Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
avery
right where you left me – Taylor Swift
Oh my god, he’s coming over.
Of course.
As if today hasn’t thrown enough in my path, apparently it decided that a night out for a little distraction would lead to yet another encounter with my past. Which also means I’ll be drinking extra to forget the way I had to fight not to gasp the moment our eyes finally locked.
I hadn’t realized he would be working tonight, but after the heinous day at work, I needed a drink, desperately.
He looks good. I mean, he always did—does.
His hair is messy in the way that suggests his fingers have been combing through it.
His standard black T-shirt stretches tight across the chest I’ve slept on more times than my own pillow, putting the beautiful art covering his thick biceps and veiny forearms on full display.
His dark jeans strain against his thighs as he eats up the distance between us way faster than I’m prepared for.
I smooth my hair away from my face, nervously twisting the strands.
After our encounter last night, I’m not sure how to act. I know I was harsh, but all I could see was him and that blonde, the way they looked together, and it hurt.
It still hurts.
I look down, taking a deep breath and readying myself as he approaches the table.
“Hey.”
His smoky voice floats over to me, reminding me of the first time he spoke to me—as the kid who was dropped into our tiny town in his senior year of high school and sat behind me in English.
“Your drinks,” he states, pulling me back to the present.
He looks away as soon as my eyes meet his, setting the drinks on the table.
He places the beer in front of Grayson before sliding mine across to me, already knowing which drink was mine given he made it for me every time we came to this exact place.
Either while I watched him working or out with our friends when he’d come behind me wherever we sat, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and letting me use him as a backrest for however long I sat there.
“Kane!” Morgan shouts. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”
I shoot daggers at her, wondering what in the world she’s talking about. I mean, we were just talking about him, but he did not need to know that.
Grayson looks at me with a faint guilty expression before his eyes drift over at one of the TV hosting some sports game.
I grab my drink, shoving the straw between my lips as I look up, finding Kane’s eyes staring at my mouth. When he notices my gaze fixed on him, he quickly looks away, red rising to the apples of his cheeks.
“You were?” he asks, looking a little spooked.
“Yes, see Avery and I are swamped. I’m talking so busy, blah blah blah, and unfortunately today our dishwasher broke.
I was going to call a plumber but then Avery remembered the last time you fixed it.
And I was saying that a great way to save money would be to see if you could come look at it again.
” Morgan lays it on thick with Kane, refusing to look at me as she speaks.
A laugh comes from across the circle table before Grayson tries to cover it with a cough into his fist. I throw a scowl in his direction before placing my look back at Morgan.
I had no idea our dishwasher was broken, so this is news to me. Truthfully, I really would not put it past her to have broken it herself, just to shove Kane and me in a room together.
I kick her shin under the table to get her attention. I’m impressed when she barely flinches, still refusing to look at me.
“I, uh—” Kane stammers.
“Morgan, it’s fine. We can just call someone. I’m sure—” I start, but Kane cuts me off.
“No.”
I blink at him.
“I can come check it out tomorrow.” His voice carries a nervous lilt as he looks at me like we’re the only two people in the bar.
I know if I told him not to, he’d listen.
He’s always been so good at reading me, better than anyone else.
I always said he was psychic, but he insisted he just paid attention and that all he had to do was look at me to know what I was feeling—claiming that he categorized all my facial expressions with how often he stared at me.
If he sensed that I didn’t want him there, he would make an excuse not to come.
But I do want him there.
Pain shoots up my leg as Morgan kicks me under the table. Another snicker slips out of Grayson before a sharp ow and a look to Morgan follows.
“Uh no, that would be great if you could, thanks,” I stammer out, ignoring their antics around me.
Kane, coming over.
To our place.
After I just told him we should avoid each other.
Yeah, I’m totally going to throw up in the bathroom thinking about this later.
“Okay,” he says, his face brightening for the first time since he walked over and warmth flickering back into his eyes twinkling under the warm bar lights. “Okay, cool. Well, I’ll, uh, text you and see what the best time is?” he asks, still looking at me.
“Perfect, thanks Kane! Ugh, you’re so sweet and such a lifesaver,” Morgan replies as my brain scrambles for something to say.
“Okay, well I need to get back, our new hire is still being trained so…” he slowly trails off while starting to walk backwards, eyes lingering on me.
I nod, then with one last glance and soft smile my way, he turns and starts heading back toward the bar. I don’t miss the way he looks back at me every so often though, almost as if what just happened was all just a dream.
When he’s out of sight and occupied again, I turn sharply to Morgan as she sips on her drink, innocently scrolling on her phone.
“There’s a fucking code, Morgan Belle McIntyre. What the fuck wrong with you?” I lean closer to her so we’re not overheard.
“What? Our dishwasher is broken. I don’t think I was supposed to put that much soap in this morning.” A glint in her eye as she speaks.
“You’re dead to me.”
“I hate when mom and dad fight,” Grayson chimes in, grabbing his beer and taking a big gulp as he looks at the dinner menu.
Later, when Kane is no longer standing behind the bar, I brace myself to go order another drink.
Morgan and Grayson are playing pool with a group of guys from North Chester University.
They tried to get me to join, but the guy flirting with me finally got the hint that I’m not interested, giving me space to breathe.
Striding up to the counter, I take the first seat I can find.
My feet ache, making me regret the choice to wear my new boots that I bought after a late-night doom scroll trying to ignore my feelings.
They made the girl who posted them look so powerful, and I wanted to manifest some of that power for myself.
The you may see your ex but you have these killer boots and you’re unaffected by his stupidly handsome face power, that I’m not sure I’m channeling.
Instead, I’m just giving sad, grumpy girl in black checkered Doc Martens and skinny jeans.
Which, unfortunately, would not be wrong.
I sit on the stool and pick at a napkin in front of me, trying to release some of this anxious energy that has had its hold on me since I walked into The Grunge tonight.
Soft music plays overhead since it’s still early, and the dinner crowd hasn’t quite left yet.
I get lost in the melody of a man unable to move on from a lost love, feeling my heart tug a bit.
I glance around at all the couples mingling in the back booths, noticing how half of them appear oblivious to the crowded bar around them—the same way I used to feel with Kane.
Before I can sink too far into that feeling, I face the bar again. “Hey there, can I get a Coke and vodka with lemon?” I ask the blonde bartender whose back is turned to me.
When she turns around, I suck in a sharp breath. It’s the girl I saw Kane with.
Of course he’d be fucking someone from work. The bitterness that runs through me shakes me.
“Of course. Oh hey!” she exclaims. “You’re Kane’s ex, right? I’m Lindsay.” She leans her elbow on the black bar top, making sure to put an extra emphasis on the word ex, which confuses me.
“Uh, yes. Why?” I reply hesitantly. The last thing I want is to be that ex who creates drama with the new girl, but I don’t know how long I can pretend to be nice if this is some sort of look what I have now.
“Oh, you know, since Kane is so talkative he obviously told me all his deepest darkest secrets,” she says, loaded with sarcasm, then adds, “Kidding. I saw him mooning over you and basically had to torture the truth out of him. You’d think I was trying to get nuclear codes out of him or something.
” She chuckles, and my confusion grows. She seems carefree for someone who caught her new guy staring at his ex.
“I’m surprised he said more than five words to you at once, he’s not really much for talking,” I reply, wondering if this new drink was worth it. She mixes the perfect amount of vodka to Coke, which is even more impressive considering she isn’t even looking at the drink she’s making.
She looks effortlessly chic in her deep maroon jumpsuit and platform Converses, because of course, she has that cool-girl vibe without even trying. Her bracelets jingle against the counter as she works.
I look down at myself, wondering why it doesn’t feel so effortless for me, as she laughs like we’re sharing an inside joke. She stirs the drink lightly and pours it into a glass, adding the squeeze of lemon before sliding it my way.
“Oh yeah, I couldn’t get him to shut up,” she replies with a wink.
My hackles rise with how she talks about him, jealousy settling low in my stomach as I take a sip of the perfectly made drink. Damn, I really wanted it to suck so I could have a valid reason to hate her, but I chastise myself with how unfair that would be of me—it isn’t her fault.
“I remember telling my girlfriend that I was a little worried he couldn’t speak at first. When he offered to show me where a good place to eat was, part of me thought he was going to lure me to his van.” She chuckles as she leans onto the counter toward me. I startle in slight confusion.
My brow furrows, catching on to what she said at the beginning. Girlfriend?
She continues, “When we got to this little hole in the wall place, where different types of macaroni were the only thing to eat, he got quiet again. Naturally I filled the silence, and I think he wanted to crawl out of his skin.” She laughs, and I feel a chuckle bubble up as I picture Kane sitting there eating their buffalo mac—because he’s a creature of habit—playing with the end of his sleeve, like he does when he’s out of his element.
“I—uh…yeah, that sounds exactly like Kane. Did you say girlfriend?” I question, trying not to make it obvious that she’ll make or break me with her relationship status.
“Yes, Claire! She came to meet us at the bar afterward. We moved down here for Claire’s new job, so finding this gig was a godsend for me.
I worked at a bar back home while doing freelance during the day and I hoped to find something like that again.
” She busies herself with the few drink orders she’s gotten while we’ve been talking.
Relief floods through me as I sip my drink, now more than half gone without me even thinking about it. I should really slow it down as I can already feel the world spinning a bit. The one thing I’ve always been made fun of in the group is how much of a lightweight I am.
She must see something on my face, because the next second she’s putting down the shaker and staring directly at me. “Wait, don’t tell me you thought Kane and I were together?” she inquires, leaving the question open.
“Well…” I start, unsure what to say next.
“I saw you guys here and just…well, kind of”—I take a breath, placing my now-empty glass on the countertop between us, playing with the straw and ice—“assumed, I guess. I mean, I told you Kane isn’t really a talker, even with some of our best friends.
So, when I saw him with you, laughing, I guess my brain just jumped there. ”
She seems to sense the unease coming off of me as she slides a new drink in front of me and takes away the old one.
“Oh my god, no. He feels like a little brother already. And truly, penises do not impress me. I tried once, obviously, just to make sure, but when he whipped it out, I screamed a little and called my mom to pick me up. Kind of solidified to me that I am purely a woman-only type of gay.” She chuckles, as if she’s remembering this exact memory in her mind.
“That is…good news. That is, wow,” I ponder, feeling more drunk than I thought. I make a move for my wallet to pay for the drinks she gave me when she stops me.
“Oh no, don’t worry about it.” She waves my card away.
“Kane said to put all your stuff under him. If I took money from you, I’d have to deal with even more of his brooding than usual.
” She grabs the dirty glasses and turns to take them to the back, but before she leaves, she adds, “It was great to meet you, Avery. I really hope this isn’t the last time we see each other,” Lindsay says, a soft look of sincerity on her face.
I smile, then stand from the lowered black stool I’ve been sitting on, ruminating on why Kane would still cover my drinks.
I stumble a little bit as I head back to Morgan and Grayson, clearly not missing me as they’re still talking to the same white-collar, clean-cut frat boys.
Grayson is having some debate with one of them about our local baseball team and their newest pitcher.
I never thought I had a type, but staring at these guys, I miss arms covered in ink and unruly hair that never seems to have one set style.
I slide back into my abandoned chair, noticing the world starts spinning a bit more.
That doesn’t stop me from taking one of the shots the boys put in front of us, though.
I shoot one back, and before I know it, three are gone and all thoughts of Kane finally go quiet in my head, the feeling of warmth flooding my veins.