“How do you know?” Mario asks with enough bite in his tone that it makes me chuckle.

She wraps her arm through his all reassuring like. “I overheard the other bartenders talking about how he left them short-staffed right before March Madness. They’re expecting the turnout to be big with everyone following the basketball team this year.”

The five of us settle into a table near the bar. Z opted out like he typically does, and Nathan played it off like he wanted to rest up for tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure he just didn’t have the funds to cover dining out.

The Hideout is packed and it’s still early. Too early for the Saturday night drinking crowd. We’ve got an away game tomorrow, so it’ll have to be an early night for us. While we wait for someone to take our order, I look around the place weighing my options. Being the fifth wheel sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t envy Wes or Mario, but they’re shit for company when their girls are here.

I wonder what Katrina is doing tonight. Did she make it home alright? What does she do on a typical Saturday night? I’m annoyed that I’m still thinking about her. Any ideas I had about fucking her out of my system are gone. I kissed her senseless last night and all I can think about is doing it again. This girl has my curiosity begging to be satisfied. My dick too.

“Yo, Blair, can I borrow your phone for a minute?”

She’s distracted by Wes, who has a hand so high up on her thigh I wonder if maybe they should just skip dinner and go bang. Godspeed and all. But it works in my favor that she’s here and distracted because she unlocks the screen and pushes it toward me without a thought.

I scroll through her contacts, holding my breath until I see her name. Katrina Philipps. Jackpot. I transfer her number to my phone and then stand.

“Be right back,” I announce and head toward the hallway that leads to the restrooms.

I tap out a bunch of different texts, over thinking it and finally saying screw it.

Me: Plans tonight? I want to kiss you again.

I pace, watching my phone for a reply that comes only a few minutes later.

Kitty: Who is this?

Me: How many people did you kiss last night?

Kitty: Depends on who is asking.

Me: The guy who kissed you the best.

Kitty: How did you get this number Joel Moreno?

When most people say my full name, it comes with expectations, intrigue, and guarantees that I’m about to get laid. With Katrina, however, it seems to be a barrier between us. What do I have to do to get her to see me as just Joel?

Me: Tell you what. Meet me at my place in fifteen minutes and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.

Kitty: Shouldn’t you be resting before the game tomorrow?