by J. Saman
“Are you a nurse too?” he asks looking down at her tits like he’s picturing her in a slutty nurse’s outfit. Nice Mike. Real classy.
“Um. Yeah,” she says flatly. The bartender places our shots in front of us with a small glass of limes and a salt shaker.
“You want something?” Badass bartender chick asks him.
“Sure. Give me one of what my girl here is drinking.” My girl? I roll my eyes, knowing he’s not looking, and I hear Amara snicker beside me.
“You got it,” she says, throwing me a sympathetic look.
“So, Lara,” he starts, turning back to face me. “You look good, baby doll. What have you been up to?” he asks my breasts.
“Thanks,” is all I say, annoyed by his leering and close proximity.
He leans in even closer, making me back up even further, to the point where I’m in danger of falling off the stool, or sitting in Amara’s lap. “You wanna go someplace quiet so we can catch up?” For real? Who asks shit like that?
“Nope. I’m good here.” Badass bartender chick places his glass in front of him and the three of us lift them together.
“Happy birthday, bitch,” Amara says, making me laugh before I throw the whole thing down the back of my throat. No salt needed. It burns something fierce, and I grab a lime, sucking on it to ease the fire.
I feel a hand on my thigh slowly climbing higher, working its way inside. I freeze.
“Hey, Lara. Sorry I’m so late getting back to you,” Levi’s voice comes through behind me before I can react to Mike’s overly eager hand. Levi places his hand on my shoulder possessively.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me here, dude? I’m clearly talking with Lara, so go back over there to your little group of friends, doctor,” Mike sneers with a slight slur, which tells me he’s already had a few before he got here. That and the unmistakable cadence of pissed off.
“Sorry man, but I promised Lara here I’d take her for a walk,” Levi says, in the same arrogant tone he’d used eight years ago when he delivered a similar line to an overly friendly Mike at Caleb’s party.
I can’t help it. I laugh.
“Fuck off, Levi. You had your turn with her, and you screwed it up. Why you’re even here I don’t know, but it’s not happening again.” Mike turns his body towards Levi, but leaves his hand planted on my thigh. There is no mistaking Mike’s aggressive stance or his thinly veiled threat.
“Mike. Please,” I say, trying to pry his hand off my thigh, hoping this doesn’t turn into a fight. I look nervously between both men who are in some sort of stare-off. Levi is taller than Mike—and from what I saw a few weeks ago, clearly works out—but Mike is built.
What he lacks in height he makes up for in muscle.
I feel Amara’s hand on my upper arm, ready to pull me back if things turn in a bad direction. She gives a little squeeze and I shift myself back in her direction. “Yo, Mike. You starting shit with my boy here?” Caleb asks, casual as you please, smacking Levi on the back in some weird male gesture of showing who’s side he’s on without having to say it.
“I’m not starting anything. Your boy here,” he emphasizes snidely, “came up and started shit with me. I was just talking to Lara, and he felt he needed to cut in for old time’s sake.”
“You do know that Lara is engaged, right, Mike?” Caleb says, and I wince before I can catch myself.
“Bullshit dude, there is no ring on her finger. That makes her fair fucking game.” They’re talking about me like I’m not even here.
It’s starting to grate on me.
“I have a ring, Mike,” I say, finally prying his hand from my leg. “It’s a bit too big for everyday wear, if you know what I mean.” Neither of these things is a lie. “Anyway. This is super funsies, but—”
“Who the hell are you engaged to? Because I know it’s not this guy,” Mike interrupts, pointing a wobbly finger in Levi’s direction.
I roll my eyes, knowing Mike’s are still firmly affixed to Levi, who is smirking at him like this is all really amusing.
“His name is Tom. He’s in London.”
Mike finally turns his drunken eyes to me and when he sees that I’m not totally full of shit, he steps back a little, giving me a hard glare. “Whatever, you’re not worth this shit. I’m outta here,” he says gruffly, pink tinting his cheeks. Pushing through Levi a bit harder than he needs to, he storms off toward the door.
“Thanks guys. Baby Mike really never learned boundaries,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
“What a dick. It’s a good thing he doesn’t know you’re not engaged anymore, otherwise I’d be willing to bet shit would have gotten real. That guy looked like he was after a fight,” Amara chimes in, and I want to strangle her. She knows exactly what she’s doing and what she’s saying.
Levi tenses in front of me, his eyes snapping from Amara to me in a flash. “What?” he asks, perplexed. “Did she just say that you’re not engaged anymore?” He points an angry finger at me that I’m really tempted to swat away.
I look over my shoulder, pursing my lips at a brightly smiling Amara. “Well, my work here is done.” She hops off her stool, offering Levi her seat by sweeping her hand across her body like Vanna fucking White. “Have a seat, Levi. Buy my girl another round. I think both of you could use it.”
Caleb snorts. He’s also sporting big wide smile. He nudges Levi towards Amara’s recently vacated seat.
I turn back to Amara, shaking my head and leveling her with my eyes. “You’re such a cunt. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but you love me,” she flippantly waves me off. “Come on, Caleb. You can bore the shit out of me by telling me all about your job.” He laughs, taking her offered arm and shoving Levi the rest of the way to the stool.
Levi sits down, but doesn’t look at me. He’s staring forward, seemingly deep in thought. Badass bartender chick comes back around and I point at my glass, holding up fingers to indicate two more. She nods, grabs the bottle and pours us two fresh doubles before sauntering off.
Damn, I sort of wish I was awesome enough to rock ink like that. I’m so not, though.
“Do you have any tattoos?” I ask him as I think about what I would have done on me. Maybe something on my wrist, but I think I’m more of a nose ring girl.
“What?”
I nod my head towards badass bartender chick who’s a few feet away. “Tattoos. You got any?” I don’t remember seeing any on his chest.
“Um. Yes. One. On my back.”
“Of what?” I ask curious, looking at his back like I’ll be able to see it through his shirt.
A small smile is pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’ll show you sometime.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.” I pick up my glass, Levi doing the same. We don’t clink glasses or say cheers or anything, we just toss back the drinks and I feel it the second it hits my stomach. I need food or I’m going to be sick in the not too distant future.
“Can I get an order of nachos with the sour cream and guacamole on the side, please?” I ask badass bartender chick after I catch her eye.
“Sure, I’ll put that in now for you. Do you want chicken or beef on them, or just vegetarian?”
“Chicken, please. Oh, and some water, and a margarita on the rocks with no salt.” I throw out in rapid succession.
She nods. “Anything for you, dark and stormy, or are you just going to stare daggers into my bar all night?”
I chuckle, but my laugh instantly dies when he glares at me.
Levi’s pissed.
“I’ll have a water and a margarita too, please. Salt on mine.” She walks away, but not before throwing me a pitying look. Again.
She knows I’m about to get laid into.
“So that’s what ‘it’s done’ means? It means you’re not engaged anymore?” he asks with an edge. Why he’s so angry, I don’t know.
“No. I’m not engaged anymore,” I say, nervously chewing on my lip like he’s about to e
xplode on me. “I was never really engaged anyway.” I think back to how I never said yes.
“Are you still with him? Still moving to London? Just not engaged?”
I shake my head. “No. We broke up.” Damn my voice is quiet. I feel like I should be coaching myself to have a bit more tough girl in me.
He nods, running his hands through his hair. “And you weren’t going to fucking tell me this?” he snaps after a moment of quiet.
I turn to him, angling my body in his direction. “I was going to tell you.”
“When, Lara? When were you going to tell me this?”
“I don’t know. Why the fuck are you so mad at me?”
His anger just makes no sense. If anything, I thought he’d be happy. I’m buzzing right now from the equivalent of four shots of tequila in under twenty minutes on an empty stomach, and this is not helping. It’s been a shitty ass birthday, and I really don’t need anything else piled onto it.
“I’m mad because I haven’t seen you in two weeks. I’m mad because you’re no longer with the man you were supposed to move away with and you didn’t think to tell me the second you saw me. And I’m mad because fucking Mike,” he points toward the door Mike just left through, “was pawing all over you. Again.”
A laugh bursts out of my mouth and I see Levi’s lip twitch before he reforms his scowl.
“Tom and I broke up tonight, and despite your bullshit misplaced anger about my not telling you the second I saw you, I was going to tonight. It’s been a real shit birthday for me, and I don’t need you adding to it.” I raise my eyebrow at him before I turn, dangling my legs between our stools. “I’m sad about Tom. I know you probably don’t want to hear that, but I am. I was with him for two years. So, fuck off,” I snap.
“Did he break it off? Break your heart?” His eyes are narrowed into small slits and the sarcastic ire is not appreciated. “I doubt that, since the guy was totally gone on you. Were you out drinking like you didn’t have a care in the world the night I left you?” His tone is not pleasant, and I’m tempted to get up and walk away, but I don’t. I get where his anger is coming from now.
I take a sip of my water, which I realize I’m a little late in starting. I’m not following my patented hangover prevention alcohol/water formula.
“When you left…” I start, my voice quiet, but loud enough for him to hear. My eyes looking into the side of his face. “Once I knew that you were really gone and not coming back, I think I cried for three days straight. Followed by months of crying myself to sleep. I didn’t eat, barely slept, and didn’t go to class much.” I reach out and put my hand next to his on top of the bar. “You broke me, Levi. You absolutely broke me.” His eyes are filled with pain as his hands white knuckle the edge of the bar, but he started it, so it’s about time I finish it. “So much so that I never fully recovered from it. It took me years to want to date again, and even longer before I allowed myself to get in another relationship. That was with Tom, and now that’s over, so yeah, it hurts, but nowhere near the pain you inflicted upon me.” I raise my eyebrows at him, tilting my head. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Just how sad and wrecked I was over you? Feel better now?”
I don’t look at his face anymore. Instead, I reach into my purse and pull out some cash, tossing it onto the bar. I’m about to walk away from him when he grabs my forearm, stopping me. “Sit down, please.” His voice is so calm.
I hesitate for a second, but relent all the same. Partially because he asked me to, and partially because I see my nachos on their way over and I’m half drunk and starving. Badass bartender chick places them in front of me along with napkins, small plates and silverware.
I thank her before I grab a chip covered in black beans, chicken and cheese, and pop it into my mouth with a satisfying, salty crunch. God that’s good.
“Now,” he turns to me, watching me shove food into my mouth. “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”
33
“What is it you feel we need to talk about?” I ask, feeling weary. I think all I’ve done today is talk nonstop about heavy shit, and I’m tired. I’m a little drunk, definitely hungry as I stuff my face with nachos, but more than anything else, I’m freaking exhausted. Did I mention that already?
In fact, right now, I just want to go home and sleep today off. I haven’t processed the fact that Tom and I are really done, and even though I gave myself those ten minutes of crying time, I need some more to accept it. I miss him.
I really do. The thought of not seeing or speaking to him again, well, it hurts.
That doesn’t mean I want to get back together, because I don’t think that’s possible for us, and I doubt we can be friends, but I don’t want to shut him out of my life either. Is there some sort of common ground for an ex-fiancé?
I don’t know, but I think I need to try and figure one out.
We’re silent for a few minutes, just sitting side by side picking at the massive pile of nachos in front of us and sipping at our drinks. I’ve abandoned my margarita in favor of water, and so has Levi. I don’t think tonight is the night for getting drunk.
“I hate that I broke you,” he says, ending the silence. I turn to look at him, feeling sort of bad for dumping all that on him again. “You’ve used that word before. Broken,” he twists to look at me now with big eyes behind dark-rimmed glasses. “I know what it means, what it feels like, because I was right there with you.” He shifts a little to me, but not enough to touch me. He’s respecting my boundaries and I’m grateful for that. “You’ve never asked me about the women I’ve been with since you, and it’s not something I want to get into now, but you should know that I haven’t been able to date. At all.”
I’m so tempted to ask what that means. I don’t for a second believe he’s been celibate since he left me. Levi was a huge player before he and I got together, so even though he’s had a busy time of it in the last seven years, I don’t pretend to think he hasn’t been with other women. In fact, I figured he had been with a lot.
“No one was pretty enough, or smart enough, or called me out on my bullshit. I only saw you. For the last seven years since I left you in the middle of the night, it’s only been you, and it will always only be you,” he says this with such conviction that my breath catches. As much as part of me wants to just launch myself at him and forget the rest, I can’t. I can’t go from Tom to Levi in the next second.
That’s not who I am, and I feel like I need more time to mourn Tom before I could ever have anything worthwhile with Levi.
I haven’t said anything and I’m sure this is not lost on him. I don’t know what to say to this. He knows how I feel about him, that’s not a secret, but he also knows how I feel about Tom. Still.
“So, anyway,” he starts again, wiping his mouth and hands with his napkin before placing it down on his plate and turning to fully face me. “Hi, my name is Levi Katz.” He reaches out his hand like he wants to shake my mine, and a laugh pops out of me at his randomness.
It takes me a beat before I catch on to what he’s doing.
He’s starting over.
“Hi, Lara Gould,” I smile, returning his handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Levi.”
“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me Saturday night? I know a really good place that I’d like to take you.”
I nod. “Sure, that sounds nice.”
“Great.” He smiles so big that I actually feel my heart stop. “I’ll call you with details tomorrow, but now I think I should walk you home. It’s late.”
I check my phone and groan. It’s almost two in the morning. “Jesus, how the hell did it get so late?” I flash my eyes up to Levi in a moment of panic. “What about Tanya?”
He chuckles as he signs the slip, having paid our bill. “What about her? She’s not coming on our date.”
“Is she home alone at this hour?” I hate to think of her like that.
“No.” He looks at me like I’m nuts. “Of course not. Mrs. Hastings,
whom you have yet to meet, is there with her.”
I sigh in relief. I feel all sorts of protective over that girl. “Good.”
“I gotta be honest with you, baby, I love how you love my sister.” His smile is so damn sweet that I just want to wrap my arms around him, but I don’t. We’re starting over, and I think that’s a really good thing. The best thing actually. We can’t go back to what we were. The only place to go is forward, and I like the idea of dating him.
It feels casual.
I think I need casual for a bit.
Everyone else has already left, including Caleb and Amara, but not together. Nope, Amara left with Grayson. And apparently Levi and I were in our own bubble, because now it’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we make it back to my apartment. It’s completely dark in here, so I switch on the living room lights as Levi hovers in my doorway.
“I should go, it’s late,” he says, not really looking like he wants to leave at all.
“Yeah. Thanks for walking me back.”
We both hesitate for a second before I step back into my apartment, essentially ending the night.
He needs to go.
I need him to go.
“Should I be brassed off that he’s here at this early hour, or pleased that you didn’t offer him your bed?” Both Levi and I turn to see a very tired looking Tom standing in the doorway to my bedroom.
“Tom? How did you get here?” It doesn’t come out rude, just shocked, because that’s exactly what I am. He’s not only in New York, but in my apartment.
“You gave me a spare key, remember?” Oh right, I did. “I chartered a flight last night. I didn’t like how we ended things, and I hate the fact that it happened over the telephone,” he says this to me, but he’s staring daggers at Levi.
Jesus, won’t this night ever end?
Levi is staring blankly at him, like he’s not surprised to find Tom here.
Tom turns his stony glare over to me, looking me up and down slowly. “So you end things with me and then immediately run into his arms?” His tone isn’t angry or even accusatory, but there is no other way to take that.