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How he kept giving me water. Okay, so that was probably just because he was a bartender, accustomed to giving refills. But it had felt a little like he cared.
The fact that I woke up from a dream about him where I was clutching at his thick shoulders, pressed against him as he ravaged me on top of his bar, was neither here nor there.
Odds were he wasn’t queer, and even if he was, I didn’t know why he would be into me. He was intense and hot, at least a decade older, owned his own business, and was friends with rock stars. I was broke, worked a job where I got food spilled on me, and had spent my formative years heating up SpaghettiOs and ironing sheets until I smelled like industrial bleach.
But even though we probably had very little in common, and even though he’d intimidated the hell out of me, I just liked him.
I wanted to see him again.
And there weren’t many people I got that instant vibe about. Usually, if Sof made friends I just hung out with them and didn’t give much thought to whether I’d choose them on my own.
Even the two people I’d dated since coming to New York had been more about being in the same place at the same time. Jimmy, who worked at Buggy’s for a while, had been blunt and bad at customer service, both at work and in our short-lived relationship, but we’d been attracted to each other and decided that meant we should date. Emil I’d met through one of Sofia’s friends at school, and he’d been a sweet guy, but it had just been a casual thing; neither of us put the effort into it we’d have needed to for it to last.
Most significant about Jimmy and Emil was the fact that I hadn’t cared much when the relationships ended. Neither relationship had been intimate or intense the way I’d always imagined romance should be, and though I’d wanted those things from them, I knew I hadn’t opened myself up to them either. It just hadn’t seemed worth it.
So, even if it was unlikely that anything romantic would come from paying Huey a visit, the fact that he’d been on my mind more than either of the guys I’d dated had to mean something. If nothing else, maybe he’d want to be friends. People could always use another friend, right?
Clinging tight to that premise, I went to the bar around six, thinking it might be quiet early in the evening, but when I got there I didn’t see Huey. I felt too awkward to ask for him, since we weren’t friends yet. Instead, I nursed my drink at the bar and decided I’d give it an hour, then either ask or leave.
It was strange being at a bar by myself and I considered popping in my earbuds and diving back into my book, but I knew I tended to have reactions to what I was hearing and I didn’t want to start talking to myself in public. So I watched people come in and order drinks and felt as if an invisible wall separated me from all of it; something that, if they tried to approach me or I tried to reach out, we would slam against like birds at a clean window.
The previous times I was here, I was happily trailing in Sofia’s wake, acting silly and singing with her. How had things changed so quickly? My stomach fluttered and my fingers trembled on my lap.
“Felix?”
I looked up to find Huey towering over me. He was even more massive than I remembered, with broad shoulders and a chest thick with muscle and biceps testing the limits of his T-shirt sleeves. His blue eyes were intense beneath dark brows.
“Hi,” I said. “Hey, Huey, hi.”
“Get you something else?” He jerked his chin at my glass of melting ice cubes.
“Oh, no thanks, I’m okay.”
He nodded. Then we just stared at each other and I realized I had no idea whatsoever how to ask someone out on a date—romantic or friendly. I doubted he was homophobic if he was good friends with Theo and his partner, but you never knew how people would respond when it came to their own shit. My eyes lingered on his forearms, as large around as my calves. What if I asked him out and he got upset and beat the shit out of me? Or got upset and somehow, through his friendship with Theo, ruined Sofia’s chances with Riven. What if he laughed at the idea of being my friend?
My heart was racing and I started to sweat. This. This was why I’d always let Sofia take the lead.
“Um.”
I couldn’t believe I’d come here. I couldn’t believe I was sitting in the bar of a near stranger trying to ask him if he wanted to be friends like I was seven years old. Jesus Christ, what was I doing? Sofia was the friendly one. Sofia was the one who approached people and charmed them at bars. Sofia was the one who invited people over to our apartment saying, “You’ll like so-and-so,” like my own personal friend matchmaker.
