Downtown (auston matthews x oc)

-four-

𝖠𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇

"Nora Mallone," Auston echoed the name.

It earned him a bothered, "Yup," from her.

He understood her anger: she probably hated dealing with celebrities on a daily basis—Auston knew most of them were probably grade-A assholes. Hell, he probably was, too, sometimes. Including after last year's playoff series against Ottawa.

"Is it all because of the broken table?" he asked, leaning a little further over the bar.

"Is what because of the broken table?" Nora shot back, cheeks rosy.

"Is that why you hate me so much?" Auston pressed, fighting back a little smile.

Nora rolled her eyes. Auston liked the way she tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, a little flustered. The lights were always dimmed at the Castle, but now Auston could see her under the real lights—and he had trouble looking away from her.

After a few seconds, Nora found her voice. "I don't hate any customers," she promised, though Auston didn't miss her pointed cadence.

"Fine," he conceded. "But it's why you're looking at me like that right now."

He saw Nora tense and roll her shoulders back. "I'm not looking at you like anything," she snapped, which made Auston grin.

"All right," he offered. "So I take it there's nothing I can do to make it up to you?" He raised his eyebrows at her. While he didn't necessarily intend for Nora to perceive any innuendo from the words, he knew how it sounded.

"Gross," Nora scoffed as she rolled her eyes again. She wore the cutest little pout as she glared over at him, and the heat behind her gaze sent a rush through Auston's chest and straight to his dick.

All right, keep it together, he snapped at himself.

To his surprise, Nora suggested, "You can buy me a drink."

Auston, caught off-guard, found himself stammering for a response. "Like—right now?"

Nora wasn't shaken in the slightest. She rested her hands on her hips and nodded at Auston like he was an idiot. "Yes, like now," she snapped. He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out the credit card he'd only just returned to its place. As he passed it over the counter to her, Nora asked, "You want something?"

Auston checked his watch: he was going to dinner with Justin and some of the guys, but he otherwise had no where else to be. "Yeah, that would be great," he hurried, stuttering still.

Nora glanced up at him as she retrieved a metal shaker from the cabinet beneath the bar. "What do you want?" she pressed.

His eyes followed her as she made herself a drink, and he was nearly so distracted that he forgot she had asked him anything at all. Finally he replied, "Dealer's choice."

It made Nora smirk, which woke Auston's dick again. He sat down in one of the stools, adjusting himself beneath the counter when Nora turned to grab one of the liquors behind her. From where he sat, Auston couldn't see exactly what she was doing, though when she returned to her place in front of Auston, she poured a lime-green mix from the shaker into a waiting glass.

Auston lifted it up and held it in front of his eyes, examining. "This," he began with a little chuckle, "looks radioactive."

Nora picked up her own drink from the counter, which was red like cranberry juice and looked decidedly more normal than the drink she'd prepared for Auston. She drew a long sip, and Auston found himself folding when his gaze fell to her lips, wrapped around the edge of her glass.

"You said dealer's choice," Nora reminded him with a shrug.

Auston, never one to shy away from a challenge—especially not when it involved alcohol—ventured a taste.

It burned all the way down his throat, and Auston was almost certain it sparked an actual fire inside his chest. "Jesus Christ," he exclaimed, coughing. "Is that poison?"

Nora smiled as he set the drink back down on the counter. In one swift motion, she picked it up, replacing it with the one she had prepared for herself, and then threw back the rest of Auston's without so much as a grimace.

It was, quite possibly, the hottest thing Auston had ever seen. His jaw fell open a little, but Nora offered no reaction. Instead, she swiped Auston's card through the register, humming idly, and then spun the screen around for his signature.

A forty dollar tab—he should've seen that one coming.

With a laugh, he signed for it and tapped the counter with his fingers in defeat. He took a long drink of the cocktail Nora had left in front of him.

A dirty fucking shirley.