Chapter 9 Boo!
WREN
I’m still reeling from the conversation with my parents when I pull into The Local. It’s not lost on me that I need to find a place to live, but not being able to find something affordable is stressful and overwhelming.
I’m not even sure why I turned in on my way home. It’s not like me to go for a drink, but I saw the sign and it felt like the right call. I blow out a long breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts, and grab my phone.
The Tortured Therapists Department
I know it’s last minute, but anyone want to meet at The Local for a drink?
Chloe:
Wish I could, but Ava was with a sitter all day. Next time!
Lacey:
Poppy, Logan, Jace, and I are out on a double date. We can come meet you after?
Don’t worry about it. Y’all have fun!
Gray?
Gray:
I fear I already took off my bra. Don’t hate me!
I understand! I guess I’m drinking alone.
Gray:
Unless you meet someone cute!
Very funny.
Poppy:
Be safe. If you need a ride, call one of us.
I will. See you all in the morning.
I hesitate for a couple minutes and then get out of my car to walk across the parking lot. The bar is surprisingly empty for a Saturday night, and when I check the time on my phone, I realize it’s only six thirty, so the main crowd isn’t here yet.
I find an empty barstool and wave the bartender over.
“Whatcha drinking?” he asks.
“Any specials?”
“No. Just the usual.”
“I think I want an amaretto on the rocks tonight.” He nods and walks away. I pull out my phone and type apartment for rent near me into the search bar. I scan the available listings.
Fourteen hundred dollars a month.
Twelve hundred dollars a month.
Twenty-four hundred dollars a month.
Every single one of them is so expensive.
Eight hundred dollars a month. I click on the listing, and my stomach turns when the pictures pop up on the screen. It’s an apartment in the basement of someone’s house. It’s totally giving live with me so I can use your skin to make a suit vibes. Hard pass.
I click back and keep scrolling. Realistically, I have time. I don’t technically have to be out until the end of October, but everyday it seems like more of my neighbors move, and it’s starting to creep me out. I stretch my neck from side to side.
A thousand dollars a month.
Money would be tight, but I could make it work. Maybe.
I click on the listing. Immediate no. Ugh. Why is this so hard? Feeling frustrated, I put my phone back in my purse.
“Thank you,” I say, offering a small smile when the bartender returns with my drink.
Taking a sip, the aroma fills my nostrils. The flavor of almond liquor dances on my tongue before warming my throat as I swallow down one sip and then another. I’m staring off into space when I feel a firm grasp on my shoulders.
“What the hell?” I yell, whipping around.
“Boo!” Tanner says, letting go of me.
He looks like he came straight from a business meeting. He’s wearing dark dress pants, expensive shoes, and a white button up shirt. His sleeves are rolled up, and the top couple buttons of his shirt are undone.
I didn’t know he owned clothes like this. My brain starts moving in a weird direction, thoughts about how good he looks beginning to trickle in, and I internally panic. I try to hide my emotions, but that’s not a skill I’ve ever acquired, and he catches me.
“Like what you see?” he asks, a little too cocky for my liking.
“Nope,” I grumble out as I take another sip of my drink.
“Is this seat taken?”
“Nope.”
He slides onto the stool next to me. “Frank,” he yells, waving to the bartender.
“Hey, T,” Frank says, putting out his hand and pulling Tanner into a hug over the bar. “What can I get you?”
I continue to stare straight ahead.
“It’s good to see you, man. Is Jerry here?”
“No,” Frank says. “He’s out of town until next week.”
“Okay, then I guess I’ll have what she’s having,” Tanner says. Frank moves away from us, and in my peripheral vision I can see Tanner has turned his body so he’s facing me.
“Are you waiting on a date to meet you?”
“Nope.”
“Are the girls coming?”
“Nope.”
“Are you going to say more to me than nope?”
“Nope.” I glance over at him, and a wide smile erupts across his face. His chest rumbles with a loud laugh that makes the blond knot on the top of his head wiggle a little.
“Okay. I take it that means you’re drinking alone?”
Frank slides his drink across the bar and then walks away to help another customer. Tanner lifts the glass to his lips.
“Not bad,” he says. “Amaretto isn’t your usual. Rough day?”
“What are you doing? Isn’t there some other girl here you want to try to convince to sleep with you?” I ask, looking around the bar.
“You think I’m trying to convince you to sleep with me?” He smirks. “Bold of you.”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” I take a sip of my drink before placing it back on the counter. “I think I’m going to go.” I stand quickly, waving at the bartender.
“Wait, don’t go. I was kidding.”
“Whatcha need,” the bartender says, walking back over to us.
“I’m going to close out.”
“Hold on. You haven’t finished your drink. We’ve never gotten to hang out just us. It could be fun,” Tanner offers.
The bartender looks back and forth between the two of us.
“I think you and I have two very different ideas of fun,” I say, turning to face Tanner.
He pats the barstool, looking up at me with the stare of a puppy dog. It’s the look of a man who always gets what he wants. God dammit, it’s working.
“For Christ’s sake,” I huff out. “I’ll finish my drink, just stop looking at me like that.”
“So, you gonna leave it open?” the bartender asks, hesitantly.
“I guess.”
“Works every time.” Tanner chuckles, sipping from his glass. “So, why are you here drinking alone?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
Silence hangs between us. We’re friends.
We’ve hung out numerous times with other people, but never alone—never just the two of us.
Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever had a real conversation with Tanner Mitchell that didn’t involve at least one other person.
Not that I’ve wanted to or had the chance.
When we’re together he’s usually too busy flirting or goofing off to be serious, but maybe tonight will be different.
TANNER
Wren’s eyes are the most beautiful shade of green and blue.
They look like the ocean. Her auburn hair hits right above her ass.
She’s wearing a green tank top that brings out her eyes and denim overalls covered in a floral pattern.
The smallest bit of stomach is visible on each of her sides.
Small freckles contrast against every inch of her milky skin, and I’m completely enchanted.
She clears her throat, and I realize I haven’t answered her question. Or did she not answer mine? I don’t remember.
“You good?” she asks.
“Yeah, sorry. Really long day. What did you ask?”
“Why are you drinking alone tonight?”
“Technically, I’m not alone. You’re here,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Shit, did they text you and tell you to come meet me?”
“Who?”
“The girls.”
“Nope. I haven’t talked to anyone all day. I was stuck at the office. I’m here because my day totally blew, and I needed a drink before I went home. You?”
She tips her head ever so slightly to the right and squints her eyes. “The office?”
“Yeah, the place I work. My own personal version of hell.”
She lets out a little giggle over the rim of her glass. “I didn’t have you pegged as the office type.”
“No? What did you think I did?”
“Honestly, I had no idea.” She shrugs her shoulders. “But the whole white-collar businessman who works weekends was not in my top five guesses.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t love it, so I guess you’re right that I’m not the office type.”
“Hmmm,” she responds. “Why was today bad?”
I don’t usually talk about this part of my life, but something in the way she’s looking at me makes me think I might want to tell her all of my secrets. I throw back the last of my drink. “Play me in a game of ping-pong. If you win, I’ll tell you, and if I win, you have to tell me why you’re here.”
She studies me for a quick second. “I really should go home.”
“Scared I’ll beat you? I get it.” I pick a piece of lint off of my shoulder. “I am one half of the Dink and Balls pickleball team and arguably our best player. I would be afraid I’d beat me too.”
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Be so insanely insufferable.” Her brow furrows, and she waves towards Frank. “I’ll see you later. Goodbye.”
Frank walks over. “Another round?”
“No,” she says at the same time I say, “Yes.”
“We’re not doing this. I’m leaving.”
“It’s one game. Indulge me. I know you know how to play.”
“I drove here. I don’t need to have more than one drink.”
“I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
Her breath hitches. “Do I even want to know what you mean by that?” She shakes her head.
“One game. Pretty please.” I do the puppy dog eyes again.
“Goodbye, Tanner.”
I’m desperate for her to stay. Partly because I don’t want to be alone, and partly because I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to hang out with just her again, and by some miracle this conversation is actually going kinda well.
“Pretty pretty pretty please,” I beg, clasping my hands in front of my face. I make my eyes even bigger and protrude my lip a little more.
“Fine. One game, but then I’m leaving.”
Jackpot!
“Told you that look never fails me,” I boast.
“And I wasn’t lying when I said you’re insufferable.”
Fuck, I like when she gives me shit.
I shift my gaze to Frank. “Another round of drinks and two ping-pong paddles, please.”
We collect the items and walk over to the ping-pong table in the corner of the bar. “Okay, so to recap, if I win, you have to tell me why you’re drinking alone, and if you win, I’ll tell you about my day.”
“This seems unnecessary, but if you insist. I’ll serve first,” she says, rolling her eyes and taking a sip from her glass.