Relationship status: In Love with my Career

I had practically given up on nurse Andy after a few weeks of no contact. I'm not sure what I expected, really. A midnight text saying she missed me and wanted to meet up? Unlikely. A thank you for the coffee? It would have been polite (if she'd even gotten the coffee I left with her grouchy roommate). A 'congrats on your goal' text after a game? Sure, that would have been great, however that wold have required me to have actually scored a goal, or even played.
December was not my month. But I'm young, so I can't let one off month get me down. Just like I shouldn't let one girl I'd met twice get into my head this much. She probably lost the scrap of paper I'd written my number on.
I had of course tried to find another girl as interesting and mystifying as nurse Andy, but they were all so flat and fake and exactly the same as the last girl.
An empty glass of whisky slammed down on the bar next to me. "Can I get another? And one for him too," she said to the bartender and gestured toward me before turning to face me. "Hey there big country," she smiled a teasing smile that couldn't reach her eyes.
I stared in shock as the elusive nurse Andy tilted her head toward the quieter side of the bar with some tables and even less lighting. "Want to go sit somewhere we can actually talk?"
I swallowed hard and finished my drink before grabbing the whisky she'd ordered for me (I'm going to need it). She snaked between dancing couples until the crowd thinned out, and soon it was just us and a corner table .
"So, uh, how have you been?" I wasn't sure where to start. She ignored my question and got right to the point. "Thank you for helping me out the other night. I was not in a good place and definitely had an unnecessary amount to drink." I could tell it was difficult for her to say this so I just nodded and let her talk. "I could have ended up with someone not as nice, who maybe would have taken advantage of my inebriated state. I guess you're not as much of a fuck boy as I thought," she added with a slight smile.
"Hey, fuck boy does not mean sleeping with girls too drunk to say no," I jokingly defended, "not that I'm admitting I'm a fuck boy..." Stop talking Jake, you're not making this any better. I took a sip of the whisky and it burned my throat. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" She asked.
"About what was bothering you that night. You don't seem like the kind of girl to get wasted on a weekday night," I responded.
"You don't know me," she started defensively. "I'm sorry," she apologized instantly, "That was not called for. Not now, not yet, maybe if I had more-" I could tell she was going to say 'more to drink' so I interrupted her, because I knew she did not need more to drink, or we'd end up in the same situation we were in last time I saw her.
"-More time?" I finished her sentence for her and she looked up at me a moment before nodding.
"Right, some more time. Besides, I barely even know you," She added.
"We can change that," I smiled hopefully, though I knew what her response would probably be.
"You're like a puppy, you know that? You just keep smiling and wagging your tail," she smiled and I could almost see it reach her eyes this time, so I took it one step further. I was determined to make her laugh, since she looked like she hadn't laughed in about five years.
"My tail?" I asked with a suggestive smile. She smiled and rolled her eyes, but didn't quite laugh.
"See? Fuck boy..." she added, but not accusingly.
"Did you get the coffee I left for you?" I asked. "If I was a fuck boy I wouldn't have bought coffee for a girl I didn't even sleep with."
"I did," she smiled slightly. "Thank you."
"And my number? I left it with you that night in case you needed anything."
"What? I don't know what you're talking about," she joked, and I knew she'd at least seen it. "I certainly did not keep that, and absolutely didn't add it to my contacts." She looked away and I think nurse Andy might have actually been a little embarrassed.
"Can I at least have your number?" I asked and she shook her head. "Come on, you have my number." I knew she was lying.
"No, I told you I don't have it," she responded in a teasing tone that said she definitely did have it.
"Yes you do," I continued. "You probably have it saved as 'Than fuck boy from the bar' or something."
She smiled, and instead of rolling her eyes like she did last time, she laughed! "There it is! Mission accomplished; I knew you'd have a pretty laugh." I smiled at her as she gave me a confused look and asked, "What?"
"It was my goal to make you laugh tonight. You looked like you need a laugh," I explained with a shrug. She watched me thoughtfully for a moment before checking the time on her phone.
"If I didn't have class tomorrow I would love to stay out longer, so you can maybe try to make me laugh again. But...since I do, maybe I'll see you at a game or something." She looked back at her drink, now empty, and avoided eye contact like this was hard for her. Instead of ruining this with sarcastic remark about there being thousands of people at a game and it being hard to pick someone out of a crowd like that, I said I'd keep an eye out for her at the next game.
The next home game happens to be tomorrow night. Will I see her? I don't know. It actually is hard to find one person in a crowd that big. I guess if she sat really close to the ice I might notice her, but I'm kinda there to play hockey, not look for girls in the stands....

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