Chapter 8 Drink
Chapter eight
Drink
Angel gestured to the bar. “What can I get you?”
I wracked my brain for something people ordered in the movies. “A Long Island Iced Tea.”
He furrowed his brow. “You sure, pidge?”
Was that wrong? I squirmed. “This isn’t exactly a lemonade kind of conversation.”
He glanced at my mouth. “Fair enough. A Long Island Iced Tea for the lady, please,” he told the bartender.
She sighed and procured a tall glass of brown liquid.
“Thank you.” I took one sip, then gagged, covering my mouth to avoid spitting it out in front of them. That wasn’t anything like iced tea.
Angel snorted. “Not what you expected?”
I pushed the glass away. “I’ve never had it before.”
“It’s mostly booze. You shouldn’t be able to taste it, though.” He slid his glass over. “Want to try mine? It’s a Negroni: sweet vermouth, Campari, and gin.”
“What’s Campari?” Not that I knew much about the other ingredients.
“A bitter liqueur with citrus notes,” he said with the vague elegance of a server.
I sipped to be polite. It was dark red like a watered-down blood donation. Could they have used blood orange in this? That bitterness was a lot to process. I swallowed and winced.
“Thank you,” I rasped. “Would you like to try mine?”
He smirked. “Not used to drinking, huh?”
I shook my head. “I’ve sipped wine and champagne at weddings. But alcohol in general: the smell, the taste, the sting…it reminds me too much of sterilizing stuff at the hospital.”
“I can see where you’d get that. I thought you liked the hospital, though,” he said, using his tongue to corral the straw to his lips.
It was so nimble. Dexterous, actually.
He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for my answer.
“I do like it. I mean, I did.” I cleared my throat and glanced across the bar to fight the flame in my cheeks. “Kat got me a fruity drink for my twenty-first birthday that wasn’t too bad. I just can’t remember what it was called.”
He nudged my arm. “What’s going on your family situation, anyway? You said you had to drop out to help her with something?”
“Oh, that wasn’t for Kat. She’s pretty independent. We have an older sister, Jen, who got pregnant.”
“And how is that your problem?” he asked, matter-of-fact.
I choked on a laugh. “Uh, she needs help taking care of herself and her kid.”
“You know, lots of single mothers have done it on their own without derailing others’ plans. Mine managed with just the two of us for a bit,” he said.
Well, when he put it like that, Jen probably didn’t need me. But her situation wasn’t the only reason I dropped my classes.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
He gulped down more of his drink. “It always is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Life is complicated.” He gave me a rueful smile and leaned in, his breath tinged with orange and cherry. “I like to think I was made by immaculate conception.”
That was the most dramatic thing he’d ever said. I bit my lip so as not to smile too big in case it wasn’t a joke, then asked, “Why? Because of your name? Or you don’t like your dad?”
“I don’t know who he is,” he said, his voice strangely light.
I gasped and touched his arm, but he waved away my concern.
“I mean, he could be the man my mother was forced to marry. He could be the guy with a rap sheet she always seems to ‘run into.’ He could be a lot of things. It doesn’t matter, because I don’t want some deadbeat to claim me.
They won’t love me or pay for my schooling.
It’s not like I need them to teach me anything.
I have the internet, and I’m in my twenties,” he said, nursing his drink.
“Besides, I wouldn’t want any blowback about paternity to hit my mom.
She deserves to be happy after everything. ”
Each new bit of information squeezed my heart tighter than a blood pressure cuff, but I rubbed his shoulder to encourage him. “And you’re happy too?”
“Sure. If I never look into it, we avoid the shame of knowing, and I won’t owe anyone anything,” he said.
There had to be another, less bleak take on those circumstances.
“I-I guess it helped you learn to be independent,” I said.
He gnawed on an ice cube and side-eyed me. “Don’t pity me, pidge.”
“I don’t.” Although I was here should he need any consoling. “In some ways, I’m jealous. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. But I’m not sure being babied helped me in the long run,” I said.
He nudged my knee. “It’s why you’re so sweet.”
Too sweet, right?
“Maybe.” I feigned a smile.
If only that ‘sweetness’ hadn’t caused me to lose so much sleep. So much time. My dreams.
But at least I had my family, even if it was fractured right now, and Angel was opening up to me.
I lightly rubbed his back, which softened underneath my fingertips.
“You turned out pretty nice, too, thanks to your mom and whoever else,” I said, my insides fluttering at the way he leaned into me.
“And thankfully, Jen’s kid will grow up in a house with people who love them.
I only wish she’d make the guy be more involved, if only for child support or medical history, but she won’t tell anybody who it is. ”
“He might be married,” Angel said.
“Ew.” I shuddered and slapped his knee to fling the idea from our minds.
He cracked a smile. “Look at you. All moral and pretty.”
Like that was such a weird thing to be.
I straightened my sweater. “What? You wouldn’t sleep with a married lady.”
“Of course I would,” he said with an odd tone.
I gawked at him. No, he wouldn’t.
“I’d sleep with my wife all the time. But I’d never cheat.” He grinned.
“Ugh. You’re such a tease.” I pushed his leg playfully.
“I like getting a rise out of you,” he said, keeping eye contact as he pressed his thigh against mine. “You certainly seem to like getting one out of me.”
Oh my gosh. Was he referencing something dirty?
I lowered my head so my hair would curtain off my flushed face, and knocked into him with a little laugh. “Oh, please. For all I know, you’re Jen’s baby daddy.”
“I’ve never slept with a ‘Jen,’ and I always use protection,” he said, wrapping his arm across the back of my seat. “I also had a checkup last week. I'm very healthy.”
“Congratulations,” I said dryly, taking another drag of my drink.
Was he that confident he’d get lucky? Or did he sleep around so much he needed regular testing?
He shrugged. “Just thought you might be interested. Eventually.”
I might be.
But this was all kind of confusing, especially given these drinks. I made sure no one was listening, then confessed, “I haven’t been exposed to anything. Like that, I mean.”
“Ever? Or recently?” he asked, casually snuggled against my side.
“Um, ever, really.” I’d guzzle this whole glass of sanitizer-flavored nonsense to avoid talking about it. But part of me wanted to ask: what did he like? What did he suggest? Was it weird to hook up if we hadn’t dated properly?
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Would you like to wait until marriage for that kind of thing? Or are you not overly interested in it, even with a ring?”
I shivered at the intimacy of his fingertips against the shell of my ear. “N-no, I’m interested. At least, I think I am. I’ve just been too exhausted, too busy, and frankly, too nervous to pursue those opportunities.”
“But you’re not nervous with me?” He tilted his head, his expression softening.
I giggled and clutched my seat. “No, I’m still nervous. But it’s also kind of exciting. Seeing you. Getting to know you. Letting you get to know me.”
“Finally,” he exaggerated.
I dipped my nails in my drink, then flicked it at him.
He laughed and shook off the droplets like a bird ruffling its feathers.
The dew sparkled off him and tickled my face. He was so effervescent, beaming. My stomach flipped. Maybe it was a result of the strong drink.
But finally, I felt something more than idle affection and curiosity.
The bartender swung by with napkins. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but that woman is asking for you,” she said, gesturing to the curly-haired girl across the bar.
Angel sighed. “Oh, right. Will you give me a minute, pidge?”
“Sure.” I didn’t get the impression he was overly eager to see her.
“I’ll be back.” He squeezed just above my knee, and I had to resist the urge to kick out at him like this was a nerve test.
The second he turned away, I grabbed my glass and bolted toward Kat and her friends. “Hey, what do you think?” I asked her.
She glanced at Angel. “Of the guy I’ve never met?”
“Yes. Also, would you like my drink? It’s disgusting.” I held it out for her.
Ash stepped closer, her tone sharp. “Ericka doesn’t make bad drinks.”
The bartender glanced over at her name, but Ash downed the rest of her beverage to avoid eye contact with any of us.
I shifted my weight. “Um, sorry, I meant it’s too much for me. Do any of you like Long Island Iced Teas?”
Kat gave the drink to Ash. “Enjoy. My sister and I are gonna dance for a minute.”
My palms sweat. “Oh, no. Really?” In front of everybody?
“Trust me.” She dragged me over to a slightly less crowded section of the bar and milked my stiff arms to get into the groove. “I don’t want Sal overhearing,” she explained, dancing closer.
“That’s smart. He might report back to his friend.” I glanced over my shoulder at my possible date, my insides swaying more than my hips as he bobbed his head in cheeky acknowledgment of me and my dance. “Does that mean you don’t approve of Angel?” I asked.
“It means I got some dirt on your man.” She grinned, dark lipstick emphasizing her teeth.
I grabbed her hands and shook them. “Ah, you’re the best. What is it? Does he already have five girlfriends?”
“No.” She chuckled and raised our joined hands in celebration, then slid them in another dance move. “Now, as far as approval, what you decide to do with him and this information is up to you.”
“Right.” I didn’t know the details yet.
“According to Sal and Ash, Angel loves women, but he’s kind of wary of long-term relationships—for anyone, not just him,” she said.
Given his family history, that made sense.
“Does he break a lot of hearts, then?” I asked warily.
She shrugged into a shimmy. “From what I heard, he’s always been pretty obvious with his intentions.”
What were his intentions, then? It didn’t seem like he was only after sex. Otherwise, why would he buy me a Valentine’s gift? He’d also offered to ‘woo me’ properly, but that could’ve been teasing.
My sister twirled me. “His attitude has rubbed some people the wrong way, though. Zero can’t stand him.”
Zero the person? Victor’s sister?
I stumbled over my feet. “How come? I thought she was pretty straightforward too.”
At least in our brief conversation around the holidays, she had been. She struck me as a smart, serious girl. Not someone who’d particularly indulge Angel’s brand of communication or catch his eye. But maybe he considered her a challenge.
“Did he hit on her?” I asked.
“No,” Kat emphasized, trying not to laugh, as if there’d be some social bloodbath if he’d attempted it. “I guess when Sal got dumped by his ex, Angel tried playing wingman. He steered him toward other girls and iced Zero out of the conversation.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he thought she wasn’t ‘warm’ enough for a rebound attempt, or that she’d interfere in the cheering up process? But Sal chose Zero, and they’re in love, so it all worked out in the end. At least for them,” she said.
It could make family gatherings awkward, presuming we all stayed together.
“Does Victor hate him too?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t think he knows him—or what happened. I doubt he’d overly enjoy Angel’s presence, but he’d give him a chance.”
I wasn’t sure Victor enjoyed anyone besides Kat. He tolerated the rest of us. But my sister had sworn he had a dry sense of humor, and I’d see it the more I got to know him.
Of course, I hadn’t had much time for anyone or anything until recently.
Angel was an acquired taste for me. Maybe if they got to know him too…
Kat clasped my wrist. “I’m not going to judge someone for exploring their options. If you like him, he’s being respectful, and you think you’ll have fun, so be it. Just keep your eyes open. Protect your heart. And use condoms.”
“Kat,” I squawked. We were in public.
She flashed me a cheeky grin. “Ah, sorry. You probably know all that. Whatever happens, though, I hope you dance.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled.
I would have fun with Angel, a different kind than I had with Kat.
But for now, I did owe her a dance.
I pantomimed shaking maracas with my sister, loosening my worries into the beat like we used to do in our shared bedroom. As we twisted, getting lower, I caught Angel’s glance. He smiled at us goofing off and subtly danced with us from afar.
Maybe, just this once, I could take a chance on him.