#b004

The bar was unusually busy the night he walked through those doors for the first time. Your coworker had called out sick, so you were racing up and down the length of the bar, pouring out beers and mixing drinks. You barely had a second to breathe and you could only hope the tips would be worth the exhaustion you were already feeling. Though you were constantly being hailed back and forth by customers you noticed him slide onto a bar stool in the corner. He hadn’t even signaled for your attention but those blue eyes of his had jumped out and grabbed you the second you spotted them in the dim light. 

You knew who he was despite his effort to mask his identity and you were surprised to find him in a place like this because it wasn’t the typical clubs you’d heard that the Canucks frequent. He appeared to be alone and after you finished making a rum and cola you made your way over to him, leaning against the bar to ask what he was drinking tonight. 

His voice was soft as he requested a beer and after pulling one from under the bar in front of you, you placed it in front of him sending him a soft smile. Other customers quickly demanded your attention. You’d had rude patrons before but tonight it seemed like they had all shown up at once and of course, it was a night that you were a one-woman show. It was hard making everyone happy and despite your best efforts, you were certain a few patrons were going to leave without tipping you as they cursed you out for being too slow to respond to their drunken needs. 

Surrounded by a bunch of drunken idiots you couldn’t help but smile when you’d glance down the bar to him. He never once called you over to him but when you’d meet his gaze and raise an eyebrow he’d occasionally nod and you’d finish whatever task you were doing to grab him another beer, those blue eyes being the only good thing about the night. 

As you closed down the bar at the end of the night you couldn’t help but sigh. Your tips were decent but were nowhere in the realm of where they should be in relation to the number of people and the quantity of alcohol you’d served during your shift. Pulling your hair into a ponytail as you wiped counters down you almost missed the small envelope tucked into the corner of the bar. That hadn’t been there earlier and when you pulled it out you couldn’t help but gasp at the three crisp bills tucked inside along with a scratchy note “Since we both know the jerks around here won’t tip properly. BB.” 

Over the course of the next few months, he came in almost weekly, always alone and tucked himself into the corner of the bar. When it was busy you communicated silently through smiles and those blue eyes of his. When things were quieter, you’d find yourself lingering near him, quiet conversations about things that didn’t really matter. Each time he’d leave a more than generous tip and a scratchy note about how your smile made his day and how this was the highlight of his week. 

When he didn’t come in for almost two weeks you found yourself wondering if something had happened to keep his pretty blue eyes away. As much as he claimed that your smile made his day, his blue eyes did the same for you. Even without saying a word, the silent communication spoke volumes and when you did talk it was like a whole new world opening up. 

It had been three weeks since you’d seen him last and you’d started to give up hope on him ever returning to your little dumpy bar. The last patron had just left and you were about to head to the front door to lock up before you finished closing down for the night when the chimes sounded. Your back was turned and you quickly called out that you were closed as you turned to see who had walked in. The moment your eyes met his you couldn’t help but gasp, a glass slipping from your fingers and shattering on the floor. 

Within two strides he was there, lifting you away from the broken glass and the feeling of his hands on your hips sucked the wind out of you. 

“What are you doing here?” You whispered, staring up at him, broken glass forgotten as his presence was a far more pressing question. “Not that I’m not glad to see you...I’ve been worried. I missed you.” That admission scared you because you barely even knew him but somehow his eyes and his presence were something you looked forward to and a day just wasn’t that great without them. 

“I...I thought if I stopped coming here that maybe what I was feeling would just go away but it didn’t…” His voice was low, his hands still pressed into the skin of your hips as he stood over you. “It’s completely crazy that your smile is what I fall asleep thinking about and that I don’t even know you and you’re the first thing that pops into my head when I wake up.” 

The sound of his voice speaking those words and the way his blue eyes were peering straight into you made you shiver and after a moment you lifted a hand pressing it to lay flat against his chest. “What are you saying Brock?” You questioned, your teeth grazing over the skin of your bottom lip tugging on it gently. 

“I...I don’t really know. But I know you’re the only one I want to see after a rough loss or a big win and I want that smile to be just for me.” After a moment his left hand moved from your waist to brush his thumb over your cheek and you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face at his touch. 

“This smile is all for you Brock...and it will be as long as those damned ocean eyes are just for me.” 

Chuckling he nodded and dipped his head down to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss, your fingers shifting to tangle in his hair. 

After pulling away, Brock helped you clean up and close down the bar before dragging you to a 24/7 diner for milkshakes.