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Someone bumped up against Maggie’s back. She turned to ask for a little space, only to come smack up against a familiar chest.
“Mac.” She stared at a spot between his pectoral muscles.
“Sorry I bumped you.”
“It’s crowded here.” Someone jostled into Mac again, sending him a fraction of an inch closer.
Mac raised his arm to steady himself on the bar, his hand almost touching the sliver of skin above her skirt as he brought it past her waist to cage her in.
“I just wanted—” He shook his head, dislodging the correct words. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, but once I saw you—I just needed—”
Maggie tilted her head to snag the eye contact he was avoiding. “Did you come over here just to check on me?”
He looked away.
“Thank you,” Maggie said and laid her hand on the forearm next to her. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips. Even over the din of the bar, Maggie heard Mac suck in a sharp inhale. His arm shifted under her touch until it pressed against her waist, his fingers still wrapped around the curved edge of the bar.
“I’m here if you need me. I mean anything. If you need anything. I just wanted you to know.”
Maggie smiled up at Mac. Underneath the facial hair and the scowl, he was probably the sweetest man she’d ever known.
“I’m sorry about the tournament.”
Mac frowned, confusion wrinkling his forehead.
“I know they don’t really take breaks, just keep playing, so you must’ve lost a round if you can be out here with me,” Maggie explained.
“It’s fine.” Mac pushed his body back from the bar. The arm he’d been leaning on skated along her side, his hand squeezing her hip before he dropped it the rest of the way.
“I’ll let you get back to it,” Maggie said and smiled up into his handsome face.
He motioned towards the bartender.
“I’ll have a Coke,” Mac told him before turning his focus back on Maggie. The bartender looked at her, too.
“Oh. A Rainbow Road.” Maggie smiled. “Thank you.”
The bartender returned with a fountain drink and a martini glass layer with a rainbow of colored liquors. This was definitely going to be Maggie’s last one for the night. Mac fished his wallet out of his back pocket and handed his credit card to the man behind the bar.
“You didn’t have to pay for my drink,” Maggie said.
“I’ve got you. Just find me if you need me, yeah?” Mac said and then he took his soda and headed back into the cheering and booing from the tournament room.
Maggie slipped away from the bar to find Shay at one of the pinball machines. Her friend was practically a pinball professional. They hit buttons and levers that kept the little ball in play and the lights flashing while Maggie sipped the sweet drink in her hand. Pulling her phone from her tiny backpack, Maggie decided it was time to text Dean. The blood in her veins felt bubbly, like someone had popped a champagne bottle into her circulatory system, and she was fighting back the urge to smile at almost everything.
Maggie:
Hey Babbyyy, what are you up to?
Shit, were those too many letters? Who cared? The point got across. A minute went by with no answer. Not even the three little dots to show that Dean was typing anything back. She could give him a few more minutes. Shay’s ball dropped and their game ended.
Maggie:
Shay and I are at The Dark Side having funnnnn.
Thirty minutes later, Maggie had another brightly colored drink clutched in her hand and she still hadn’t heard from her fake boyfriend. She supposed it wasn’t his fault. She hadn’t given him any sort of warning that she’d need him tonight. To be honest, she had just assumed he’d be free since dating other people was off the table until their tryst resolved itself. The drink from Shay had a name Maggie couldn’t remember, not even the fandom it belonged to, but there was cotton candy in it. It tasted like pure sugar, and she was enjoying each sip.
Shay had found a friend, so Maggie was finishing up her drink and swaying to the early 2000s punk music the sound system pumped out over the small dance space. Maggie let her hips rock with the beat, and she mouthed the familiar words into her drink. She checked her phone again, but still no message from her elusive fake boyfriend. Her last message shone back up at her. No dots, no reply, and probably no Dean riding in to rescue her like Gandalf leading the Riders of Rohan into the Battle of Helm’s Deep.
