But his eyes were the most striking thing of all. They were eyes constantly burning, always on fire, eyes that told you exactly what he felt. And when they found mine, my knees almost buckled.
I held on to Greg’s arm like a lifeline, looking away to search for Lily as I tried to regain some level of composure. It was my only defense against him — ignore, ignore, ignore.
Lily and Maggie sat at a high top, sipping their drinks. They waved as we stepped around the crowd there for Patrick, and I did my very best to pretend like he didn’t exist. Not yet, at least. Not until my heart quit hammering.
Lily stood and hugged me, blond hair in soft waves, her dress made of pink lace and flared, lips red and smiling. I swear, the ballerina thing was coded into her genetics.
“Hey,” she said, looking past me at Greg when she pulled away. She extended a hand. “Greg, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lily.”
“It’s a pleasure.” He smiled amiably and gave her hand a squeeze.
Maggie waved, her short, curly hair bobbing. “And I’m Maggie,” she said, her Mississippi drawl sweet and sugary.
“So,” I said as I turned to Greg, “welcome to Habits, our home away from home.”
Ellie stood at my side, blatantly shopping the guys, sizing them up. They didn’t seem to mind in the slightest — in fact, I could practically see the testosterone wafting off them.
West and Cooper turned to us, and we said our hellos. As we all shifted to greet one another, I ended up next to Patrick. So I did what I was supposed to do. What I wanted to do just as much as I didn’t.
I leaned in and gave him a hug, holding my breath so I wouldn’t breathe him in. “Happy birthday, Tricky.”
His hand slipped around my waist, bringing our bodies flush for a brief moment. “Thank you, Rose,” he said near my ear, though I could barely hear over the sound of my heart, like it was calling to him.
I pulled away, overwhelmed, avoiding eye contact as I remembered myself and looked for Greg behind me. I slipped my arm around his as if to say I was his, pretending I was unaffected, though I could feel both men watching me. I smiled under the weight of it all.
I realized then that I wasn’t as good at playing it cool as I thought I was. I also realized that bringing Greg here was a colossal mistake.
“Want a drink?” Greg asked, snapping me back to the moment.
I smiled my waitress smile that covered up my feelings like a mask, feeling like a fool. “Neat scotch, thanks.”
He smiled back, and I had a feeling his smile was as fake as my own. “Be right back.”
I stepped over to Lily again, keeping my back to Patrick. She nodded, smiling.
“He’s super cute, Rosie.”
Ellie set down her bag and took a seat next to Lily. “And nice, too.”
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have brought him here. It’s about a kabillion times more awkward than I thought it would be.”
Maggie smirked. “It’s the first time you’ve really been with a guy in front of Patrick, plus Greg is meeting all of your friends, all of whom are friends with Patrick too. It’s a big deal.”
“I mean, Tricky met him last night.” It was the weakest defense ever.
Ellie made a face. “Sort of. And he wasn’t all smiles and handshakes.”
I chuffed. “No, more like switchblade eyes and bro nods.”
Maggie sighed and glanced behind me, presumably at Patrick. “It’s like watching a panther circle its supper. I don’t know how you don’t cave.”
“Sometimes I don’t either.”
Lily’s face got a little more serious. “Oh, God. Rosie, don’t look yet, but Veronica just walked in.”
I’d nearly forgotten about her with everything else spinning around my head. I moved around the table like I was going to talk to Ellie so I could catch a glimpse and immediately wished I hadn’t.
Veronica looked a lot like me, except with a badass supermodel upgrade. She was so gorgeous, she looked like she belonged in a comic book or something, all long legs and piercings, tattoos everywhere. She’d just approached Patrick — they were smiling, and she kissed him on the cheek.
I tried to swallow my feelings, but they stuck in my throat like a cork.
She was flanked by … Penny, I think was her name, with long hair the color of grass and bangs cut like a pinup girl. She was dressed like a pinup girl too, in high-waisted pants and a black, polka-dotted top with a sweetheart neckline and tiny buttons down the front. You’d think she’d look weird, having hair the color of a lime snow cone and all, but when coupled with her winged liner, piercings, tattoos, and deep red lips, she just looked like she belonged in a magazine too.
I felt about as fashionable as the K-Mart clearance rack.
Greg walked up with my drink, mercifully, giving me something to avert my eyes toward as well as eighty-proof liquor to calm my nerves. A large part of me was ready to bail. I looked up at him and smiled, trying to figure out the fastest way to get out of there. We could stay for a drink. Maybe go back to my place. Try to reset the weird.
I wondered if he felt it too. If I was reading his body language effectively, he definitely did.
West and Cooper pulled up next to their girls to chat with Greg, and I sipped my scotch, attempting to pay attention. I’d nearly finished my drink and was about to ask Greg if he wanted to get out of there when I felt a hand on my arm.
“Ah, Rose?”
Please, don’t be Veronica, I thought as I turned, standing so straight, I could have had a two-by-four up my ass.
It was totally Veronica.
She glanced behind me at everyone and sort of waved at everyone. We’d all met her a few times before Patrick brought her into the bar after he dumped me. The group was still, faces frozen in smiles. Maggie waved back, a small motion, the only one.
“Um, I’m sorry to interrupt, but do you have a second?”
I looked up at Greg with apologetic eyes, then back at her. “Ah, sure.”
I followed her away from the throng and toward the bar, feeling everyone’s eyes on us, especially Patrick’s. I swear, they burned hotter than everyone else’s, and I exhausted a large supply of my concentration trying to focus on her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” she asked over her shoulder.
Mine was empty, and even if I could refuse the olive branch, I needed another stiff drink. And soon. “Thanks,” I answered.
We stepped up to the bar, and Veronica leaned on the surface, waiting for Shelby to make her way down to us. I took the opportunity to look her over once more — her hair was black as midnight, lips a deep burgundy, dressed head to toe in black. She turned to me with those dark lips of hers smiling.
Fake-ass smile: activate.
“Listen,” she started tentatively, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry. For what happened with Tricky, and all,” she clarified. “I—”
Shelby walked up, and we shared a brief look before she asked, “Hello, ladies. What’ll it be?”
“Makers and Coke, for me,” Veronica answered.
“Glenlivet, neat. Thanks, Shelb.”
“No problem.”
Veronica laid a twenty and a few singles on the bar and turned back to me as Shelby poured our drinks. “Rose, I want you to know that I had no idea what was going on between the two of you when he asked me to come here with him that night. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have agreed. In fact, I didn’t understand what was up until we left.”
Shelby brought our drinks by and picked up the cash.
“Keep the change,” Veronica said with a wave, and Shelby smiled and walked away. She picked up her drink. “You know, we left here that night, and I thought he’d been a little weird, but I wasn’t sure what was going on. Like, I knew you guys had dated, but I had no idea if it was serious or not, and I wasn’t sure when you’d broken up. You know how he is … he’s pretty private about … well, everything.”
“Yeah, I do know.” I picked up my scotch and t
ook a sip.
“Anyway, when we left, he basically dumped me on the sidewalk. He told me a little about you two, apologized for bringing me into it. I could have punched him for the both of us, but instead, I bitched him out and left him standing outside the bar, hopefully feeling like a dick. I almost came back in here that night to talk to you, but you were here with your friends, and … I don’t know. I was embarrassed. I should have come back then, and I’m sorry for that too.”
I sighed, part of me wishing she was a bitch so I could hate her. But I couldn’t hate her. She’d been taken for just as much of a ride as I had. Sorta.
She turned to face me. “You don’t owe me anything, Rose. But I wanted to let you know.”
“Thank you, Veronica. Really,” I said, humbled. “You didn’t have to come to me, and you didn’t have to buy me this drink, but I appreciate it. All of it.”
“It’s the least I can do. Joel told me a little more about what kind of damage I caused, and I hate that I was a part of that.”
“Don’t let that get to you. I don’t blame you. I blame him.”
She chuckled. “I’m not gonna lie — I had a thing for him for a long, long time. But after that fiasco? You couldn’t pay me.”
I smirked. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
She glanced over at him and sighed. “No, what I mean is that I could never be with a man who was in love with someone else.”
“Oh,” I said quietly.
“Seeing you together makes it even more real. Like, everything makes a lot more sense.” She looked down at her drink and smiled, shaking it to clink the ice together. “Anyway, thanks again. I’m glad we’re cool.”
“Cheers to that.” I raised my glass.
She clinked her glass to mine. “Bottoms up.”
We drank and headed back to the group. Greg caught my eye, and I smiled at him with barely enough time to be grateful that Cooper and West had kept him company, just before Seth stepped in front of me, effectively cutting me off.
I tried not to recoil and plastered that smile back on. “Hey, Seth. Good to see you again so soon. How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain,” he said as I looked him over.
Seth had always been a good-looking guy, blond and fair, gorgeous green eyes and a smile full of joy — the same he wore as he stood across from me in Habits, ginger ale in hand — however fabricated his joy typically was. He was fun, when the circumstances were right, witty, a charmer. But when he drank, when he was high, well, that was another story all together. It was his Mr. Hyde, the darkness brought out by addiction.
That part of him had all but disappeared. But I hadn’t forgotten that it was still just under the surface, waiting for the moment it would boil back to life.
“You look good,” I said. “Tricky said you’ve turned a corner. I’m really happy for you.”
He stuffed his free hand into his pocket. “Aw, don’t go getting sappy on me, Rosie. How many times did we come to Habits back in the day?”
I chuckled. “And how many times did I have you thrown out?”
He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not my best self, was it?”
“Not usually,” I said with a smile.
He sighed. “Well, I’m just glad I made it out, you know? No more fighting to survive. Not everyone gets to say that.”
“True.” I didn’t know what else to say, and my eyes darted to Greg, feeling the pressure to get back to him.
“Anyway, I’d love to catch up some time. Maybe we can get lunch or something. Dinner? Or maybe a movie?”
“Ah, sure,” I said tentatively, wondering if he was trying to ask me out. By the look in his eyes, I thought the answer might be yes. I steered the conversation in the opposite direction. “Listen, I’m really glad you came through for Tricky tonight. He said you’re not drinking anymore, so I know this wouldn’t be your hangout of choice. It was a gift to him in itself, your being here.”
“I hope so. I owe him everything,” he said earnestly.
I smiled, genuinely, this time. “I’m going to get back to my date.”
“Sure thing, Rose.”
I stepped past him, catching Greg’s eye again, trying to telepathically apologize to him as I walked through the people. And then, Joel grabbed me.
He laughed as he hugged me, picking me up easily with one arm around my waist, beer in his free hand. “Heya, Rosie.”
I couldn’t help but giggle in surprise and endearment as I held up my scotch, hoping I hadn’t spilled on him. “Hey, Joel.”
He set me back on the ground, though he held me close, looking down at me, smiling. “It’s been too long. Much too long.” He set his beer down with mischief in his eyes. “Have you met my friends THIS,” he rested his right hand, tattooed with the word on my left cheek, “and THAT?” His left hand found the other cheek, and he squeezed, planting a kiss on my lips.
I laughed when he pulled away, cheeks on fire, wondering what the hell Greg could possibly be thinking about what he was seeing. “Only about a hundred times, Joel.”
Patrick was just a few feet away, on the other side of Shep, watching us. Mistakes for days, I thought ruefully.
“What’s going on?” I asked Joel as he let me go.
“Not much. I was just saying to Shep here that we should come by to see you. Cooper told us about your new business. A bookstore, huh?”
“Oh, he did, did he?” I said with a laugh and shot Cooper a look. Bastard raised his glass at me, and I rolled my eyes.
“I didn’t know you were a reader.”
I raised a brow. “Judging a book by its cover?”
He shrugged. “You probably wouldn’t figure me for a reader, either, but I’ve read every Vonnegut book in print. Twice.”
I laughed. “Well, how about that.”
“Coop seemed pretty set on the endeavor. As an entrepreneur myself, I have to say I wholeheartedly approve.”
“We’ll see, but I’m almost positive that me being someone’s boss is a bad idea.”
Joel chuckled.
I shook my head and took a sip of my drink. “I’ll be back in a bit, gotta get back to my date.”
Joel patted me on the shoulder as I turned, looking for Greg, but he’d disappeared. West caught my eye, looking apologetic as he nodded toward the back of the bar. Greg sat at a table alone, checking his phone, empty glass in front of him.
I steeled myself as I walked over to him, preparing myself to be chewed out. I deserved it. But I joked with him anyway, bumping him in the shoulder with a smile.
“What, are you already trolling the app for a better date? Bad form, Greg.”
His smile was unable to mask his disappointment. “Sorry, Rose. Your friends are great, really, but I didn’t realize what kind of party tonight was. I think I’m going to jet.”
I was the worst kind of asshole. “No, it’s me who’s sorry. I should have known this wouldn’t be like a regular old bar night. I’ll come with you. We can get out of here together.”
“No, you should stay. It’s your friend’s birthday, and you should be here,” he said as he stood and touched my arm. “Really, it’s fine, Rose.”
I held my clutch in front of me, nibbling on my lip, feeling like an asshole. “I feel like I should apologize again, Greg.”
But he touched my arm and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.” He leaned down to kiss my cheek. “Have a good time with your friends,” he said before brushing past me, heading for the exit. I watched him wind his way through the people until I couldn’t see him anymore.
“Well, this sucks.” I slammed the end of my scotch and headed back to the bar to get another drink. This time, a double.
The night was long, a little bit easier with Greg gone, as shitty as that was. I’d wildly underestimated my ability to handle tonight with Greg, and I wondered just how permanent the damage was. But I relaxed after he left, making my way around to talk to everyone without needing to wor
ry. I avoided Seth like Ebola, feeling like he wanted something more from me, probably something I was unwilling to give. The boys talked. The girls laughed. Joel and I sat down and ended up in a deep conversation about life and purpose, one of those conversations that leaves you feeling wiser, a little more in touch with yourself. He and I always did that when we saw each other — sometimes, he would drop this insight on you that would just hit you in some deep part of yourself.
Why he was single, I’d never know. By choice, I supposed. That was the only way it made sense.
Patrick and I found ways to be near each other, though I kept the wall in place and a few feet of air between us. I enjoyed it all the same, as much as I hated myself for it. We were friends. Only friends, just like we had been for years. I tried to let all the rest of it go and focus on that.
We stepped into the courtyard in the back of the bar and stood Patrick under the big tree, singing “Happy Birthday” as Lily brought out his cake, topped with twenty-eight candles. When she set it on a small table in front of him and it illuminated his face in shades of gold, my breath hitched, and I found myself unable to sing, or speak, or breathe. He smiled that rare smile of his as he looked around at us, the people who loved him most in the world, the planes and angles of his face glowing or shadowed, depending. And then his eyes found mine as the song ended, blanketing us in stillness.
“Make a wish,” I said gently, and he closed his eyes for a moment before blowing them out, every one.
16
FLESH PRETZEL
Patrick
THE CAKE HAD BEEN EATEN and the whiskey flowed once more as I stood in the bar with my friends, all pink-cheeked and laughing. Seth clapped me on the shoulder and said goodbye just after the cake, and I was thankful for him, thankful that the universe had released him from the hold it had on him.
It was a good birthday.
I’d asked for everyone’s favorite books, anyone who’d questioned me as to what I wanted, at least, and I walked away with a haul. Dune from Joel, a Batman compendium from Cooper, The Bell Jar from Veronica, and The Princess Bride from Lily. Others gave me gifts they’d chosen, from a wooden crate packed with whiskey and drinking gifts from Shep — which came with a small crowbar that was necessary to open it — to a framed print by one of my favorite illustrators from West.