Chapter 5
Nick
Well, I guess there really is a first time for everything.”
I roll my eyes at the bartender, Daniel, who sets a Red Bull in front of me.
All of the bartenders at the Anvil know that I’m not much of a drinker.
Usually, I’ll drink water, Red Bull, or Ginger Ale.
Some of my friends don’t understand how I can enjoy the club scene while generally avoiding substances, but after what I’ve gone through, I don’t want to touch those substances again.
I’ll have alcohol, sometimes, when I feel comfortable. But I no longer feel like I need it.
“What do you mean?” I ask, though I’m pretty sure I know what he’s going to say.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you rejected by someone,” Daniel says, tacitly adjusting his leather codpiece, which must be pinching.
“I’m sure I have.”
“Mm, I doubt it.”
I raise a finger. “Technically, he didn’t outright reject me. He took my number.”
“You’re not helping me believe that you’ve ever been rejected.”
“Fair point.”
“He was cute,” Daniel says.
That I can absolutely agree on. Tristan, whose last name I don’t yet know, is very cute.
Maybe a couple of years younger than me, he is several inches shorter than me, lean, but toned, and has boyish good looks.
Beyond that, though, there is something else that drew me to him.
Something in the way he looked around the club when he first walked in.
Like he is hungry for something he hasn’t yet experienced.
Something that I’m sure I’d be able to give him.
I chug the Red Bull. “I’ll close my tab, I think.”
“Already? You’re not going downstairs tonight?”
In my mind’s eye, I see Tristan walking out of the club, the glance he spared over his shoulder, which he clearly didn’t think I noticed. Oh, I noticed.
“No,” I say. “Not tonight.”
I can be patient.