Chapter 4 #2
I wave to catch her attention while downing the rest of my beer. “Soph, another beer, please.”
She smiles sweetly and pours me a drink from the tap. “I have my next set in fifteen. Any requests?”
“No, just play something acoustic.” I wink and take a small gulp of my beer. I need to pace myself a bit if I want to enjoy tonight. But still, I can’t stop flirting with her. She is magnetic, and I can’t stop being drawn to her.
This woman is something else. There isn’t any other way to describe her.
Her version of “Closing Time” is giving me chills.
I have no idea why she’s performing in this small bar instead of a sold-out arena.
Someone needs to discover her, and soon.
With that thought, I record a part of her performance to show my cousin Angel, who owns a record label, later.
After finishing another mind-blowing acoustic set featuring songs from classic rock to Top 40 hit songs, the woman I can’t stop staring at moves back behind the bar and serves drinks to the other patrons.
I wave my hand frantically, trying to get her attention, but it’s like she’s ignoring me on purpose.
So I move closer and sit in front of her. She glances my way and frowns.
“Can I have another drink?” I raise my voice over the music.
“Why are you still here? Are you seriously drinking all alone tonight?”
Ouch. That hit too close to home. “I’m trying to forget my life for a moment. And I didn’t want to bring Eli and Ollie to share my misery with me.”
“I shouldn't have said that,” she admits under her breath while wiping the bar top with a cloth. The faint smell of lavender from the cleaning solution hits my nose. It’s soothing and reminds me of summers in my uncle’s house.
“Give me a beer, and we’re good.”
Soph hands me my beer without saying a word as I wonder if I should tell her the truth about why I’m here. The alcohol is loosening my lips as I want to share everything with this woman I have only talked with once before, even if it feels like I have known her for longer.
“I actually broke up with my girlfriend today. So, I’m a guy looking for a rebound and good times.”
“Go and look somewhere else, then. No rebounds here. There isn’t enough space for a basketball hoop.” She gives me the look of I dare you. I like this side of her—the fire in her eyes whenever I glance her way.
“Have you ever experienced a bad breakup? Or am I asking too much? Because you know, I feel like you’ve heard things about me, but I know nothing about you.”
She looks at me with a weird expression that I can’t read. “Well, my most recent partner forgot to mention that he enjoys sucking his best friend’s cock and vice versa. Does that count?”
I gape at her because I’m sure I heard her wrong. “Are you serious?”
“That’s exactly what happened. I guess it means that we weren’t meant to be,” she shrugs her shoulders before organizing the glasses.
“That’s for sure. Someone who treats you like that doesn’t deserve you, Soph.”
She turns around, and her eyes flash with something once again before she schools her expression. It wasn’t the first time I noticed that reaction tonight. Maybe talking about breakups is tough for her. Her wounds must still be fresh.
It’s like I’m skipping songs on shuffle as I keep changing the topic of discussion. “So, Soph, what kind of music do you like? Was that the go-to set you performed earlier?”
She laughs as she cuts lemons behind the bar. “Why the sudden change in the subject? Don’t get me wrong, I could talk about music all night long, but I was just wondering. You keep doing that a lot.”
I knew she would catch that. “I’m getting sick and tired of thinking about all my failed relationships and exes. They were all at least one fry short of a Happy Meal, anyway. Tiffany, my latest ex, for example, has more issues than Vogue.”
Soph stops what she’s doing and peers at me with amusement in her eyes. “Did you just tell me that your exes are messed up without using the words? Very classy, Jax, very classy. And here I thought you had some dignity left.”
“No, you must have imagined things. I said no such thing,” I respond, putting my hand over my heart, face portraying innocence. Her expression sobers, and she moves away from me, placing the lemon wedges in the fridge before wiping the flavored syrup bottles next to the coffee maker.
I don’t get it. Like the bar name, she’s warm one moment and cool the next. I can’t read her. Like at all. That would explain why I pick the wrong ones. My love life is like the love child of a train wreck and a dumpster fire—a total mess without me even trying too hard.
“Soph, are you okay?”
“I’ve had a long night, and my shift isn't over yet.”
“Well, that sounds awesome, as I want to get shot-faced. It would be even better if you could be shot-faced with me.”
Soph snorts at my lousy attempt at making a joke. “Shot-faced?”
“Yeah, like shitfaced but with shots.”
“I figured out as much. But it sounds dumb, even for you.”
I chuckle. “You know I’m not an idiot, just a fool with awful taste in women. So please, help me and get me shot-faced.”
She must like my reply because she smiles again. “Okay, okay, one or two more shots can’t hurt when you’re nursing a broken heart or ego. What would you like?”
“Anything with a high level of alcohol will do. Thanks, Soph.”
“Another vodka shot coming up. Need a chaser?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a craft beer like the one I had earlier.”
This seems like the beginning of a great night.
Oh, how fucking wrong I am.