MITCHELL

When the first sorority party came around, Nash Reed was already a popular kid on campus. There were some of the older hockey players, most of the football team, and a couple of baseball players that also drew a hell of a lot of attention, but for being a freshman, Nash was it. Girls checked him out wherever he went, and he was constantly invited to parties. He brought me along, of course, because during that short time we'd become the best of friends. We had each other's back, both on the team and as roommates, and quite frankly I was the most content I'd ever been, even with the stress of having to make both good grades to keep the scholarship, and to fight for a spot on the team.

I know Nash hooked up back then. In fact, he left that first sorority party with a busty blonde, and based on the attention he got wherever he went he had every opportunity to get lucky, but I knew he didn't always take it. He spent more time hanging out with me, or the team, than he did with different girls. The rumors, however, had him as a serious player, and Nash didn't do much to fight it.

Whenever Nash did go with a girl she was usually tall and blonde. I realized after Nash and Kennedy began to date why that was. He'd always had a thing for her and all those girls he just fooled around with were the complete opposite to her petite frame and long dark hair.

I wasn't a player. Never had been, and still wasn't even though I'd tried to act like Nash and some of the other guys on the hockey team. I just had a problem hooking up with girls just for sex. It wasn't like I hadn't done it. I had. I was a man after all and long dry spells got to me just like every other guy, especially when the beautiful girls showed some interest in me. One thing would lead to another, but it was never something I'd been fully comfortable with, or something I set out to find. I much preferred to have a relationship to meaningless sex.

The bathroom was steamy after the hot shower I had just taken. I used the corner of the towel to wipe off the mirror so I could fix my hair. I stared at my image as I tried to figure out why all these thoughts were in my head now? Was it because I was going to turn twenty-seven in a few months and I was still single? I hadn't felt any pressure to settle down before, but then Nash hadn't been engaged. Now he was about to get married, and I was sharing my apartment with his soon-to-be brother-in-law. 

I cracked the door to let some of the steam out into the master bedroom and proceeded to get dressed. For some reason, my mind wouldn't stop spinning even though I tried to think of something, okay anything, other than my non-existing love life.

I was starting to get sick of the single life for sure. Living with Jackson wasn't really a hindrance since I didn't bring a lot of women here before he moved in, but now it was non-existent. It felt awkward to bring someone back to the apartment even though it shouldn't. It was my place after all. Not that I had that many prospects.... okay maybe there was one, but what I wanted was a real relationship and I knew that took time. Like what Nash and Kennedy had. True love. I may never say that out loud because the hockey mates may laugh me out of the building, but that was what Nash and Kennedy had, and what I wanted. I'd never seen Nash so happy before, and Kennedy really was a gem. She was perfect for him. It had been a beautiful yet challenging journey for them to get to this point, I knew that first hand, having been along for the entire ride as Nash's supporter, but if that was what it took to get the forever love, I was ready.

"Are you ready to go?" Jackson yelled from the kitchen.

I grinned at myself in the mirror. I guess I was ready for more than just dinner.

"Yeah, just about. Is the car already here?"

"In a minute."

After one last look in the bathroom mirror, I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed towards the door where Jackson was already waiting. He was dressed similarly to me in shorts and a three-button T-shirt. The only difference was that my shirt was blue with khaki shorts while Jackson's shirt was white and his shorts a checkered blue and green. We were going to meet Nash, Kennedy, Sammy, and Bryce at a restaurant downtown near the Brooklyn bridge. It was a new popular place that Sammy's friend, Baxter, had recommended. He knew the chef and had been able to get us a reservation.

New York City in the summer can be ridiculously hot, and smelly. It's like you can see the heat rising from the blacktop, mixing with the fumes from the subway vents. People are sweating as they hurry towards their destinations, their smell partially covered by heavy perfumes. The overflowing garbage cans and rotting food left on sidewalks add to the stench.

It was after six in the evening when the car pulled up in front of the restaurant, but it was still balmy outside. Jackson comments on both the heat and the stench as we exited the car and walked towards the restaurant. I agree with him.

Nash, Kennedy, and Sammy had already arrived and were seated at a large round table in the back of the restaurant. It wasn't visible from the waiting area so the hostess led us over.  They had already ordered drinks, and by the look of how full their glasses were, they hadn't been there long. Nash had some kind of draft beer and Kennedy and Sammy some fruity-looking thing in a wineglass.

Jackson took the seat next to Sammy and I sat down next to Nash, which left the seat between us empty for Bryce who showed up a couple of minutes later.

"Hi, Mitch," Kennedy greeted me with the familiar soft smile on her lips.

"Hey, girlfriend. What are you drinking?"

"Sangria," she responded and picked up her glass and held it out to me. "Want to try it?"

"Sure," I said and accepted the glass from her. It was a red liquid with some ice cubes and slices of orange and some other kind of fruit floating around in the glass. It tasted sweet, maybe too sweet for me, but refreshing as well.

"It's good right?" Sammy asked and I nodded my head in agreement. "Do you want to try mine too?" She asked and gestured towards her glass that looked similar to Kennedy's but had a yellowish color.

"What's yours?" I asked as I accepted the glass from her.

"White Sangria. It just has white wine instead of red."

"Oh, that makes sense" Jackson commented as I took the straw between my lips and tasted the drink. It was good as well, maybe even more refreshing than the red.

"That's a great summer drink," I said as I handed the glass back to Sammy.

"Mhm," she agreed.

"Would you like a glass of Sangria, Sir?" The young waitress - that looked like she belonged at one of the sorority parties we used to go to - was suddenly at my side.

Bryce chuckled and mumbled something about "being fruity" under his breath, but I didn't care. I ordered a white one. They went down quite easily. Soon one glass had become three. 

"I think this waitress has a thing for Mitchell," Kennedy singsonged after we finished our dinner and the young waitress had stopped by for what must have been the second time in five minutes to see if we needed anything else. Every time she stepped in between me and Nash.

"I think you are right," Sammy laughed and winked at me. "You could get lucky tonight, Mitch," she teased.

I wasn't so sure about that. Usually, the girls were drawn to Nash. Not that it mattered. I didn't want some random girl for the night anyway, and especially not someone so young.

"Jailbait," Nash mumbled as he reached for his beer.

He wasn't wrong and I wouldn't go there even if she offered. I wanted something more, someone more mature. Someone like Kennedy or Sammy...

"You must need it. It's been what, a month?" Bryce chuckled next to me.

"Dude..."

He was right, but I didn't really want my friends, especially not the girls, to hear about my sex life, or lack thereof.

I had hooked up with a girl I met at the nightclub in Jamaica after Isaac and Melinda's wedding. Jackson and I went there after the wedding ceremony and Bryce had shown up later on with a group of girls in tow. We'd had a couple of drinks together but went our separate ways after that. I am pretty sure both Jackson's and Bryce went ahead and hooked up with women they met at the club too. Deidre had been pretty and willing and I'd been drunk and a bit down.

"A month?" Sammy squealed, her eyes the size of saucers. "Like that's a bad thing," she huffed. "Try nine."

"NINE?" Bryce looked dumbfounded as he stared over at her like she was some kind of weird species he had never heard of, or from a different planet.

For some reason, it made me happy that she hadn't been with anyone in that long, but it was surprising as well. There was just no way Sammy had problems picking up guys. She was beautiful. On the tall side for a woman, with a slim, model-like figure. Her blond hair looked soft as it curled around her shoulders and she had the most beautiful honey-colored brown eyes.

"Yeah, Bryce, nine," she confirmed and held up nine fingers. "It's not that easy being a single woman in New York. You might think there are a lot of single men out there, but there aren't, and the single ones are either creepy as shit, or not interested."

"I doubt that," Bryce flirted. "I'm single in New York..."

"That kind of confirms her point," I teased, but Bryce didn't even acknowledge my jab. Kennedy however giggled softly and Jackson smirked.

"So are you and Jackson..." Nash chuckled.

"Yeah, maybe not my best comment," I agreed.

Sammy cocked her head to the side and gave Bryce a slow look over. "Not all of us can look like you with your dark, broody, bad boy vibe."

"Is that what you are looking for?" Nash asked in an amused tone. "The bad boy?"

"I just don't want a jerk," Sammy responded and gave Nash a look before turning back to Bryce. "I'm just saying, I get what he has that girls fall for. It certainly helps that he is super tall and full of muscles and has those sexy tattoos..." Sammy gestured wildly with both hands towards Bryce whose smile just got bigger and bigger.

I felt a small tinge of burn inside my chest. Was that what she was attracted to? Someone like Bryce? Sure he was tall, and broad, and had plenty of tattoos covering his upper body, but I wasn't that much smaller. Bryce was also notorious for sleeping around. I was used to being second best to Nash back in the day, but Bryce? What Nash had been pre-Kennedy was nothing compared to Bryce. As far as I knew he rarely slept alone, even though that wasn't a well-known fact. The news never talked about it. Probably because Bryce wasn't as big of a star in the hockey world as Nash was, so people didn't focus as much on his personal life.

"You like?" Bryce asked Sammy, suddenly on board with what was going on. He raised his arms and flexed his biceps, showing off the full sleeve tattoos he has.

"Ohhh," Sammy reached her hand out in front of Jackson to touch Bryce's bulging arm."Yes, very nice."

"Tattoos can be very sexy," Kennedy agreed.

Nash's head swung around and he stared wide-eyed at his fiancé. "Yeah?"

Both Kennedy and Sammy smiled and nodded.

"Yeah."

"Should I get more?" Nash asked his fiancé.

Kennedy's smile widened and she leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Nash's face split up into a huge grin, so whatever it was that she was telling him, it clearly made him happy.

"So is that my problem?" I asked, honestly curious. I phrased the question so that anybody could answer but I really wanted to know what Sammy thought. I had no tattoos at all. Sure I'd considered getting them a couple of times but I never went through with it. I also wasn't dark, or had a bad boy vibe. My Scandinavian ancestors had given me the larger size, but I was very blond and blue-eyed. There was nothing broody or intimidating about me unless we were on the ice, then I was a fierce defender.

"You are perfect the way you are, Mitch." Kennedy smiled warmly and raised her glass.

I winked at her and grinned, knowing she didn't say that just to make me feel better. She had become a great friend and was one of my biggest supporters. Especially after the Louise fiasco.

"Stop flirting with her." Nash gave me a mock punch to the arm.

"Me?" I faked innocence. "I can't help that you're jealous because your fiancé thinks I'm perfect."

Nash rolled his eyes and Kennedy laughed.

"You don't need tattoos," Sammy added and smiled directly at me. "You have those dreamy blue eyes, and those dimples when you smile..."

She liked my dimples, did she? I smiled wider just because I knew that made them pop.

Sammy fake swooned. At least I think it was fake, maybe it wasn't...

"Oh, would you stop," Jackson groaned and ruined the moment.

"Oh Jacks, you jealous?" Sammy giggled. "You have very pretty blue eyes too, you know."

Nash sighed and Kennedy just laughed. Bryce muttered something about dark and mysterious being better.

"Your eyes are an unusual color for how dark your hair is," Sammy continued, as she studied Jackson. She was right. You would expect with Jackson's dark hair and eyebrows that his eyes would be brown, but they were blue, just like Kennedy's. "And those lashes are to die for," she continued.

Jackson's cheeks took on a slight pink shade even though he tried to pretend everything was normal and reached for his beer. Bryce noticed and chuckled.

"See," Sammy waved her hand in the air gesturing from me to Bryce to Jackson. "Mitch got this good guy thing going even though with his size he could be cast in some Viking movie. Bryce has the dark, tall, and dangerous vibe, and Jackson is like James Bond, but more down to earth, and less creepy."

"Wow." Nash looked a bit uncomfortable. "Those are some weird but nice compliments..."

"Oh come on you know you are hot too, Nash," Sammy said and waved him off with a flick of her hand, like he'd been fishing for his own compliment. "But you're taken, so nobody cares anymore."

Nash and Kennedy looked at each other and started to laugh.

"I care," Kennedy said softly as she looked at him with so much love in her eyes it was almost palpable.

Nash leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.

"Ugh, you two are so cute it's nauseating." Sammy did a large eye roll before she picked up her wine glass and drained what was left of her sangria.

"The rest of us are single..." I pointed out, trying to get back to all the good things she had said about Jackson, Bryce, and me.

"Yeah, and we aren't weirdo's either," Bryce added.

"That's debatable," Nash commented with a chuckle.

"Maybe so," Sammy agreed, "but you have the waitresses all flustered over there," she said and tilted her head over to where our waitress was standing at the drink station next to another young waitress, their heads together and facing our way. Our waitress's eyes met mine as I glanced over and her cheeks darkened in embarrassment that I caught her staring.

"Poor girl," Kennedy agreed. "Mitch has her all distracted."

Nash looked amused as he reached for his beer.

"So James Bond, huh?" Jackson asked and nudged Sammy with his arm like he needed the attention to be back on him. "Does that mean I need to order a martini now?"

"Don't forget it has to be shaken, not stirred," I offered in the best British English I could muster.

Sammy's eyes met mine and she laughed.

"Can you be the Bond girl?" Jackson asked, completely ignoring me and not moving his eyes off Sammy.

"No," she responded with an exaggerated eye roll.

Bryce finished what was left of his whiskey and placed the empty glass on the table. "I need another one if I'm gonna keep up with all this," he said and looked around the table. "Anyone else?"

Kennedy shook her head. She still had more than half of her sangria left.

"Are we staying here or going somewhere else?" I asked. This was more of a restaurant and while I didn't mind that, we usually moved over to a bar once we finished dinner because it was easier for Nash to hide at the back of a bar.

"Let's do another round here," Nash suggested. "It's nice without the paparazzi around."

"You realize you just jinxed it, right?" Kennedy snorted and I couldn't help but laugh.

Nash shrugged his shoulders, not seeming too concerned, but then again he was used to the nosy media. We all were, maybe except for Sammy and Jackson, but this place was surprisingly calm. We hadn't been approached once so far.

"I'll have another sangria." Sammy lifted her empty wineglass to show us that it was in fact empty.

"I will switch to a martini," Jackson tried to sound British but he was falling short.

"I think you need to switch to beer or vodka," Bryce said and looked down at my empty sangria glass with a smirk. "That's not very manly," he continued and winked at the girls at the same time as he flexed his biceps again.

"Oh, Bryce," Kennedy giggled.

"Yeah, I guess real Vikings don't drink Sangria," I agreed.

"Eh, who cares? The sangria is good." Sammy said with a smile. "You can have beer any other time."

She made a good point.

"Mitch, get the waitress," Bryce groaned. "She seems to like the Viking version better than the rest of us."

I rolled my eyes as they all laughed but turned towards the drinks station and gestured for our waitress. It was time to get a beer...