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“Say please and you got yourself a deal.”
With a low growl and clenched teeth, he says, “Please.”
Grinning, I take his glass, put it in the sink for washing later and grab him a fresh one. After making his drink and checking on everyone else—closing out some tabs along the way—I go back over to him. “Now spill.”
For the next few minutes, he tells me about his ex from a few years ago that was really into the holiday season, leaving him on Christmas day after he poured his heart and proposed. I feel for him, I really do. Especially with cheating compounding it.
“I know I should have done better with paying attention to him. But he never said anything. I didn’t know anything was wrong.” His facial expression doesn’t betray the hurt in his voice. “Cheating was over the line.”
As delicately as I can, I ask, “Do you think he checked out of the relationship before he did anything physical? Like maybe he tried to tell you and you didn’t listen?”
He nods. “I thought about that. And that would be on me. But why not just end things?”
“Not arguing that,” I say. “I’m making no excuses for that.”
“That’s it?” His face is the picture of confusion.
I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah. What else should I say?”
My Scrooge shrugs. “I don’t know. I figured…” his voice trails off and I giggle, knowing what he was thinking.
“You figured since I’m an omega, I would take his side.”
To his credit, he looks slightly chastened. “Yeah, well…”
I let him off the hook. “Wrong is wrong, Scrooge. I don’t let my designation dictate what I agree with.”
“Andrew.”
“No, I’m Dylan,” I quip.
He gives me a dry look. “I’m Andrew.”
“Great to meet you.” I hold my hand out, but before we can shake, Bryce walks in. “Hey, bro. Didn’t expect to see you down here.” I walk over to him and throw an arm around his waist. “Meet my inspiration, Scrooge. Scrooge, this the other bar owner, Bryce.”
They shake hands and exchange pleasantries. I start to clean up, since the bar will be closing in about thirty minutes. When I get back to Andrew, he’s wrapping his scarf around his neck. Thinking about what Reese said, I go for it. “Hey. You need me to call you a cab?”
“No. I’m walking. I only live a few blocks away.”
“Okay. Wanna walk me home?”
He gives me the once over. “Fine.” He sits back down and unwraps the scarf from his neck. With shock I try to cover, I nod and get started on closing. I didn’t expect him to say yes, so I’m quiet as I clean so he won’t change his mind.
As I clean, I consider how I can rope him into helping me with my booth. Bryce just reminded me he wasn’t going to help. He reminds me pretty much every chance he gets, the loser. Scrooge looks like the type that will need some incentive. Like a dare or an ultimatum of sorts.
With an idea forming, I smile as I wrap up my closing duties. When I’m ready, I loop my scarf around my neck, zip up my jacket, and grab my bag.
“Ready,” I announce unnecessarily.
My Scrooge rounds the bar and opens the door for me, stepping aside so I can walk through. He might be holiday adverse, but he has manners.
We walk in silence for a few minutes and I’m getting a little panicky because I still don’t know exactly how I’ll rope him into helping when the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. Some kids must have been playing earlier and left a pile of snowballs near my building entrance. Smiling, I skip over to the pile and pick one up. Andrew stops short, holding up his hands. “Don’t,” he says in that growly voice he’s been using all evening.
“I won’t. You going to the parade next week?” I ask, tossing the snowball from one hand to the other.
“No. Not my thing.”
“Wanna help with my booth?”
