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Bryn dispenses with the straw in his glass and takes a huge gulp of his drink. “Why not?”
“Umm. He screwed my best friend behind my back and then moved in with her. I think he’s off my list of potential life partners.”
“How long were you together?”
“Four years.”
“That’s a long time, Avery, especially at your age.”
“Exactly, I think that’s why we fell apart. We grew up and changed.”
“Yeah, but it must’ve been something special.”
“Evidently not.”
Bryn finishes his drink and indicates my barely touched multi-coloured concoction. “Keep up.”
“No.”
Shaking his head, he picks up the menu and wanders back to the bar, returning several minutes later with another two small glasses. He places one, a brown drink, in front of me. “You can tell everyone a rock star gave you a Screaming Orgasm.”
“Jesus, Bryn…” Despite the childish obviousness of his comment, heat spreads from my scalp to my toes.
“What? Don’t you like them?” He bites the corner of his lip. “The drink I mean.”
“Of course, that’s what you mean.” I attempt to sound firm and not squeaky. Hoping it’s too dark for him to see my red cheeks, I focus on my current drink.Jeez, this is strong.
“As I was saying,” says Bryn, starting on his next drink, “you and Martin had something special.”
“Once over, I guess.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Don’t you think that’s worth fighting for? If you guys are meant to be, you’ll come back to each other.”
“Yeah, right. If he cheated once, he’ll do it again.” I pause. “Why all the interest in my love life?”
“I believe if two people are meant to be together that, whatever happens, they will be.”
How drunk is he? “If you believe in that fate crap.”
“Liam and Cerys—happened to them.”
I read the story, childhood friends turned lovers years later, or something. I bet the fact he was the rich and famous Liam Oliver helped.
“I don’t think me and Martin are meant to be together.” Bryn’s constant harping on about my failed relationship isn’t helping the sick feeling caused by Taylor’s performance this evening.
I should numb that.
I finish the orange and red drink, pick up the smaller glass, and pull a face at the contrast in taste. Bryn laughs at me and opens his mouth to say something. I throw the discarded paper umbrella in his direction. “One more reference to screaming orgasms or blow jobs and I’m leaving.”
“I wasn’t going to say a word.” Bryn picks up the umbrella and tucks it into his hair, just above his ear.
“Liar.”
We share a smile. Maybe it’s the alcohol that led me to forgive him or maybe the attraction increasing with my fuzziness.
Is he trying to get me drunk? I set the glass back down. Bryn waves over my shoulder at the whispering girls nearby. No, why would he need to when he has a ready choice of girls he wouldn’t need to persuade?
“What about you?” I ask him. “Is there someone you’re meant to be with—a long lost girl from the past?”
