Chapter Twenty-five #3
He’d asked me to extend a little grace around exactly this type of scenario. He had relationship trauma, and he was going to be messy. He’d probably cut and run if I didn’t assure him everything was copacetic. I’d already experienced that once.
So I did as he asked and took the high road.
“No, Evan. You definitely shouldn’t be jealous.” I touched his arm. “And if you are, you should tell me. Remember what we said about communicating?”
He breathed in and exhaled shakily, his body relaxing in a way that gave away how tense he’d been a moment before. “I’m sorry. It’s just that Kyan and I have some history, and I know what a player he can be.”
“He is that.” I laughed. “But he’s mostly harmless. And I wouldn’t do you like that.”
“So again, why are you here then?” He swallowed, like he was fighting against the vulnerability the question revealed, the importance of my reasons.
Words weren’t going to cut it. “Why don’t you come back inside with me. I’ll mix you a drink.”
“You’ll mix me a—” His eyes widened as understanding finally dawned. “You’re working here.”
“That’s literally what I told you from the start. Did you think I brought my laptop to a bar?”
“It made no sense, but you never told me you worked here.”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”
He ushered me toward the door. “Like someone who wants to see you in action.”
The crowd had thinned enough that entire tables were available, though littered with abandoned drinks and dirty plates. The party ladies were going strong.
“What’s your poison?” I asked as I slipped behind the bar.
Evan settled onto a stool. “Uh. What do you recommend?”
I waggled my eyebrows and grabbed a shaker, flipping it in the air like I’d practiced on countless slow nights. “I’m gonna make you my favorite drink.”
“Okay.” He rested his elbows on the bar, and I turned to scan the liquors until I landed on the Kraken.
“Dark rum,” I said, flashing it at him. “The best.”
I squatted to grab a ginger beer from the mini fridge, cracking it open as I stood.
Kyan handed me a glass, already prepped with crushed ice, and I mixed the drink, stealing glances at Evan to see if he was as fascinated as I was by the dark liquid swirling on top of the light, tendrils snaking down, like a rain cloud about to burst. I garnished it with a lime and slid it over.
“On the house.”
He lifted it with a quizzical look. “What’s it called?”
“Dark and Stormy,” I said, laughing as the perfection of the name hit me.
“Oh, is that supposed to be funny because I’m a weatherman?” He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
“Try it.” I bit my lip, nervous for some reason. He could always just not drink it, but I wanted him to like it.
“How do I—?” He stirred the stick around, blending the two liquids, and then took his first sip, eyes popping open at that first taste. “Oh, wow. That’s really tasty.”
A woman slid onto the open stool beside him. “What ya drinking?”
I was relieved she had no game. She hadn’t thought to pretend she knew him from high school. The unwarranted jealousy surprised me, especially after being on the other side. I recognized my own hardwired insecurities and reminded myself this woman was hitting on him, not the other way around.
As if to prove me right, Evan lifted the drink, like she actually cared what was in it. “Dark rum and ginger beer, I think. I bet Elizabeth could make you one if you want.”
Good boy. I’d worked at this bar a long time, and I knew what it looked like to shut someone down.
I grinned at the woman, putting my work face back on. “What can I get you?”
Kyan touched my shoulder, a sign to move so he could pass by. While Lucy and I made cocktails, he went to the back and returned with a tray filled with steaming glassware.
A tall blond guy in a rugby shirt leaned against the bar, shouting, “Hey, Kyan!”
Kyan glanced up but didn’t stop hanging wineglasses upside down. “Aidan! What’s up, my man?”
“Not much. Just passing by and wanted to check if we’re still on for Saturday.”
“For sure.” He stood up straight. “Hey, Aidan, you remember Evan, right?”
“Hey, didn’t I see you on the news?” Aidan dropped a hand on Evan’s shoulder, moving in for the bro hug.
Evan’s face clouded with confusion, and I wondered if he thought this would be a recurring prank. I looked on, absently replacing the Saran wrap over a metal container of pearl onions, waiting to see if he’d admit he didn’t remember Aidan—or if he’d go along like he had the night we met.
Kyan broke in before he had to commit either way. “Do you know Elizabeth?”
I held up a hand, not wanting to get into whatever this was. “I don’t think—”
“Just wondering since you’re both writers. Elizabeth Wright, Aidan Marshall.”
“Oh.” I gave Aidan a sheepish grin. I didn’t recognize the name, but for all I knew he’d won a Booker Prize or something. Now, I was the one in a position to play act. “I haven’t really—”
“I don’t think we’ve met. You have a great name for a writer,” he said, holding a hand out to me over the bar. “I run a local author group.”
“Seriously?” I stood frozen, his hand in mine forgotten for a moment as I processed his words. Was he inviting me? Join a writing group was on Chelsea’s list, not for her sake, but to encourage me to get involved in the community, or as she put it, my own kind.
“It’s pretty informal, but anyone who’s interested in writing would be welcome.”
I leaned against the bar, giving him my full attention now. Most men who offered mentorship didn’t pass the vibe check, but Aidan didn’t come across like a creep. “Sure. When do you meet up?”
“Sundays.” He took out his phone. “If you give me your contact info, I can shoot you the deets.”
I checked in with Kyan with a look, hoping he’d give me a sign if I should avoid this guy, but he just shrugged. “You should do it.”
“Okay.” I held out my hand for his phone. “Why not?”
Chelsea would be proud of me for taking another step out of my comfort zone. Plus another point for the list. France was looking more and more certain.
As I typed in my number, he said, “You ought to come to Kyan’s party on Saturday. It’s gonna be low key, but a bunch of us get together once a year...”
Kyan pointed at Evan. “Evan needs to be there. A lot of the old crowd comes back home for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes, say you’ll come,” Aidan agreed. “We play flag football, drink some brewskis, swap stories.”
Evan faked a smile. “Uh, yeah. Maybe. I’ll be busy moving, but I’ll see.”
Aidan thumped him once more on the shoulder. “Okay, well I hope to see you there.” He swiveled his head my way. “And you too, Elizabeth. Nice to meet you. Can’t wait to read your stuff.”
I held a hand up in a silent farewell, then shot a look at Evan, folding my lips together, suppressing laughter.
He met my expression with a head shake and an eye roll. “There’s a reason I haven’t been to any high school functions.”
“Not even a reunion?”
“Nope.” He drained his glass. “I probably should, but there are people I’d like to avoid.”
I recalled what he’d told me about bullies and mean girls, and I couldn’t blame him, but he seemed to have friends as well. He tolerated Kyan and Aidan fine. Maybe there were other people he’d want to reconnect with.
“If you want moral support,” I said, wiping a rag across the bar unnecessarily just to look busy, “I could go with you.”
Even though he hadn’t asked me out yet, I’d been hoping we’d spend our first free night together.
He stared at the ice in his glass, and I made myself swallow the nagging feeling he was trying to get out of a date we hadn’t even set.
Finally his eyes lifted to mine and he said, “Okay. I’d appreciate that, but we don’t have to stay. ”
“Maybe you could show me your furnished house later?” I whipped the rag out at him playfully, and that smile came back out.
“Now there’s something to look forward to.”
Lucy hollered, “Last call,” and the remaining patrons flagged waitresses or rushed the bar. For the next twenty minutes, the three of us worked in a frenzy.
“You want another?” I asked Evan, pointing at his empty glass.
“Nah.” He tilted his head. “Just enjoying the show.”
I shot him a cocky grin as I shook a whiskey sour like a tambourine. “Stay tuned for an encore.”
“Oh, I plan to.” He kept his eyes glued to me while I finished the one drink and moved on to another, and I loved his attention. Even though I was just mixing cocktails, I’d let my gaze drift over and linger, like this was a private room at a strip club.
At last, we started to break down the bar. “Don’t go anywhere,” I told him as I filled a tray with empty glasses.
He stayed while we stowed away perishables and wiped down the counter. At long last, we were free to go. I’d pocketed close to two hundred bucks in cash tips. The credit card tips would be divvied between us on our paychecks, but this would keep me flush with takeout and wine.
I grabbed my jacket from the back, waved goodnight to Kyan who was dragging the trash bags to the dumpster, then found Evan, leaning against the wall, waiting. Damn he looked incredibly sexy. I might lose my mind if I couldn’t touch him soon. Tonight.
“You ready?”
He took my hand and pulled me toward him. “I’ve been ready for hours.”
“Do you need to head back to Basil’s or…?”
“Or?” He brushed my hair from my temple and leaned in for a very light kiss, just a hint of his lips brushing mine, and yet it felt anything but chaste. “Definitely or.”
“You have no furniture, so would you like to revisit my place?”
He nodded. “I would very much like to revisit your place.”
Thank God. “Then follow me.”