“They serve you beer here? You have an ID?”
“Something like that,” Rusty said with a smirk.
Before I could ask him anything else, a waitress dressed in tight jeans and an even tighter tank top slid up to the table. Her name tag said SHANA. “Hey, stranger,” she drawled at Rusty. “Where you been?” She looked like she was about to sit in his lap. And I bet he would’ve liked it too. She was just the way he probably liked a girl to look: long dark hair, heavy-lined eyes, shiny lips, and boobs about to burst right out of her top. I decided I didn’t like her.
“Went back home for a little while,” Rusty said, clearing his throat.
Shana looked pained all of a sudden. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. J.D. mentioned something about that. We were all awfully sorry to hear about your friend. That was the same guy who came up here with you on a trip to check out the team a few years back, right?”
“Shana, this is Honor,” Rusty interrupted. “His sister.”
“Oh,” she said, turning to me. “I’m so sorry. About your brother. It must be really hard for you.”
I just nodded, hoping she’d get the drift that it wasn’t something I wanted to talk about at the moment. Half of me felt guilty for the thought, but the other half just wanted a little stretch of time where it didn’t weigh so heavy on me.
Shana spoke up. “My fiancé was the captain who took him all around, so I met him when he was up here. Good guy.”
Fiancé. I nodded again. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.
“Kinda like Rusty here.” She patted him firmly on the shoulder.
He raised his eyebrows and opened up his menu. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“I definitely wouldn’t,” I added, relieved for a change in subject.
“Oh, then you haven’t seen this boy dance.” Shana smiled. “Not many players are as good on the dance floor as they are on the field. Believe me, I’ve dated my fair share of ’em.” She said this behind her hand, like she was telling me a secret. Rusty nodded agreement from behind his menu. “But Rusty here,” Shana continued, “can make anyone look good on the dance floor.” I watched him smile behind his menu and tried to picture it. “You guys should stay for Wade Bowen tonight,” she offered. “Then you can see for yourself.”
I was liking this girl more and more. “That sounds good, thank you.” I kicked Rusty under the table. “We’re stayin’, right?”
“Fine with me.” He closed his menu and smiled up at Shana. “I’ll take one of those western burgers and a Bud, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s not at all,” she said without writing it down. “What about you, Honor? What can I getcha?”
“I’ll take the same,” I said, more joking than anything.
“Sure thing. I’ll put those in right now and be back with your beers.” Shana winked and turned on the heel of her boot.
When she was gone, Rusty raised an eyebrow at me from across the table. “Gutsy.”
“What?” I asked like it was nothing. “You ordered one no problem.” I tried not to smile but couldn’t contain the pride I felt at having just ordered a beer. In a restaurant. From a waitress.
“That’s right. I forgot,” Rusty said with a slow smile. “You’re all grown up these days.”
Shana returned with two frosty beer bottles and set them on the table in front of us. “Burgers’ll be up in a few. You guys need anything else?”
“Actually, I think we do.” Rusty sat back against the booth and looked up at her with the kind of smile that could probably make most girls say yes to anything. “We were thinkin’ we might need a couple of shots to go along with these.”
Shana tilted her head at him like the answer was no. “What about Hell Week? You guys aren’t supposed to be drinkin’ heavy right now.”
“It’s to toast to her brother.” He motioned at me, then looked back up at her, very serious. It was shameless, but something Finn probably would have appreciated. “C’mon. For Honor.”
Shana glanced at me, mulling it over before she turned back to Rusty. “Fine. Just don’t tell coach it was me that knocked you off the wagon. And keep it low key. I can’t afford to get in trouble over you, okay?”
We both nodded.
“What do you want, then?”
Rusty gave the question over to me. “Honor? What’re we drinkin’?”
Another one of his dares. I should’ve never, ever said anything about being all grown up. It was the exact type of thing he wouldn’t let me live down. Fine then. I pretended to think about it, like I actually knew something about what I might like to drink. “Hmm . . .”
Rusty watched me, entertained, and Shana waited.
“Tequila,” I said finally, with conviction. No matter that I’d never actually drunk tequila. It was the first booze that popped into my head, mostly because I’d heard enough songs to know it was something people took shots of.
Shana arched an eyebrow at Rusty, and he shrugged. “The girl means business. Make it two. And a couple more Buds to go with.”
“Oh good lord,” Shana said, shaking her head. “I can already see what kind of night this one’s gonna be. I’ll be right back.”
She turned again and headed for the bar, and I watched the cowboys watch her hips sway as she walked by. Then something she’d said came back to me. “You’re s’posed to be in Hell Week right now?” Rusty rubbed his forehead but didn’t answer. “Are you?”