I headed up to the bar with mixture of determination and anger fueling my pace. Lucy spotted me from the corner of her eye, but she continued talking to Beanbag in hushed tones. Every so often, she’d glance at me and then look away. Not at all subtle. I tried to read her lips, but couldn’t make out what she said with her glass of wine nearly glued to her mouth like she was practicing for Santi’s whistle. Giving myself a onceover, I made sure my ass wasn’t hanging out of my pants and my boobs weren’t on display. It was incredible. I’d known Lucy for less than twenty-four hours, and she was able to make me feel insecure about myself.
Santi was behind the counter, tightening the lid on a bottle of cheap vodka. He looked up at me with the same coy grin I recalled. “I remember you. You were the one here with Lucy last night. How are—”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Enough small talk,” I replied. “I’ll take a shot of Jim Beam.”
He wiped the oak bar top in a circular motion with a white towel. “We’re all out.”
“Of course, you are.” I smirked. Could this day get any better? “How the hell does a bar run out of JB?”
“The party in the banquet room has sucked us dry tonight. They’re like fish back there. Another shipment doesn’t arrive until tomorrow,” he said.
“Cloud Nine then,” I replied.
“Sorry, beautiful. All out of that too. I’ve got Bulls Eye, French Kiss, and,” he glanced at the shelves behind him, “Alejandro’s.”
I scrunched my nose. “No, thanks. I’m picky. How about an Orgasm instead, please?”
“Just one?” a nearby voice startled me. “I’m willing to bet I can bring you to a double or a triple, no problem.”
I turned around and saw Zack sitting next to me, serious gray eyes observing my face, softened only by the curve of his flirtatious smile. A deep dimple appeared on each of his cheeks. That night, he wore a white linen button-up shirt and khaki pants.
I did nothing more than sigh to convey my mood.
“So, what’s new, Trixie? I mean Blue.” He took careful measure in squeezing the oversized lime slice into his gin and tonic while shielding me from being squirted.
“Not tonight.” I downed my drink, not bothering to taste it before I turned my attention back toward the bartender. “Another please, Santi.”
“Bad day?” Zack asked. “I mean, I already know how your morning went. Hopefully, you were able to get some relaxation downtown before coming to The Fill & Spill tonight.”
I pursed my lips before I downed the second shooter with a grimace and full-body shudder.
“Slow down there, sunshine.” He laughed as he grabbed for my miniature glass. “I’m all for feeling good, but we don’t want you passed out on your face in a matter of minutes. Let the last one take hold before you dive into the next. When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday, I think,” I replied. “I can’t remember.”
“Santi, order up this girl a grilled cheese and fries.” Zack’s attention turned back toward me again. “You’ll thank me later. I can feel it.”
“Yeah, well I have mixed drinks about feelings.” I sighed. “Let’s just say I’m ready to leave and go back to Sacramento. Tonight.”
“That must’ve been one hell of a day. Do you want to talk about it? I’ll keep you company.”
Warning sirens went off in my head loudly. I fumbled for an excuse, my mind already reeling from the alcohol. Zack being in the same room screamed danger to me, and him being on the next barstool over made it even worse. Don’t get me wrong. He was good looking. Scratch that. Most women wouldn’t have turned down his advances to clink glasses and shake asses. But I knew his type, and I had zero interest in a hump and dump. Cash was a big enough mistake, and I wasn’t looking for history to repeat itself.
“I…I can’t. My friends are over there.” I pointed in the direction of Daveigh’s table. Calling them “friends” seemed like a long shot, and I didn’t know if I’d be accepted if I walked back to where they sat. I’d shunned Beanbag, yelled at Lucy, and nearly stalked my sister in the bathroom. That whole “do unto others” thing was out the window. But they were the only viable escape I could conjure with two shots medicating my body on an empty belly.
“Tell you what. I’ll join you over there for a few minutes,” he nodded across the room, “but you should know I’m waiting for someone.”
Someone! I felt a sense of relief. Yes! At least Zack had a date, so it’d keep him from trying to crawl into my pants. That alone made me feel a little bit better about having him around. I was reminded of the leggy blonde from Saturday night and assumed she’d walk through the door at any moment for her own turn at the bedroom rodeo with him. All that mattered was I wouldn’t be drinking alone to become the latest Steele Falls gossip story.
Santi handed me my third shot and I stood up too fast, swaying as if I were on a boat in rocky waters. I took a moment to right my equilibrium with one hand braced on the edge of the bar. It wasn’t enough to deter me though. I was on a mission. “Keep ‘em coming, bartender.”
I walked across the room with the glass in my hand, knowing I’d zigzagged horribly through the impossibly close tables. Trying to fake my sobriety was a fail. My feet somehow crossed and I stumbled, Zack catching me by the arm.
He reached for the shot in my hand that I’d barely salvaged, intense eyes surveying me. “You sure you want to keep up that pace?”
The temperature in the room skyrocketed as my pulse raced. “I know what I’m doing,” I said, wrenching my arm away from him. “See? I didn’t spill a drop. Call it drinking responsibly.”
Zack opened his mouth to say something and then stopped himself.
Maybe it was the look on my face. Maybe it was the fact he didn’t know how far he could push me. Maybe it was because we barely knew each other. Whatever the reason, he knew it was a line he shouldn’t cross.
Drinking anyone else under the table wasn’t my specialty, and it wasn’t my intended goal that night. I was the classic definition of a lightweight. Alcohol always hit me hard and fast, especially shots. The perfect cheap date as Cash used to call me. You’d think I’d have been smarter considering I was still pissed off, but that night emotion trumped intelligence. And that meant drinking more of the big-O’s was the clear winner. I stared at the seating arrangement. Daveigh was back. Zack was in tow. The group dynamic had altered drastically.
“Well, well, well,” Lucy said with a sly grin as she arched an eyebrow. “Who do we have here?”
Zack set his drink down on the table. “Hey, Lucy. Care if we join you?”
“Not at all, Mr. Main.” She winked. “What are you two up to tonight?”
I forced a smile and a nervous chuckle. Maybe the group setting wasn’t such a good idea after all. “You know, stopped by for a drink before I go home…alone.”
“Uh huh,” Lucy replied with a knowing look as her eyes flicked toward Zack. “The best way is by whetting your whistle first, right?”
I didn’t bother acknowledging her response verbally. The glower on my face should’ve been enough for her.
Zack pulled a chair out for me to sit down and followed suit as he straddled the seat next to me. My posture went rigid when I felt his left hand at the small of my back, warm fingertips stroking the two-inch gap of exposed skin between my shirt and the waist of my jeans.
“Wesley,” Beanbag said, extending his hand to shake Zack’s. “I’ve seen pictures of the houses you’ve redone across town. Some pretty epic shit.”
“Thanks. With the risk of sounding like a conceited asshole, I think it’s some pretty epic shit myself.” Zack laughed.
“We’ve already met,” Daveigh said. “At your Halloween party, last year.”
“That’s right!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “You wore that provocative little she-devil number. And, if I remember, that guy you brought was dressed up like a ridiculous mall cop. Man, that getup he had on was over the top. If I’d have held a costume contest, he’d have won. No doubt.”
“His wasn’t a costume.” Her face reddened as she fiddled with a lock of hair and looked down at the floor. “Gene came to the party straight from work.”
The table tanked to silence.
“Okay then.” Zack picked up on the discomfort and puffed out his cheeks. “My bad. Regardless, my condolences about your father.”
“Thanks.” She nursed her beer as Beanbag gave her a compassionate glance.
Santi swung by with a fresh round of drinks as he did a lap around our table. I’d finished my third shot and was ready to take on the fourth when the door to the bar opened. A couple stumbled inside, completely engrossed in their own laughter and hand-holding. They headed toward a pool table where three more people were motioning them over. A third person caught the door before it clicked shut and slipped inside. Suddenly, I felt like I needed a fifth and sixth shot. Maybe even a dozen after that.
The rest of the world went silent as I focused on the man who’d entered The Fill & Spill. He took off his rain-covered leather jacket and gave it a shake, droplets of water falling to the mat at the door. Zack whispered something to me, his lips tickling my earlobe. None of it registered with my brain though. Not a damn word. My heart was too busy cowering behind my spine while I watched Adam Rockwell.
He looked around the room and saw Zack, offering him a single nod. Then his expression darkened when he saw me—a day and night difference. At that moment, I realized the person Zack waited for wasn’t Ms. Endless Legs, after all. It was his buddy. How could I have not put that together as a possible scenario? Stupid, Blue!
Adam scanned the rest of the customers in the room and headed toward Santi up at the bar, a beer already waiting on the counter for him as he gave the bartender his order. It was a no brainer. He was trying to avoid me.
Zack stood up and gestured toward his friend. “Hey, Rockwell! Over here!”
Adam cringed as he glanced our way before looking around for a quick getaway. Reluctantly, he headed our direction with a drink in his hand. His gaze stumbled, lingering on me longer than anyone else’s. “Hey, Zack. I came to…tell you I can’t stay.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about? You just got here, and you’re holding a beer. We agreed to meet when you got off work.”
“Yeah, well plans change,” Adam replied. “I’m downing this before she,” his eyes flicked toward where I sat, “has a chance to commit a second round of alcohol abuse against me, and then I’m heading home.”
Zack lowered his voice. “You specifically said you needed a drink when you called me this afternoon. Figured something major went down at work today. Is everything all right?”
“It’s…great. Couldn’t be better.” His voice cracked. “Had some unexpected news fall onto my lap. That’s all.”
“If it’s your boss who’s being a tool, fuck him. I told you I’ve got a position open when you’re ready to make the move over to Main Enterprises,” Zack said.
Adam let out a slow breath. “Look, I really don’t need to bore anyone else with this. I’ll figure it out on my own.”
“The offer stands. I’ll make it work,” Zack pressed. “If it’s the money, I’m positive I can meet or beat—”
“I know and thanks.” He looked at his watch. “I should head out.”
“See? He has to leave.” Daveigh’s tone was laced with fake sadness. “Too bad. Maybe he can join us another time.” She blinked rapidly and flashed him a forced smile.
Santi came by and growled seductively at Lucy before he fixated on me. “Do you want another Orgasm?”
Zack narrowed his eyes at the bartender. “Back off.”
“Better make the next one a double,” I replied quietly as I slunk down in my chair, wanting the unwanted level of testosterone in the room to nosedive. “Maybe a triple.”
“You got it. I’ll be remembered for giving you the biggest Orgasm you’ve ever had. Trust me, you won’t know what hit you,” Santi replied as he wove his way through the tables and back up to the bar.
Zack’s hand worked its way around my back a few inches and I squirmed. When his fingertips greeted my ribcage, I jumped up and practically knocked my chair over. “I’ve got to pee,” I squeaked. “Right now. I’ll be back.”
The bathroom was empty when I hurried inside. The music dwindled to a hushed whisper as the door shut behind me. Beautiful, pristine silence. I braced either side of the sink, my palms greeting the chipped porcelain. My reflection displayed an exhausted girl when I looked up. Dark waves of hair hung down to my shoulders, the tangled mess in disarray. Faded eyeliner had started to smear under my eyes, and I knew I’d look like a raccoon if I stuck around much longer. I, Blue Brennan, was a hot mess. It left me questioning why Zack’s flirting was so over the top while I ran a paper towel under cold water and pressed it to the back of my neck. The alcohol and the uncomfortable situation were both competing for my attention. I was no longer sure which was in the lead.
A few minutes later, I staggered back to the table and plopped down. It was a weird combination of personalities between Daveigh, Beanbag, Lucy, Zack, and myself. But with Adam unexpectedly added to the mix? I didn’t know what to think. Like a magnet, Zack’s hand was affixed to my body again. Everything was too much, all at once.
“I need to leave,” Adam and I spoke in unison as we both put our hands on the table and went to stand up. We locked eyes and froze. Thinking back, I’m not sure whether either of us were breathing anymore.
Zack grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Don’t go.” His attention turned to Adam and his tone firmed. “Sit down. We all know you have nothing better to do tonight but sulk about whatever bullshit happened at work. Have a few more drinks and forget about it.” Zack clamped his palm down on Adam’s shoulder until he sunk back onto the seat of his chair. “I’m sure your problem isn’t going anywhere.”
“You can say that again,” Adam mumbled as he leaned back into his seat. “I guess I’m having another beer, Santi.”
“See? You can deal with it tomorrow.” Zack scooted his chair closer to me. “Now, chill. Maybe eat something. The special tonight is spaghetti.”
Adam grimaced. “No, thanks. I can’t stand Italian food.”
“Hold on.” I looked up at a flat screen television screen over the bar. The volume was off with only a series of subtitles to describe what was being said. But I didn’t need sound to explain what I saw. Ornate marble pillars. Offensive lighting. Gorilla Gloria pretending to be studious behind the front desk. A news story panned the exterior of Jensen & Jensen and then the shot flipped to a side-by-side interview with Cash and Price. “Fuck me sideways,” I muttered. Where was Santi with the promise of an earthshattering Orgasm when I needed it?
Lucy kicked me in the shin under the table. “Blue, isn’t that where you work?”
“Worked.” I grabbed Zack’s drink and downed what was left in two massive gulps. “Past tense.” I grimaced. “Ugh. How can you drink that shit? It tastes like I licked a Christmas tree.”
The scrolling words on the screen conveyed they were being presented by one of the TV channels with an award for best plastic surgery suite in Sacramento. Price did most of the talking while Cash sat there, mostly smiling and nodding as he rode on Price’s coattails.
“You didn’t mention you don’t work there anymore when we were talking last night,” Lucy replied. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” I knew if I didn’t rein it in, the alcohol would start talking on my behalf. And drunk Blue didn’t know when to shut up. Remaining vague was key. Play it cool. “It didn’t pan out. There were conflicts of interest with my boss.”
“Who is he?” she asked. “One of those two?”
“Both. My direct was the one on the left.” I nodded toward the screen as Santi slid another drink in front of me along with a grease-soaked sandwich and a large pile of overcooked French fries. The glass he’d presented me was far bigger than a shot glass. It was a snifter. “Cash Montgomery Jensen.”
“That hottie was your boss? Aww, honey. I’d let him nip and tuck me anytime,” Lucy moaned a sigh of approval. “Are you two on good terms? Maybe you can slip him my digits?”
“Have at it. He’s nothing to write home about in the romance department. Believe me,” I said under my breath, my speech starting to slur. I was too drunk to realize I’d taken it one step too far. “Damn. Where’s Santi? I need another orgamasm…orgasmasm…another drink.” Why is that one word so difficult to say?
“Sweetie, Santi already brought you one.” Lucy slid the massive glass toward me a few inches. “Did you say you dated that guy?” She pointed to the screen. “Spill! Details!”
“He was my boss, Lucy. It’s complicated.” I closed one eye deep in thought before downing more of the drink than I should have. “Was complicated? That company wasn’t good for me anymore.”
Lucy flapped her hands frantically like a bird who was about to be fed a big, juicy worm. “Oh! Hold! Up! Is he the one who you know…made you all uptight in the pants and shit?”
“Sleep your way to the top often?” Adam offered his first tidbit toward the conversation, taking a slow drink from his beer. “Seems admirable.”
“I don’t know. Are you,” I pointed at him and garbled, “always this ass of a much-hole? This much of an asshole?”
“Maybe I am. Guess you wouldn’t know since you don’t live in town,” he replied, kicking his feet up on top of the table, crossing them at the ankles.
I carefully spoke. “Well, I’m surprised they even let you in here after you destroyed that window last night. Isn’t that considered destruction of property? You could really, really, really use some anger management classes.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I settled up with the owner this morning. We work together. And none of that is interesting to anyone at the table, unlike you sleeping with pretty boy up there on the screen.”
I rubbed my face, tired of being under the spotlight. “Okay! Enough about my dating life.”
Lucy looked disappointed. “But—”
I cut her off, the snifter halfway to my mouth. “I said enough.”
Everyone at the table fell silent.
“Anyone else want to open up about their baggage? Beanbag? Daveigh? Got anything you want to confess?” My sentences were a giant smear. With the way they’d acted in public, it was safe to say their relationship was still a secret.
Both of them were quiet as they looked away.
“Lucy? Zack? Wanna talk about the last time you two had sex together? Lucy, you had some pretty specific opinions about the experience. Care to share?”
“I…I,” Lucy stuttered.
“You do, Luc?” Zack asked before his attention turned back toward me. “I mean, what’s going on, Blue? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “More than fine, actually. Why’s everyone got a problem with me being shithammered? Hammerfaced? Whatever.” I turned my attention toward Adam and tried to stop the world from swaying. “Why don’t you tell us about your girlfriend? I mean, an angsty, brooding guy like you has to be a big catch around here.” I balled my fists, my expression cold.
It was a low blow I’d likely regret later, and alcohol remained my liquid courage. But I was desperate to spin the tables and take the focus off myself. Adam happened to be next in the line of fire. Remembering that Lucy said his past was pained, made taking the dig a little easier. Hell, it made it a lot easier.
“I’m not seeing anyone, and I doubt anyone wants to hear about my exes.” Adam sat up and placed his feet back on the floor. “My love life’s a snore-fest.”
“Oh, come on. I’ll bet there are great stories in there somewhere,” I egged him on.
As if it were perfectly choreographed, the music lulled, and I swear, he growled at me.
“All right. Since you’re so eager to know.” He drank the rest of his beer without stopping, his stare menacing. “My last relationship? I fell for my best friend.”
I gestured with my hand. “This ought to be good. Go on.”
“It was the usual garbage. Fell in love. Planned a future together.” He paused, looking as if he were lost in a memory. Suddenly, his tone changed, softening briefly. A flicker of emotion crossed his face, his angry mask threatening to falter. “God, I worshipped her.”
“So, what happened? There has to be more to it than that.” Lucy was on the edge of her seat, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce, like a cat stalking prey.
Wait. Why did I care? That’s right. I didn’t because Zack’s hand had snaked its way to my stomach.
Adam composed himself. “Summed up? Don’t get involved with someone you know. Never works out.” A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “Like I already told you guys, there’s nothing to tell. Rest in peace,” he said as he toasted the ceiling with his newly-refilled glass of beer.
“Oh, shit! She died?” Lucy exclaimed and scooted closer to Adam, rubbing his arm. “You poor, poor baby. That had to be so awful. If there’s anything I can do…anything—”
“I didn’t say ‘she’ died,” Adam scooted a few inches away from her, “but the ‘we’ died, which is the same if you ask me.”
“How fucking poetic.” I rolled my eyes. “Relationships are simple. Black and white. If you ask me, they’re about knowing when to hold on and when to let go.”
“Well, no one asked you, boozehound.” Adam eyed my glass.
“Who broke it off?” Lucy asked. “Was it amicable? Do you two still talk?”
“Doesn’t matter. I moved on,” he said.
Lucy sipped her wine. “So, the million-dollar question provoked by Alfred Lord Tennyson is, ‘Tis it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’?”
“Who knows? You have to learn some lessons the hard way. Real pain comes from clinging to a love that never existed.” He shrugged. “All that’s left are scars, proof that some wounds never heal. Fortunately, they go numb after a while.”
“I’d be happy to nurse those wounds for you,” Lucy said her lower lip on the verge of pouting. “I’m serious. Whatever I can do—”
“I’m done chasing ghosts.” He deadpanned her. “Can we talk about something else? Some relationships aren’t worth resurrecting.”
Part of my heart broke as I realized Adam had one of his own. It may have been shriveled and black, but it was in there. Somewhere. In that moment, I could see it in his eyes. His tough, outer exterior had weakened a little. And in that, he’d became human to me. It was clear he hurt, and part of that was my fault. I’d dealt out some of that pain by revisiting his past.
Santi set my tab down on the table and I blinked back into reality. It neared two o’clock in the morning. Closing time. I’d lost count of how many Orgasms I’d had, including the mammoth one he’d last brought me. I feared the final price on the bill. Zack’s hand had slid up to my inner thigh from my knee, and I wondered how long it’d been there.
The sobering moment reminded me of how drunk I’d gotten and the control I’d lost. The most recent Orgasm suddenly threatened to resurface and I dry heaved. Too much alcohol was in my system and not enough food. It was about to get messy. Fast. Glancing at the untouched sandwich with globs of congealed cheese, I was pushed over the edge. My hand clamped over my mouth and I stood up, shoving Zack away.
The world was fuzzy when I wove my way around the table. I gulped and managed to pull it together long enough to string a few sentences. “‘Veigh, give Santi my debit card to pay. It’s in my wallet.”
“Sure,” she said. “You okay?”
“Fine. Just gonna pull a Daveigh and go release a drink or five into The Fill & Spill bathroom. Standard Sunday night.”
A second round of gagging took hold as my mouth salivated. Next stop, vomit-ville. Population: One. My hands began to sweat, and I wasn’t sure if I’d make it. I raced for the bathroom, shoving my way through a crowd of people deep in conversation, blasting through the door for a second time that night.
I looked to the left. The first stall was open. Saving grace!
The same frizzy-haired woman with oversized glasses who’d been washing her hands before was back once again, hands covered in suds. She looked at me in the mirror and slumped her shoulders. “Really? Are we on the same pissing schedule or something?” she muttered.
“It’s okay,” I rushed by her. “You don’t have to go this time.”
“Gee, thanks.”
I slammed the stall door behind me, the lock not taking hold as the door flung back open again. But it didn’t matter if I had an audience. There was no time to spare.
Every Orgasm I’d had that night erupted and my stomach muscles cramped as the exorcism took hold. Four massive rounds of that abdominal workout are what it took for my body to calm down as I braced the sides of the toilet with a deadly grip, saliva trailing from my mouth to the toilet bowl. It was one of my finer moments. Slow deep breaths seemed to be working, keeping a repeat of the performance at bay.
A few minutes later, I convinced myself to leave the sanctuary of the stall and rinsed my mouth, taking a few moments to press another cool paper towel to the back of my neck. “Never again.” I blew my nose and let out a long sigh with my head inches above the sink.
For the first time, I noticed the redheaded woman stood in the corner, leaning against a twenty-five-cent tampon machine. “You gonna be okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.” I inhaled deeply. “Just a rough night.”
“I couldn’t tell.” She glanced toward the bathroom stall and frowned. “They should retire that toilet after what you put it through.”
“Well, everyone needs a talent they excel at.”
“Can’t drown your man troubles in alcohol forever, you know,” she said as she fished around in her purse. “Here.” She offered me a tin of breath mints. “You look like you could use one of these. In fact, take the whole thing. They’ll help settle your stomach. What were you drinkin’, anyway?”
“Thanks,” I replied. “Orgasms.” The bold flavor of spearmint was far better than regurgitated coffee, amaretto, and Irish cream.
She laughed heartily. “Don’t you know nothin’ about drinkin’, honey? You never binge on anything that can curdle and—”
The word “curdle” made my mouth wrench as I thought about the sandwich on the table. “Look, I’ve got a lot of heavy shit going on right now, but I don’t have man troubles.”
“Uh huh,” she replied. “Right.”
Stupid stranger. I bit my lip and thought about Zack’s wandering hands, Adam’s snarky attitude, and Cash being too much of a cheese dick to fire me.
She shook her index finger at me. “No more Orgasms for you tonight. Otherwise, you’re gonna regret it in the mornin’.”
Considering Zack’s persistent advances, that much was true in more ways than one. “Trust me, not happening. And thanks again for the mints.” I nodded toward the tin.
“Get yourself some sleep.” She patted me on the shoulder and paused at the exit of the bathroom. “I’d say you’ll feel better after some sleep, but the hangover from what you drank probably won’t be a pretty picture.”
The door swung shut behind her.
A few minutes later, when I was confident I wouldn’t encounter her on the way out, I headed back toward the table.
“You okay?” Daveigh asked. “You’re all pasty and gross-looking. I think you broke some blood vessels on your face too. I could play connect the dots right up here on your cheeks and make—”
“Stop.” I shooed her hand away and picked up my tote bag. “Better after barfing, but still not one hundred percent. Gonna go home and lie down.”
“I used the card in your wallet to settle up your tab, and the receipt’s in your purse. Forged your signature. By the way, you’re a good tipper.” Daveigh’s voice competed against the latest song. A country line dance began up on the stage. It was Fill & Spill tradition and how they’d always closed down the bar on Sunday nights.
“Thanks.” My heart sank at the thought of my dwindling bank account.
“We’ve got to head out too,” Daveigh said. “I promised Lucy a ride home.”
I’m not sure what prompted it. Being remorseful. Being drunk. Being a giant asshole by dredging up Adam’s past. Maybe it was a recipe including all of those ingredients. Any way you looked at it, I was trying to be the bigger person by waving the white flag. With a deep breath, I walked around to the other side of the table and reached my hand out toward him.
“What are you doing?” He looked up at me, a confused look on his face.
“It’s called a handshake. They’re commonly used in greeting or to finalize an agreement.” I paused. “I thought it could be a fresh start.”
He stood up slowly and looked me over from head to toe. I could almost feel the unadulterated animosity he’d harbored for me buzzing in the air. It remained a constant, no matter how many glimpses of him I’d snuck throughout the evening. The sole exception was when he’d taken his stroll down memory lane.
He offered me one word, and he spoke it slowly as he shook his head left and right. “No.”
I was left to stand there, feeling like an idiot with my hand outstretched, waiting for a handshake that wasn’t going to happen. After a few more uncomfortable seconds, I allowed my hand to drop back down to my side.
It was only one silly syllable, but it wasn’t what I expected. Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted him to say. Acceptance would’ve been ideal. Part of me wanted to be absolved of everything that’d transpired. After how I’d acted, I didn’t deserve it. At least I could say I tried.
Country music blared in the background as the crowd chanted for one more round of the song, but our table was as silent as a grave. Everyone stared with wide eyes while I wanted to disappear.
“Dude,” Zack said quietly, “don’t be a dick. She spilled a beer on you. She didn’t kill your puppy. I know you had a shit day at work and all, but let it go. Be nice.” His voice lowered, “I’m interested in this girl.”
“Yeah, well ‘this girl’ shouldn’t have been so reckless.” Adam shrugged into his jacket and then his attention turned toward me. “It’s been forgotten, but not forgiven. Don’t expect that to change,” he said. And I knew those words, carefully crafted in their specific order, were intended to hurt.