There were still no messages after ten more minutes passed. Shit. Did he think I stood him up? My mind raced, thinking about the messages we had exchanged. The timing. The place. Did I get it right? Maybe he was stuck in traffic downtown?
My stomach grumbled and my ego deflated with each ignored message and passing minute. I sent five messages.
He’d obviously not shown up, or he thought I didn’t and then left. He could’ve at least messaged me to say I’d blown my chance with him or something. That was better than silence. I ordered a plate of wings and another drink to wash them down.
It was time to face it.
I had been stood up.
CHAPTER 7
APRIL
Forty minutes later, I was tipsy. Embarrassed and deep into my fourth drink, phone clutched in my hand, still hoping he’d gotten lost or his phone died.
That vodka was a double-edged sword. It was enough to take the edge off, but not enough to forget all the things I wanted to. Including how humiliated I felt. The wings were long since demolished and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. The messages that I had sent had been ignored. It was nothing short of a reminder of why I didn’t go for guys like that. It led to disappointment.
The obnoxious door chime went off, and I swung around on my stool to check the door, yet again. Josh and Kev waltzed in. They had changed out of their suits into casual jeans and t-shirts. Josh in a soft-grey shirt and Kev in an old-school Jurassic Park shirt. They both had their ball caps down low to hide their faces, but I knew them. Fuck me. They glanced around the place, spotting me.
As if I couldn’t feel any more pathetic. I turned back around on my stool and ordered my fifth drink. Wishing I could hide under the bartop, so they couldn’t see me sitting alone with the waitstaff shooting me pity stares. They figuredout by the third drink and the clutched phone, what was happening. On the plus side, the service improved.
But they saw.
I watched as they waltzed right across the place and over to me.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I gave a fake smile and pretended like I wasn’t being stood up.
Josh’s brows knitted together as he glanced around. No doubt searching for my date. It looked like he was about to ask, but decided against it. It wasn’t rocket science. I was at the bar alone, drinking.
“Mind if we join?” he asked, shooting me a pitying glance.
“Yes,” I muttered into my glass. It wasn’t their fault, but I had been gloat-y earlier when I told Josh about having somewhere to be. Yet, here I was, stood up. It was a lesson in learning to keep my mouth shut. Nothing was working out for me.
Kev pursed his lips together like he was going to protest.
“If you change your mind, we’ll be right over there.” Josh pointed to a small booth off to the right of us.
Why did that make me feel worse? I gulped down the remnants of my drink.
It took all of my energy not to watch them, even though I could feel Josh’s eyes on the back of my head. I refused, still holding a glimmer of hope my date would run through the doors apologizing profusely. But that was just wishful thinking, because the longer I waited, the more my gut sunk. I didn’t think the night could get any worse until I glanced up from wiping some drink from my chin and caught Josh, of all people, watching me. He fought a smile while waving me over, but I ignored him. When I stood up to go to the bathroom, my damn wedge heel got caught in the stool footrest, and I almost toppled over. It didn’t help my self-esteem to hear the group next to me laugh and make snide comments.
Josh snaked his arms around me as I tried to stand. When the hell did he get here? He was just sitting at his table.
“How did you.” Hiccup. “Get here so fast?”
He ignored my question. “You’re joining us.”
Holding me upright with his right hand against my hip, he tried to untwist my throbbing foot with his left. I swatted at him, but he wouldn’t listen. “No really, that was some Edward Cullen-type shit.”
“Jesus. You’re stubborn,” he groaned. His forehead creased as he eyed my empty glass sitting on top of the bar. “You nearly toppled off the stool trying to stand. How many have you had?”
“Never mind.” Indignantly, I scoffed in denial. “I’m fine,” I lied.
He knew me too well, but he wasn’t prying. Josh held me tighter to him and damnit if it didn’t feel good. He smelled fantastic, too. A mix of some manly-scented soap and his cologne. Somehow, they blended together creating a fusion of something entirely sexy. His hands gripped my hips as he led me toward his table, despite my feeble attempts to refuse. He simply turned his cheek toward me and gave me a cute grin that was both sexy and cocky.
As I signaled the bartenders that I was moving to a table, not running away, I didn’t miss the raised eyebrows and wide grins as if congrats were in order. He was not my date, I wanted to say, but Josh also had seen the grins from the staff, who had pitied me a moment ago, and winked at them.
