A greenie if there ever was one. Only been fighting in this league for a year. Don’t know why she’s matched up against Star again. The last match, Fin went down in the first round. Waste of everyone’s money, if you ask me.”
“Yet you’re here again.”
Patrick grinned. “Because of Star. I can’t stay away.”
Levi smiled. The man was whipped. “You, uh, friends outside of the ring?”
“Oh, nothing like that,” Patrick said, his face reddening again. “She does know my name, and she has said hi to me twice, you know.”
“Twice, huh?” Levi nodded. “That’s great.”
Patrick narrowed his eyes. “I’ll bet being a baseball player gets you some attention from the ladies, right?”
“Yeah,” Levi said. “But it’s not always welcome, if you know what I mean.”
Patrick chuckled, although his gaze looked confused. “Sure, sure. Well, you’re in for a treat tonight. Got my bets placed on Star. Should walk out of here with a hundred-dollar profit.”
“A hundred bucks?” Levi asked. “What’s the normal betting rate these days on women’s boxing?”
“Twenty, thirty,” Patrick said. “I go a bit bigger myself. Fifty for Star. Worth every dollar, even if she loses once in a while.”
They’d reached the bottom of the stairs, where a table was set up, taking the entrance fee. Levi handed over a hundred-dollar bill and wrote his name down on the betting list. “One please, and put the rest on Fin.”
Patrick’s eyes about popped out. “Fin? You crazy? She hasn’t ever beat Star.”
“Maybe tonight’s her lucky night.”
“Suit yourself, man,” Patrick said. “Well, I’ll see you later. Got to get to my regular place.”
