Chapter 7
ALEX
I come home to my wi-fi being out. I text Roger, but get no reply.
Shit, I wanted to watch the Red Sox game.
I don’t care for sports in general, but my parents and I never missed a game, and it was one of the few things I got to keep when Danny came into my life. I know there’s a divey sports bar a few minutes away, so I walk there and feel relieved that they have the game on.
It’s dingy but warm inside, and I sit at the bar and order the first beer I recognize, grateful that the bartender doesn’t even ask for my ID.
I sip my beer slowly, looking over the scores at the bottom of the fourth.
I relax into watching the game and enjoying the hum of conversation and the tinny sound of the electronic slot machines in the corner.
I’ve never been to a sports bar alone before, and even after months of being on my own, I still get a rush whenever I do something new.
About ten minutes into the fifth inning, a tall man in a red flannel shirt slips into the seat next to me. I stiffen slightly, shooting a quick glance his way.
“Is this seat taken?” His voice is low and friendly, and my cheeks heat the longer I look at him. There are plenty of other seats open along the bar, but he’s cute, so I shake my head. I turn away, taking a quick sip of my beer and trying hard to focus back on the game.
Interacting with men I find attractive hasn’t gotten easier yet. I’m still expecting to get yelled at if I look at them for too long or seem too interested in what they’re talking about, so I usually avoid them.
The guy orders a shot and a beer, and we sit silently, watching the game.
I watch his long fingers curl loosely around the half-empty shot glass, spinning it absently, and I can’t help but sneak a few glances up at him.
He’s got a sharp jaw and dark, wavy hair that falls over his forehead and curls around his ears, and his eyes crinkle at the corners a little as he flashes me a quick smile when he catches me looking at him.
Fuck, he’s really cute.
I look back at the TV, and he turns his head towards me just a bit, his eyes still glued to the game.
“You an Orioles fan?”
I snort. “No, I actually like baseball.”
He laughs. “Wow, harsh. You from Boston?”
I sip my beer, trying to keep calm. I don’t think my accent is strong enough to peg me, but it’s undeniably present. Hopefully, he’s from here and won’t know better.
“Maine, actually, but I like to think I have good taste,” I say, smiling, glancing at him but trying not to make eye contact. He smiles back at me and taps his beer can against my bottle of Coors Lite.
“Not if you’re drinking that, you don’t,” he says, his tone warm and amused. Are we flirting? There’s no reason we couldn’t be. I blush and look at the tall can in his hand with a large red R on it.
“That’s better?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.” I’m pretty sure we’re flirting.
“Mmm, I think it’s better, but they’re both fucking terrible,” he says, rolling his eyes and chuckling.
“Then why are you drinking it?”
He shrugs. “I’m thirsty, and I think it legally counts as water.
” I laugh and look away as the game comes back on.
When I finish my beer, I order a vodka soda, and he orders another shot and a beer, and we chat a little bit, mainly about the game.
I try not to make eye contact or look at him too directly out of habit, but I want to.
When the game is over, I throw cash down on the bar and walk away to use the bathroom before I head home.
The flirting was exciting, but that’s enough for me tonight.
I probably don’t need to think about men right now, anyway.
The guy leaves at the same time I do, holding the door open for me when he notices I’m right behind him.
“I’m Theo,” he says, sticking his hand out as we leave the bar. His hand is large and callused and warm around mine.
“Alex,” I say. I start walking up the street and he keeps step with me.
“So, what part of Maine are you from?”
“Bangor.”
“Is Stephen King required reading in schools there?”
“Oh, totally. I did my fourth-grade book report on The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon.” That’s not even a lie.
He whistles softly. “Deep cut. You do a lot of hiking since fourth grade?” I giggle, glancing up at him.
“I haven’t hiked alone since.” He laughs, shooting me an amused look in return.
“Makes sense, if that’s your frame of reference. How long have you been out here?” How many questions he’s asking me is making me nervous, so I focus on turning them back on him.
“Oh, um, I moved here for a job a few months ago. Are you from here?”
He nods. “Mostly, yeah. Do you like it out here so far?”
I hum in agreement, shielding my eyes against the headlights of an oncoming car by looking up at him. “It’s great, actually. So, what do you do?”
He shrugs. “Nothing interesting. You?”
“I’m a receptionist, so I mostly just drink coffee and do crosswords.”
“That sounds like a perfect day, although I’d prefer to do those things in bed.”
“Even the billing emails?”
“Oh, especially those,” he says, shooting me a sly smile.
I blush, looking away from him quickly. I have no idea what to say to that, so I just hum a little and nod.
We’re approaching the street I need to turn down, and my heart starts racing as he slows down when we approach the intersection.
Is he following me home? We’re probably just walking in the same direction.
Bailey loves true crime and keeps telling me horror stories because she’s worried about the fact that I live alone, and it’s making me anxious.
Theo slows to a halt, jerking his chin up the street.
“I turn here. Do you want me to walk you home? It’s pretty late.”
“Oh, um, no thanks. I’m right there.” I give him a tight smile as I hook my thumb over my shoulder, indicating the big apartment complex a few blocks down. I’m being paranoid, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. His face is blank for a moment before he smiles.
“Cool. Get home safe, okay?”
“Yeah, you too.” He looks me up and down with interest, and my stomach flips at the slight smirk he gives me before he turns away.
“See you around,” he calls, waving as he walks up the street.
I turn and keep walking towards the apartments in the distance, sighing in relief when I look back and he’s nowhere to be seen.
I shake my head at myself and turn up the next street, doubling back towards my apartment.
I was absolutely being paranoid. He was just being friendly, and possibly trying to get laid based on the look he gave me.
I sit on the couch and put on a movie at random, but I barely pay attention to it.
I’m too distracted thinking about what would have happened if I’d invited that guy home.
I’ve only ever slept with Danny, and I’ve never had casual sex, so I don’t even know what that would be like.
Thinking about being vulnerable like that with a stranger makes me nervous, but it’s also exciting.
It feels more and more like there’s a real possibility that I could start dating someone at some point when I’m ready.
Having someone be so openly interested in me and flirting without making a total fool out of myself felt nice, so maybe casual dating would be nice.
Maybe casual sex would be nice, too.
When I crawl into bed that night, I grab my vibrator and think about the guy from the bar.
God, I hope I see him again.