Hooking Nash

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"Hey," Mitchell tried to get my attention. "Do you want a beer, Kennedy?"

"Yeah, sure."

He guided me over to the massive wooden bar that took up more than half the length of the room. The entire wall behind it was made of dark orange brick. Heavy shelves held bottles of alcohol, most of which appeared to be whiskey. The bartender, a young man with spiky black hair and a nose piercing, came over to us right away.

Mitchell placed an order for all of us and it only took a minute before the bartender returned and placed three beers in front of us. I took one and Mitchell picked up the other two and moved us over a small free standing table near the back wall.

"Stop worrying," he chuckled and nudged my side with his arm. "Nash's fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He's good. He knows how to handle it."

"Okay," I pulled my hand nervously through my hair. "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to this." I felt a little bit like a fool, but I couldn't stop worrying about Nash. The media was going absolutely crazy over him after that game and there was a lot of them outside, and he was alone.

"It's fine. He's fine." Mitchell grinned down at me as he reached for his beer. I picked mine up as well and took a long sip. The cold liquid ran down the back of my throat and it was soothing. I took another sip before I put it back down.

"There was nowhere near as much paparazzi when we left last week."

"Did you leave with Nash then?" Mitchell asked and looked down at me.

I shook my head. "No. Sammy and I left with Josh."

Mitchell nodded his blond head. "That's why. Most of the attention is on Nash. It is always the same. The media is waiting for him to discuss the game, or to ask him to clarify one rumor or another." Mitchell rolled his eyes and I had an idea what he was hinting at, not that I liked it, but Nash had always been a ladies' man.

"Oh god, poor Nash" I exclaimed without thinking. I felt bad that he had to deal with people being after him and all wrapped up in his business all the time, so I didn't consider that he had done this for years and was probably used to it.

Mitchell laughed aloud, a burly laugh that I hadn't heard in a while. The sound was both uplifting and comforting.

"Here," Mitchell said and held my beer out to me. "I think you need it." He winked teasingly at me.

"I guess..."

"Cheers, Kennedy," he grinned. "I am really glad you are back in his life."

I took the beer from him and took a long drink. I was contemplating what he meant by his statement when Nash appeared next to me. Mitchell handed him a beer like nothing had happened and without a word. Although I am pretty sure that some kind of non-verbal exchange took place between the two tall guys above my head.

"Are you alright?" Nash asked and focused his gorgeous green eyes on mine.

I laughed nervously. "Me? yeah, I'm fine. Are you?"

"Yeah, Kennedy," he responded, suddenly serious. "I'm fine. Dealing with the media is part of the job."

He clinked his beer to mine and took a long sip. I noticed that Mitchell left us and headed over to the other players that were seated further down the bar.

"Is it always like that for you?" I asked Nash.

"Not always, but most of the time."

"Wow." I sighed and leaned my head back. "I know you are famous and all, but to deal with that all the time... how do you do it?"