Chapter 7 Bar
Chapter seven
Bar
Ihad to think of the bar like a shift rotation where I had a specific set of tasks.
My agenda: order a drink, chat with someone for at least ten minutes, and dance.
That wasn’t too bad. Especially if I stuck close to Kat.
After showing our IDs at the door, I latched onto my sister’s black cutout shirt and slunk into the bar as her curious little shadow. Bare yellowed lighting hung from the ceilings. In the back, billiards snapped and ice clinked against glass. I scanned the patrons for any sign of Angel.
“What does your guy look like?” Kat asked.
“He’s not mine,” I said.
She grinned too wide.
Oh, scrubs. I gave myself away again.
“He…has white hair,” I said. “But we’re just friends. Or something like it.”
“No judgment,” Kat said, playing with her cross. “Maturity can be hot. Although if he’s an older guy chasing young girls in bars, that might be a red flag.”
“He’s not an old man. He’s—” My train of thought snagged at the sight of Angel staring at me from the far side of the bar, his lips slightly parted.
Gorgeous.
No. Ridiculous.
Why didn’t he ever button his shirt all the way? And who was the girl touching his arm?
“He’s already talking to someone,” I said flatly.
“Where?” Kat perked up.
I gestured to the woman with curly hair feeling up his forearm.
My sister hummed. “Well, he’s looking at you.”
I hugged myself, wishing I could duck behind her to hide from his smug face.
This was so stupid. Now, his ego would be even more gigantic because I’d come here for him.
No, not him. Myself.
Kat nudged me. “Aren’t you going to say hi?”
“I can’t just go over there,” I said.
“Sure, you can,” she insisted.
I shook my head. That’d be too forward. An awkward wave was good enough, so I did that, instead.
He chuckled and hung his head.
What was funny about that?
Stupid, pretty jerk.
He showed the curly-haired woman something on his phone. Maybe he was asking for her number. My chest constricted at their obvious familiarity.
I certainly wasn’t going to talk to him now. But I couldn’t go home. I’d begged Kat to take me here. Plus, it’d be a waste of a cute outfit.
“Let me introduce you to a friend from True Tech.” Kat dragged me through the crowd toward a woman with short hair who was chatting up a waitress. “Hey, Ash,” my sister called.
“Kat. How’ve you been?” The woman had barely given my sister a one-armed hug before someone else called her name, louder and even more incredulous.
“Kat?” Sal, Angel’s friend wearing another bold shirt, popped out of the crowd with a beaming smile. “I didn’t know you were coming this week.”
“Yeah, I brought my sister with me. She’s officially joined the Westbrook Mall family,” she said, pulling me into the group for a side-hug.
Sal’s smile tightened in recognition. “Wait, is this…are you her famous little sis?”
“Yes?” I frowned, since I wasn’t sure what I’d be famous for.
“Ha. Small world. One sec.” He yanked Angel, who’d started striding toward us, toward the bar.
Kat and I exchanged a confused look.
Ash gestured with her drink. “Ignore those idiots. And welcome to the fam.”
“Thanks,” I said, though I had nothing to cheers with.
Kat tapped the techie’s wrist. “Hey, I meant to tell you, they’re coming out with Haunted Hilltop 6.”
“I saw that. And the next villain is a hot vampire mistress? Count me in,” Ash said.
As the girls discussed their favorite characters in leather, I meandered closer to the bar to eavesdrop on the boys.
Sal patted Angel’s chest. “You know what? You were right. Maybe focus on school over relationships for a bit before approaching that particular pigeon,” he said.
“You told me to go for it.” Angel said, brushing him off.
Sal tried to block him from returning to us. “No, man. You don’t understand. Victor is dating her sister.”
“So?” Angel glanced at Kat, and I quickly looked at her too so as to keep up the pretense I wasn’t eavesdropping on him.
“He’s trained in kicking ass and Kat could tase your balls if you hurt her baby sis,” Sal insisted.
Angel scoffed. “I don’t plan on hurting anyone unless they’re into that. Besides, I doubt Tori would give me the chance.”
Did he think I was so heartless?
If we were ever going to reconnect, now would be the time.
Kat nudged my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Mm, yes. I think I need some nuts,” I said, then winced.
What a stupid, obvious suggestion. She’d think it was a Freudian slip.
“Low blood sugar,” I muttered.
Kat hesitated, clearly torn between laughing and genuine concern. “The bar has snacks.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” I hurried off to escape my slip of the tongue.
I didn’t need Angel. Or his dick. Or a germ-infested tray of pretzels.
All I wanted was to feel the buzz of potential again. Hopefully, without the nausea that usually accompanied it.
Angel sidled up next to me at the bar as if my innuendo had summoned him and said, “Glad you made it, pidge.”
“Yes, well, I figured I should ‘give it a chance,’” I said, playing with the edge of an abandoned coaster.
“I hope you enjoy it.” He narrowed his eyes, studying me, then jerked his head playfully at my sister. “I didn’t think you flocked with ravens.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” I challenged.
“Mm, not nearly as well as I’d like to.” He smirked, raising his glass to his soft lips and nice teeth.
Was he flirting with any amount of sincerity?
I smoothed my skirt. “I bet you say that to all us ‘pigeons.’”
“Only the ones I like.” He winked.
How many of us were there?
The girl with curly hair eyed us from across the bar.
“What happened to the woman you love?” I asked.
He shrugged. “She’s out of town for ‘work.’ She might bring me something if I’m good, but I’m not counting on it.”
I furrowed my brow. “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”
“I would hope not. She’s my mother.” He slung the red liquid into his mouth.
His mother?! So, he wasn’t in love with a potential girlfriend?
“Why wouldn’t you just say that?” I snapped.
He leaned in, his words coated in sweet vermouth and bittersweet fruit. “It helped me gauge your interest. The fact that you’re having an emotional reaction—”
“You misled me on purpose.” I poked his chest.
He grasped my hand, drawing my knuckles close to his lips. “Pidge, if you were that curious about my sex life, all you had to do was ask. I’m available. Tonight, in fact.”
My jaw hung open in a shocked little squawk.
Was that an invitation for sex?
“You…are an idiot,” I said, yanking my hand back.
And so was I for thinking we could ever be friends. Or more than that.
Face flaming, I stalked off, and Angel followed at my heels.
“Wait, I’m sorry.” He tugged lightly on my elbow. “Let me buy you a drink.”
I whipped around. “Why? So you can keep making fun of me?”
“I’m teasing. Flirting, actually,” he said, the bar lights dancing in his eyes like little fireflies.
“I thought that’s what we were doing. Why you came to see me.
Why you dressed up so pretty. And you are beautiful, Tori, no matter what you’re wearing.
” He caressed the inside of my wrist, my pulse jumping at his touch.
I crossed my arms to smother any fluffier, forgiving feelings. “You’re pretty too. Pretty annoying.”
He chuckled. “I know. I’m sorry. Would you prefer I woo you properly? Bring you flowers? Get approval from your family?”
“No.” I huffed.
Kat glanced at us, but wouldn’t come over unless I signaled her or froze up in panic. She trusted me. Despite everything.
“My family situation is a little complicated right now,” I admitted, softening my stance.
“You mentioned that at The Closette.” He glanced down and swirled his drink. “I can relate to fucked-up family dynamics. That kind of stress can make it hard to navigate other relationships.” His gaze darkened, unfocused. “It affects your appetite, your sleep. Everything.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Add in a job on your feet all day?” He shook his head.
“How do you manage it?” I asked.
“Sometimes it helps to vent. Or find a distraction.” He edged out a stool in invitation for either option.
For once, it didn’t seem like he was baiting me.
I unfastened one more button on my sweater and slid onto the seat. “I think I’ll take that drink. But I’m not in school, anymore, Angel, so please don’t test me…or my feelings.”
“I’ll do my best, Tori,” he said, nestling in beside me.
It shouldn’t have mattered that we bumped knees or brushed feet. They were just parts of our bodies.
But so was the heart.
And the heart could be a wonderful, curious thing.