Paging Dr. Steal-My-Ex #2
The place reeked of realness—grease, stale hops, and the perfume of kitchen fryer oil that clung to your skin and hair for days.
The front entrance led to a vestibule lined with framed Little League team photos and town landmarks.
Two pool tables took up the middle of the floor, one was perpetually broken and used as a makeshift buffet for the weekly dart league, but tonight both were in action.
A battered jukebox in the corner cycled through a playlist that had changed about as much as the décor in the last twenty years.
Behind the long warped bar, someone had strung up a dozen pink string lights and a cardboard Cupid with a half-deflated heart.
The bartender tonight was Callie. She stood barely five foot tall with a tattoo of a squid wrapping around her entire arm.
She pulled pints with the kind of precision that came from years of serving regulars who tipped in scratch-off tickets and polite threats.
My eyes automatically scanned the crowd.
It was a reflex, a rancher’s habit, or maybe just an old animal instinct to clock the room.
Over by the pool table, I spotted Sadie right away.
She was bent forward, lining up a tricky shot, and her hair spilled across her cheek as she squinted down the cue.
Just like the photo Damon sent me, Gio hovered behind her, offering enthusiastic advice about angles and spin, his hands pantomiming geometry in the air.
The first thing I noted was that Sadie’s laughter came quick and easy.
She laughed with her whole body, and when Gio said something, she let her head tip back, exposing that delicate line of her throat I used to love pressing my lips against. I knew I shouldn’t be jealous, but I was.
Jealous of the way she let herself be happy with none of the walls up she had around me.
My feet were cemented in place as I watched my ex and best friend, feeling something ugly and restless twist in my chest. I could turn around, leave before anyone noticed I was there.
I could get back in my truck and pretend like I didn’t care who she went home with tonight.
But that wasn’t true, and I didn’t want to be the kind of guy who lied to himself, not anymore.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing there when Damon materialized at my side and thrust a bottle of beer into my hand.
My younger brother had a built-in radar for dramatic tension, and he wore his delight like a badge of honor.
He took a healthy swig of Heineken, then leaned in close, lowering his voice with a conspiratorial smile.
“Three minutes, bro,” he said. “You break a land speed record on the way over?”
“I was already in town.” I tried to sound offhand, but Damon’s shit-eating grin told me he didn’t buy it, despite it being the truth.
He raised his eyebrows, watching me watch Sadie, then shook his head. “I can see it’s killing you. You plan on doing anything about that?”
I hated how transparent I was. I took a drink and made a point of looking anywhere but Sadie. “It’s fine. He’s harmless.”
“Harmless?” Damon nearly snorted beer out of his nose. “I realize Gio isn’t officially a ‘heartbreaker’ but he’s a doctor, he’s hot, and you know he went viral for his bedside manner. You ever read his DMs?”
I had, once, and it was a mistake I still regretted. “I’m not worried about Gio,” I lied.
Damon cocked his head at me. “Yeah, I can see you are the poster child of calm, cool, and collected.”
I ignored him as I headed toward the pool table. I didn’t give myself time to overthink it, just wove through the crowd, catching the familiar smells and snippets of conversation.
The closer I got, the more I noticed how Sadie’s presence changed the shape of the room.
I didn’t mean that in a poetic sense, I meant that people literally rearranged themselves around her.
Even the regulars at the bar kept glancing over, as if they expected her to start telling stories or solving their problems.
Sadie was chalking her cue, her focus laser-tight on the shot in front of her. Gio hovered just to the side, offering color commentary and smiling with that over-keen intensity of someone who has finally gotten an audience with the girl he’s been half in love with for decades.
I cleared my throat.
Sadie’s head snapped up. It wasn’t just surprise in her eyes, something raw flashed across her face before she composed herself. “Dawson, hi. I—I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, her voice not quite steady.
Gio just grinned, as if he’d expected me all along.
“Hey.” I lifted my chin. Part of me wanted to tell her that I’d been waiting for her call, but there was no point.
I searched for something—anything—neutral, and my mouth took over before my brain could catch up.
“How’s Buddy?” I asked, directing the question at Sadie, but she immediately looked to Gio to answer.
Gio, in full doctor mode, lined up his shot and reported, “He’s stable, considering.
He’s responding to the TPA and his numbers look better each day.
” He sank the seven-ball and reached for his beer.
“Still in the ICU, but the plan is to move him to step-down in the next couple days if the trend holds.”
“That’s good,” I said, and I meant it, but it came out with a gravelly edge that made Gio tilt his head.
Damon returned with a round of drinks so quickly, it was like he’d made a deal with Callie to get to the front of the line, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had.
He set down a pint in front of me, then handed a cocktail that looked like it belonged at a tiki bar to Sadie, and a whiskey neat for Gio.
“Hydration,” he said, eyes ping-ponging between us, “is the key to good sportsmanship.”
The two of us gathered at the rail near the pool tables, drinks in hand, as Gio and Sadie wrapped up the last few shots of their game.
Gio, ever the crowd-pleaser, put on a show of calling his pocket with an exaggerated point of his cue, then proceeded to miss entirely, which made Sadie laugh so hard she nearly knocked over her drink.
I could see the way she looked at him, fond, familiar, easy.
It burned, but I did my best to mask it with a sip of beer.
Damon leaned in, voice low. “You know, if you wanted to challenge him, now’s your chance. He’s too invested in impressing her to play defense.”
I shot him a look, but the truth was, I didn’t hate the idea. There was something gladiatorial about the way Gio tried to show off for her, as if the winner of the pool table earned some claim. I didn’t want to compete for Sadie, but I didn’t want to lose her without a fight, either.