I stomp my feet at the door and go inside anyway, holding up my phone as I slide onto a barstool. “Do you take contactless payment?”
“Yeah, sure, man,” the bartender says, nodding. “What’ll it be?”
I start to order a whiskey or a Manhattan, but there’s that damn nostalgia again, and I order a Coors Light. I crack a peanut from the bowl, pop it into my mouth.
The bartender hands me the bottle and brings the cardless reader over. “Want to start a tab?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, holding my phone up to the device.
He walks over to another customer, and I take a long pull, memories of high school washing over me. I’m halfway through my beer when I hear a familiar voice.
“Alex King. Is that you?”
I turn, a grin spreading across my face. Curtis Cunningham, my best friend from high school, is about ten feet away with a couple of guys I don’t recognize. He’s grinning ear to ear as he walks over to me. “How have you been, man? You look—” He looks me up and down.
“Yeah, don’t finish that sentence,” I cut in, holding up a hand. “It’s been a rough day.”
He gestures to the stool next to me with a questioning look.
“Please,” I say enthusiastically. “I’d love to catch up.”
He waves to his friends and tells them he’s going to stick around a little longer. They head out the door as he slides onto the stool.
“On a date?” I ask, my brow lifted.
He laughs. “Two guys would be a little ambitious for me. No, just a few friends.”
Phil, the bartender, walks over. “You want something else, Curt?”
“Yeah,” Curtis glances at the bottle in my hand. “Thanks, Phil. I’ll have what he’s having.”
“Sure thing,” Phil says, heading for the cooler.
“Put it on my tab,” I call after him.
Curtis makes a face. “You don’t have to do that, Alex.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say. “Think of it as me buying your company.”
He gives me a curious look. “Are you used to buying people’s company?”
I laugh. “I suppose I deserve that. No, it’s just—for all I know, you had other plans with your friends, and I’m making you stay longer.”
“We’re good,” Curtis says. “I’ve missed you, man.” He pauses and his voice softens. “It sucks we haven’t talked in years.”
He doesn’t outright say I’ve sucked as a friend, but he doesn’t have to. He’s been the one who’s made all the efforts to keep in contact. I’m the one who’s turned away everyone here in Hollybrook. Including him.
“I’m sorry, Curtis. It’s not personal. Life just keeps me busy.” Before he can call me on my bullshit, I say, “So, how’ve you been, man? What have you been up to?”
“Believe it or not, I’m teaching high school now,” he says with a laugh.
My eyes go wide. “You’re kidding! So now you wrangle the same terrorist students we used to be.”
He laughs wholeheartedly, and something in me goes hollow with homesickness. Curtis was the loyal one. The guy you could hang with, no drama. I realize I’ve missed him. Everything I’ve chased feels superficial. But Curtis is the same guy I’ve always known. He’s genuine and real.
Maybe that’s part of why I’m so drawn to Finley—she’s real too. No fronts, no artifice. What you see is what you get.
Curtis studies me, concern creasing his brow. “What just happened there? You look kind of sad.”
