CHAPTER THIRTEEN - CASEY
I was so nervous I thought my heart was going to burst right out of my chest. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I was staring at my reflection and trying to figure out how the hell I had landed myself in this situation. Why had I agreed so readily to a date like this? Going to a charity concert at a crowded upscale casino with a guy I had only met once and promptly made a fool out of myself in front of sounded like a stress nightmare. This event ticked a lot of boxes for me: loud, crowded, probably bright lights, and the undivided attention of a ridiculously handsome, charming man. I could not figure out for the life of me why a guy like Luke would ever be interested in me. Perhaps it was all a very elaborate prank or something.
“Stop. Stop doing that,” I told myself out loud, glaring at my own reflection. “Dr. Waltham told you to stop catastrophizing like this. It will be okay. You deserve a night out with a hot guy. Maybe he’s just really, truly into you.”
And now I was talking to myself. Great. I rolled my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. It was going to be alright. I was going to survive this. Hell, I was even going to make a valiant effort to have fun for once. Besides, I had just about exhausted all my usual means of passing the time. I had worked out in the apartment complex gym twice a day every day so far. I had baked approximately twelve different kinds of desserts and made myself a full three-course meal almost every single night. I had watched all the episodes of the few TV shows I cared enough to watch and was all caught up now. I had even pulled out my woodworking tools to start building a chair from scratch, while drinking a beer and listening to free online how-to guides about carpentry.
Because it wasn’t enough to just do one activity at a time. No. I had to multitask in order to be well and properly distracted these days. But hey, at least I had learned a few things in the process. I was not quite sure if teaching myself new recipes and carpentry techniques and pushing my body to the point of exhaustion was exactly what my therapist had meant when she urged me to relax and enjoy myself, but oh well. It had been a mildly entertaining time off by my own weird standards, at least.
Especially since the past week or so had been peppered with heart-pounding conversations with Luke via the dating app on which he had found me. I had even taken breaks from my intense “leisure” activities to answer him. As in, dropping what I was doing like a hot potato and rushing over to my phone to read his messages like I was some hormonal teenybopper with a schoolboy crush. It was kind of embarrassing, and I was glad that I was home alone for all this, with no one to see me acting like a lovestruck idiot.
We had been chatting constantly back and forth, flirting and talking about the dumbest stuff. He told me about some assholes he dealt with at work. I sent him photos of the chair I was building, the cakes I baked. He was always much more enthusiastic and seemingly impressed by what I did than I would have expected. It was as if he genuinely found me interesting and fun to talk to, which just didn’t seem realistic. I was a boring workaholic with an ugly scar. He was a flashy corporate hot shot who dressed in tailored suits and seemed to have absolutely no flaws to speak of whatsoever. But talking to him, seeing the way he believed in me and treated me like I was just as worthy of respect as he was… well, it just made me feel good. And it motivated me to want to be a better man. The kind of man who truly deserved Luke’s affections.
And that was why I was preparing to go meet up with him at the charity concert right now. Because the kind of guy Luke deserved wasn’t afraid to go on a date at a swanky casino and dress nice and act like he belonged in that kind of crowd. I was bound and determined to be that guy. For Luke’s sake, and maybe, in some tiny way, for my own sake, too.
So here I was, wearing the one and only long-sleeved shirt I owned that wasn’t a plaid flannel button-down, and the one pair of pants in my closet that weren’t work pants or faded jeans. Hell, I had even gone out and bought a new pair of shoes for this. Shoes that weren’t workout sneakers or clunky work boots. I was wearing sleek gray slacks, a white button-up, and shiny black shoes. But I didn’t want to go too fancy, since this was, in fact, a rock concert even if it was taking place at an upscale venue. So, I paired the look with a tried-and-true favorite in the back of my closet: a well-worn black leather jacket. I wanted a look that said both, “I am a functional classy man who totally does not live in a cramped studio apartment” and “I am a sexy badass who could fight you, but won’t, because I’m too classy.” I was certainly no fashion guru, but I thought this ensemble did a pretty good job of conveying that sentiment.
My phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, and I snatched it up at breakneck speed. It was a message from Luke. My heart pounded wildly in my chest. I slid the screen open to read what he had said.
How’s it going? Are you almost ready? I cannot wait to see you.
I smiled to myself, my cheeks already burning. I replied quickly.
I’m ready. I’ll hop in the car and head on over there. I can’t wait to see you, too.
As I slung my leather jacket over my shoulder, I gave myself a quick, affirming nod in the mirror and walked out of the bathroom. I took a deep breath and went downstairs, stepping out into the parking lot. The air was still and cool tonight, the late autumn breeze absent. With every step I took toward my car, my anxiety seemed to grow taller and more imposing. That cruel voice in the back of my mind warned me that I was making a mistake, that Luke would regret inviting me tonight, that everything that could possibly go wrong would go wrong, and it would all be a disaster.
But I quieted that voice. I got into my car and before I started up the engine, I closed my eyes and began deeply breathing. Slow and steady. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. In and out. I did it several times, forcing my mind to chill out, slamming those dark thoughts back into the shadows. It was going to be okay. I had to believe that.
When I opened my eyes again, I felt calmer. I smiled. “Damn it, Dr. Waltham. I guess I’ll have to eat my words on this one,” I muttered. I stuck the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. I pulled out onto the road and sped off into the night, letting myself be excited and happy for once in my life. It was true: I could hardly wait to see Luke again.
It didn’t take me long to get there, despite the usual evening traffic in the city. I listened to soft music and just thought about how amazing it would be to finally touch Luke, hear his voice, feel his breath warm on my skin. I could feel my body responding to just the mere thought of being around him. Of sharing space with the most amazing man. When I got to the casino, I parked in the parking garage and headed up to one of the highest floors. As soon as I walked out of the elevator, I heard an excited voice call out, “Casey!”
I turned to see Luke grinning broadly at me as he walked over, his arms wide open. He threw an arm around my shoulder and leaned in to kiss me on my right cheek, thankfully. To my relief, the lights were still fairly dim here, so I could kind of obscure my scar a little better than expected. I knew that Luke had seen glimpses of my scar before when we were together, but he had been a little tipsy then, too blinded by lust and dim lighting to get a truly good look at my face and all its flaws.
“God, am I glad to see you,” he said happily.
I looked him up and down in complete awe. He was dressed to the nines, wearing a sleek, perfectly tailored casual suit that accentuated his height and muscular frame. He had on a skinny black tie and his hair looked impeccable, like a fancy stylist had arranged it.
“You look like you just stepped off a red carpet or something,” I told him, my eyes wide with amazement. Luke smiled and brushed off my compliment.
“You’re too sweet. Besides, you’re the one rocking this sexy leather jacket,” he said.
“You said it was a rock concert,” I said, shrugging. He chuckled and pulled me close.
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” he assured me. “And I am a nervous wreck.”
I snorted. “Nervous? You? That can’t be possible.”
“I’m serious. This concert… it means a lot for me. For my company. And I need everything to go totally smoothly or I could be in big trouble. That’s what they say about taking risks: big risks can mean either big payoffs or big failures. I cannot fail. I have to make this happen. I have to pull this off,” he said emphatically. I reached for his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. It was odd, hearing this insanely put-together, successful guy admit his insecurity. I never could have guessed that a man like Luke had such deep-seated worries.
“Hey, it’s going to be perfect. I promise. The venue is incredible, and you are a damn genius. I have no doubts that this event will go off without a single hitch,” I told him truthfully.
“Thank you,” he said. “I hope you’re right. Anyway, I could use a drink. Or maybe just a shot of something. You in?”
I nodded. “Yep. Lead the way.”
Still holding my hand, Luke pulled me along down the hallway to the massive events room. I could feel the bass beat pumping underfoot as we approached. He opened the double doors, and we stepped inside, into the dark, crowded, noisy room. I got a flashback to the night Luke and I met, and I hoped this night would go a little better than the first. The crowd seemed to all be in good spirits, and it was a massive turnout. There had to be at least a couple hundred people here. From the bar it was nearly impossible to even see the stage where the opening act was performing, because the sea of dancing, chatting people was so thick.
Luke took me straight up to the bar and somehow miraculously found us a couple of seats next to each other. We sat down and Luke managed to catch the bartender’s eye. There was a young guy and a slightly older woman tending bar, both of them clearly accustomed to this kind of a crowd. They seemed totally at ease, even as countless people harangued them for drinks.
The bartender slid over to us, looking utterly calm and happy to be there. “What can I get you two?” he asked cheerily.
“Tequila rocks,” Luke said, then turned to me. “What are you having?”
“Just a beer, thanks,” I told the bartender.
“Picky about what kind?” he asked.
“Nothing too light, but no stouts either. You got any new craft beers in?” I said.
“Sure. You want to see the list?”
I shook my head, smiling. “No, just surprise me.”
“You got it,” he replied and turned away to prepare our drinks.
I looked at Luke with wide eyes. “Jeez. It must be hell bartending at a place like this.”
Luke laughed. “Hey now, this is my workplace.”
I blushed. “Oh, I mean no offense. Just that I consider myself a pretty patient man and even I don’t think I could quite handle a crowd like this one,” I explained.
“I know, I’m just teasing. I couldn’t do it either. Our bartenders are killer. We only hire the calmest people to do it because we’ve had a problem with less Zen folks walking out on the job in the past,” Luke told me.
“Wow. Walking out? I could never do that. No matter how much I hated a job. Of course, I have never had a job I hated that much, so what do I know?” I said as the bartender brought us our drinks. I took a sip of the beer and gave the bartender a nod of approval before he shuffled off to deal with the next customer.
“Yeah, you love your job, don’t you?” Luke asked, with genuine interest.
I smiled. “I do. It’s hard work, and it takes a lot out of you, but at the end of the day I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything different.”
“I feel the same way about my work,” he replied. “Don’t get me wrong, there are some days when I think maybe I should’ve followed my original plan I had back in college, but honestly? I think I’d get bored. Working here at the Sentry just feels right. Never a dull moment. It keeps me busy, keeps me on my toes. No room for error, for complacency.”
“You and I have a lot in common,” I said.
Luke grinned. “That we do.”
We chatted for what could have been hours or just a few minutes. When Luke and I were together, it was as if time ceased to exist, ceased to matter. All that mattered was being close to him, listening to his voice, just soaking up his presence. Being with him was like a drug. He was addictive, but not in a damaging way. He was a drug I could happily stay addicted to. He made me feel higher than anything else, more giddy and blissful than any cocktail.
When we finished our drinks, Luke looked at me with a flash of flirtatious excitement in his gorgeous eyes and asked, “Do you want to dance?”
I blushed and looked away. “I don’t really… do that. The whole dancing thing.”
“Oh, come on. I can’t dance either, but luckily I work here so it’s only like all of my coworkers will see me make a fool of myself,” he joked. I couldn’t help but laugh along with him and give in.
“Okay. Fine. You got me. I will dance with you. But I’m warning you, I will not be good at it,” I said.
Luke grabbed my hands and pulled me through the crowd, moving us closer to the stage. The music got louder and louder, the speakers vibrating the floor. He began to move in rhythm with the beat, swaying and pulling me close.
I was bashful at first, totally out of my element, but I couldn’t resist him. If Luke wanted to dance, then by god, I was going to dance with him. As soon as I started moving, it was like every muscle in my body relaxed. I felt less tense. I could just go with the flow for once in my life. It wasn’t long before we were swinging and spinning, just two complete fools grooving and laughing. I couldn’t have wiped the grin off of my face even if I wanted to. Luke made me feel free. Everything was going so perfectly, it was like a dream. I never imagined I could feel this happy. All those dark thoughts had been shoved into a corner, making room for true joy. I never wanted this magical night to end.