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“Hey, gorgeous.” His voice flows over me like warm honey trying to get me to succumb – to give in to his sweetness.
“Hey.” I smile slowly.
“Back already for a visit?”
“Actually,” I start, looking down nervously. “I moved here.”
“What?” His response has me looking back up at him, and he’s looking at me weird. A mix of confusion, skepticism, and maybe a little weariness, all etched on his face.
“Yeah. I took a job with Dr. Taylor.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I repeat, my brows coming together in confusion. He’s acting like me moving here is offensive to him.
Taking a towel from his back pocket, Alex wipes down the bar area between us and then takes a step back. “What do you want to drink? I already know what they want.” He raises his chin towards our table to indicate Ally and Ashley, but I keep my eyes on him.
Why is he being weird?
“I’ll have a glass of wine. Rosé.”
Nodding, he pours me a glass of Whispering Angel, and then proceeds to make a gin and tonic for Ally, and a Jack and coke for Ashley.
“First round is on me,” he says, not even looking at me as he moves on to the girl next to me. For her, he smiles wide, blinding her with his charms, and she stutters before telling him what she wants.
Um, what?
So, he doesn’t want me anymore?
That’s fine, I guess.
I moved here for–
Wait. Oh my god. Does he think I moved here for him or something? That’d be crazy.I’dbe crazy to do that. Maybe he thinks I’m some crazy person, thinking that after one dance and him saying he wants to sleep with me, that’d I’d assume that means something significant.
Sighing, I find a way to hold all three glasses in my hands, and walk back over to our table.
“He thinks I’m crazy,” I announce, plopping down on my chair.
“What?”
“He thinks I’m crazy. I told him I moved here, that I’m not just here for a visit, and he got all weird after that.”
“And you think he thinks you moved here for him?”
“I don’t know, maybe? That’d be freaking crazy of me if I did. Which I didn’t,” I tell them sternly when they start to make faces.
“We know,” Ally says. “We’re just messing around. He’s just sonotwhat you usually go for. But I think he’d be good for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively.
“Oh my god, nothing, Mel,” Ash says, rolling her eyes. “Just drink your wine and relax. I’ll get the next round.”
Chugging my glass in less than ten seconds, I lean back in my chair and look around the bar, taking inventory of the neon signs and rusty anchors on the walls.
This place is both nice and dive bar-y at the same time. It’s very ‘locals only’, and I love it.
The sound of a glass hitting the table startles me from my thoughts. “Alright, here you go,” Ash says, sliding another rosé towards me.
