Hats

"Thank you!" Jane breathed, looking back.

"You're welcome."  His dad had talked so much about holding the door Tim could have gotten a doorman over at those new lofts on Seventh.  Picturing himself in one of those red hats, he grinned.

"What's so funny?" she whispered as his eyes searched the rows of wooden booths, making sure there were still seats with optimal viewing available.

"Nothing," he answered.  Doorman hats probably weren't her style.

"You never tell me what you're thinking," she pouted, pulling off her coat to reveal a faded Ohio State t-shirt. 

Confused, he tried to think of what he said to make her mad as the hostess began to place their menus on a table.

He gestured to the largest screen, "Hey, can we grab something closer?" 

The hostess shrugged, nodded. 

"Thanks. And a couple of beers.  Beer's ok, right?" Tim smiled at Jane, suddenly remembering he'd said something wrong.  Something about the door?

"Actually, I want to see the drink menu," Jane said, sliding into her chair. 

"Big game today," Tim said, checking to make sure he could see at least two of the games starting in thirty minutes.

Silence.

Giving her time to read through the menu, he leaned back and followed the closed captioning on the pre-game show looming large about her head.  That loser should've been fired years ago, pulling that stupid mascot head from behind the desk, knowing exactly the reaction he was going to get.

She sighed

"Don't they have good drinks?" he asked, glancing at the menu.

"I thought you wanted to hang out," she said, not meeting his eyes, which he knew meant a long conversation if he didn't do something fast.

"I do." 

And he had when he'd invited her to watch the game and have a few beers.

"Really?" Her voice got higher.  Was that better?  "Oh good!"

His beer came, and Jane ordered one of her own.

"I'm glad you think this is going somewhere," she said, whispering again.

He might have nodded as he took a drink, glad to see the loser had the common sense to pull Brutus's Buckeye Head over his grey hair. 

Brutus was better than a doorman's hat.  He grinned and saw hers spread across her face, reminding him of why he'd asked her out. 

Plus she looked hotter than most twenty year olds in that t-shirt.

the prompt:

no subject restrictions

use a writing "tool" you think you need to polish

I tried working a little more with dialogue and the male POV.