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“I guess you could call it that, yes. We were standing very close to one another. I thought about kissing him, but I didn't.”
Mags groans. “What a bummer…”
“We were at work,” I point out. “My head has been a mess with everything, and I had to get to my shift, and if anybody had walked in on us-—”
“I get it,” Mags says. “So then what happened?”
“I worked my shift and caught him looking at me a few times, but that's normal.” We both laugh at my little joke. I’m more than aware that Griffin is into me. And for a while I was into the idea of him. But reality has a way of reminding me why I can’t have a relationship.
As her laughter tapers off, I watch the sun on the snow. It’s melting fast, and it's so pretty before everyone drives all over it and turns it into dirty slush.
“Okay,” Mags says. “Sorry. I just know he's into you, so it makes sense that he stares at you at work all the time.”
“He doesn't stare at me at work all the time.” My face gets hot. “Like, there have been a few times when there's?—”
“Tension?” Mags says with a laugh in her voice.
“Fine. Yes. But it's not like he spends all day watching me. He's professional. I'm professional.”
A gust of wind blows across my lone living room window, making a soft rattling sound. It's not snowing anymore, and I bet what's on the ground will be gone by tomorrow.
“Back to last night, then. You screwed up being professional?”
“Kind of?” I bite my lip, thinking of how to tell her the story, which usually means I'm overthinking it. “Griffin was thinking we should close the bar early because of the snow. You know how people are. It was empty. Nobody wanted to drive.”
“I didn't want to drive,” Mags says.
“We figured nobody else would be coming in. So we closed the place up, and I went to the back room to get my stuff, and when I came out, he was standing there.”
The way Griffin looked at me still gives me the good kind of shivers. I have to close my eyes at the memory. I just wanted to feel for a moment what it would be like. My head pounds with last night’s mistake and Mags gets impatient.
“Is that when you finally made out with him?”
It's my turn to laugh. “No. He asked me if I wanted him to drive me home, and I said no, that kind of thing, and then he said...you look like you want to kiss me.”
“Because you did want to kiss him.”
“Yeah, and nobody can blame me.” I tip my head back on the arm of the couch and close my eyes. “My best friend isn't going to blame me, I hope.”
“I could never blame you,” Mags says earnestly. “He's good looking. I'm allowed to say that because it's objectively true.”
“So then I kissed him.” My heart races at the memories of how quickly the kiss had turned passionate, like we both knew we'd only have the one chance. It seemed almost like a spell that would be over the second we left the bar. “And then some.”
Mags squeals so loud that I have to hold the phone away from my ear.
“Oh my God, Renee.” I can almost see her with her hand on her chest and her face all red from being so excited for me. “Finally.”
I'm not sure what to say to that, but I can't say nothing to Mags. She always knows when I'm staying quiet because I'm conflicted.
“Renee,” she says, quieter. “Did you not have a good time?”
“I had a great time.” I let out a groan. “I just don't know if...” I can’t finish but luckily Mags takes over with an interrogation.
“Well, if you didn't have a bad time—are you telling me you did it, like, in the office? Or?—”
“On the bar,” I say in a small voice.
“That's so hot,” Mags whispers. “I can't believe you went for it…like went for it.”
