chapter forty-four

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I push away from the bar rail as I juggle the three bottles of beer between my fingers and my palm, shuffling past a few people as they try to grab the attention of the only two bartenders manning the bar

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I push away from the bar rail as I juggle the three bottles of beer between my fingers and my palm, shuffling past a few people as they try to grab the attention of the only two bartenders manning the bar. When Dean suggested grabbing a quick drink before we headed to the airport, I didn't think they would pick such a busy spot.

Located in the heart of the city, the bar is bustling with people, many of whom appear to be students as they catch up with friends, some dressed as if they just got off from work.

I sidestep a couple talking in the middle of the floor, dodging more that are laughing as I finally spot Dean, my supervisor and his husband—who also happens to be another physical therapist I work with—sitting in a booth. I had left them to grab drinks while they tried to find a spot to sit. I'm genuinely surprised they both found a space, considering there isn't much room to stand around.

I let out a sigh followed by a short gasping chuckle as I place the drinks in the middle of the table and slide into the booth opposite them.

Unlike Dean, his husband, Dr. Austin—or Billy, as he often corrects me—has dark afro hair that pairs well with his face's dark, sharp contours. He's also significantly taller than Dean, with broad shoulders and a muscular build.

"Is it always busy here?" I glance around the bar again as I yell over the raging music. The bar, named Pub on Charles, is adequately named as it's, in fact, just that, a pub on Charles Street. Though there are many on this street like it, it seems that something about this place sets it apart from the others.

The maple-coloured hardwood floors, the circular centre bar, the pool tables in the back, and the mini karaoke stage remind me of Vice, the student bar I often visited back in Cardill. It almost feels like home despite it being my first time here.

"Yeah, usually. It's super cheap, but it's also good beer. You can get an all-day domestic pitcher for $10," Dean explains, reaching for his bottle, his silver ring gleaning on his left hand.

My brows lift at the price as I also grab a bottle and raise it to my lips, tasting the bitterness of beer but also the subtle spicy notes of coriander. I'm not always the biggest fan of beer, but I wouldn't mind drinking this.

I hum as I lick my lips and place the bottle back on the wooden table between us.

"So, Bailey," Billy leans forward, his dark eyes quickly glancing at the watch on his wrist before they lift to meet mine and crease with amusement, "How do you like working at the facility so far?"

"And forget for a second that I'm your direct supervisor," Dean chimes.

We share a soft chuckle as I fold my lips into my mouth. "It's been great, such an amazing learning opportunity. It's hard to believe that for my first time interning with an NFL team, I get so much hands-on experience," I rave.

It has truly been fantastic working for the Wolves. Unlike my previous internship with Elijah, I've actually come to enjoy working with Dean and occasionally Billy. The way they can be completely professional, teaching me what I need to know and allowing me to take over once in a while, is something I hadn't expected until my residency.

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