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He nods, grabbing a glass and holding it at a tilt under the tap, and the sight of the foam forming a head on the beer makes me feel more like myself.Maybe it’s just the isolation we’ve been living in that’s making me think that I’m in love with her. Maybe the real me is still in here somewhere. The me who doesn’t fall in love and isn’t afraid to touch a fucking woman.
Even as I think it, another part of my mind asks me why I’m fighting this so hard when I already know it’s true. I sigh, letting the two sides of my brain go to war while I focus on the cold beer once it’s in my hand and the burn of the bubbles as I take my first long sip. I toss back the shot when the bartender hands it over, groaning at the familiar raze of the tequila as it travels down my throat.
“What’s got you looking so glum?” a voice asks beside me, and when I glance over, I see a guy around my own age sinking down on the stool next to mine.
Used to strangers talking to me out of the blue, I shrug and chuckle. “Is it really that obvious?”
“That you’re glum?” He scoffs, fakes a wince, then nods with an apologetic grin breaking out across his lips. “Yeah, it kinda is. Want to talk about it?”
“Nah. I’d prefer to drink over it,” I say as he motions to the barkeep for another round and tells him that he’ll have what I’m having.
I’ve always had a face that invites people to talk to me. Maxim gives off “fuck off” vibes while I give off whatever the extreme opposite is. I’ve never really minded it, though. In fact, it’s always served me well. I like people, and I like meeting new ones. One of my mottos is that a stranger is only a friend you haven’t met yet, and since it’s been so fucking long since I’ve spoken to anyone new, I welcome the distraction of making a new friend right now.
Although, it doesn’t really look like he’s interested in talking to me anymore. The barkeep has handed over his drinks, and now he’s nursing them quietly, not having said another word. But fuck it, he opened the lines of communication, probably only as one of those icebreakers when you’re sitting next to someone at a bar—actually, that’s exactly what it was—but when you talk to me, especially while I’m drinking, you better be ready to keep doing it.
“Where are you from?” I ask my new friend—because he’s going to be my friend whether he wants or not. I need a distraction, and he walked into the wrong bar if he wanted to get drunk alone.
He blinks hard, frowning before he lets out a slightly frustrated huff of air and slowly turns toward me. “Originally? Ohio.”
Without returning the question, he goes back to his drink.
Sorry, friend, not today. My mind needs off of Olivia and all the bullshit in my life right now, and what’s more freeing than talking to a stranger in a bar?
If you’re me, there’s not much like it. “What brings you all the way over here?”
He sighs, but eventually, he seems to accept that I’m not going to leave him alone. “Backpacking. You?”
I grin. “Work. Can I buy you another round? I don’t really feel like drinking alone today.”
He doesn’t take me up on my offer immediately, his lips pursing before he eventually nods. “Sure, why not? I thought you didn’t want to talk about it, though.”
“There’s plenty of other stuff to talk about.” I drain my beer in one long gulp, motioning to the bartender for more when I catch his eye just as I’m done downing. “Besides, it’s been a long-ass fucking time since I’ve just been myself, and this seems like as good a time as any to get back to being me.”
“I know what you mean,” he muses, then extends his hand toward me. “I’m Justin. And I know it’s a pleasure to meet me,” he jokes.
I laugh. “Vincent, and the pleasure is all yours.”
When he finally cracks a smile as we shake, relief courses through me.God, it really does feel good to be out among regular people again.
19
VINCENT
“Jesus, are you serious?” I ask Justin, laughing so hard that I nearly fall off my stool.Well, it’s either the laughter or all the alcohol, but this dude is funny. “That’s awesome. I can’t believe you paid to get flogged, butt naked, by a Russian woman and then have a bucket of ice water dumped over your head in a sauna.”
“It wasn’t supposed to go quite like that.” He chuckles, shrugging as he tosses back his next shot. “The banya has been part of Russian life for over a thousand years. It’s supposed to be great for your health and improve your immune system, so I’m pretty sure I got scammed and paid to be beaten by branches while butt naked, yes.”
“I thought I was the king of crazy travel stories, but you’ve got me beat.” I bow my head and raise my glass. “Congratulations, dear sir. You’ve had some crazier experiences than even I have. Although, have you tried peeing in a bottle on a moving bus? Because I have had to do that.”
“There was no bathroom on the bus?”
I shrug. “It was taken, and my fucking sister refused to shower faster, so I did what I had to do. It was either that or go out the window, and my brother said it wasn’t a good idea to do that, so I grabbed his water bottle instead.”
“I once puked on a ferry in Egypt,” he admits, motioning to the bartender for yet another round. “I was sitting right at the front of the top deck, and I was so hungover that I didn’t realize just how much the wind was blowing. I ran to the side, but wind and chunks don’t go well together.”
I flinch, laughing as I shake my head at him. “Where haven’t you been, man? Egypt? Even I’ve only been there once.”
He grins, but it’s a little duller this time. Although, my vision is slowly starting to blur from all the shots he keeps buying, so it’s possible that I’m not really seeing what I think I am. “I’ve been around. It’s hard for me to sit still.”
