Page 28 of Playing with My Heart

The neon lights of a nearby bar called out like sirens to my shattered soul. Inside the crowded establishment, I drowned myself in drink after drink, each one numbing the pain a little more until the edges of reality blurred. Time lost meaning as I sat there, ignoring the bartender’s concerned glances.

“Another one,” I slurred, pushing my empty glass across the sticky counter.

“Last call, man,” the bartender said with a sympathetic tilt of his head.

“Fuck.” I fumbled with my phone, my vision swimming as I tried to focus on the screen. I needed someone, anyone. My thumb found Travis’s name and without a second thought, I hit call.

“Heyyy, Travvvvis,” I drawled when his voice came through the speaker, steady and clear.

“Parker? What’s wrong, you sound wasted.” Travis’s voice was laced with worry.

“’Cause I am,” I informed him with a hiccup.

“What happened, Parker? Why are you drinking?”

“Me and David—we’re done,” I stated, thankful for the copious amounts of alcohol I’d consumed which helped dull the pain.

“Shit, Parker. Why?”

I shrugged my shoulders as if he could see me. “Spark’s gone,” I slurred, the liquor loosening my tongue. “Stopped getting that—that little tickle in my belly when I saw him. Not like—” My drunken thoughts flitted in and out of my head, gone before I was able to give them voice.

“Where are you? I’ll pick you up and take you home,” he insisted. I could hear keys jangling through the phone and then a door shutting. It sounded like he was outside now.

“Can’t go home,” I mumbled, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of the night. “Don’t live there anymore.”

“Then I’ll bring you back here. Either way, give me the name of where you are.”

I turned bleary eyes on the bartender. “Where am I?”

The man shook his head. “Lucky Jack’s,” he replied.

Travis must have heard because he cut in before I could relay the name of the bar to him. “I know where that is. I’m coming to get you, Parker. Just stay put.”

“’Kay,” I managed to say before my world tipped sideways and darkness crept in at the edges of my consciousness.

Travis found me slumped over the bar, my world spinning, overwhelming emotions causing tears to stream down my cheeks. He didn’t judge, didn’t ask any questions. He just picked up my bag, paid my tab then scooped me up like I was something precious and helped me out into the night.

Streetlights blurred past as Travis’s car hummed steadily. I leaned my head against the window, the glass cooling my alcohol induced flushed skin. The night had taken its toll, the alcohol in my veins a bitter reminder of the day’s heartache.

“Drink this. All of it,” Travis instructed, handing me a bottle of water from out of the cupholder. His tone was gentle, yet firm, as if he knew just how much to push without breaking me further. I took it with a nod, the weight of it in my hands grounding me back to reality.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking garage of his building and shut off the engine. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” He guided me out of the car with an arm that felt both protective and familiar.

His condo was just as warm and inviting as I remembered, the dim lighting a stark contrast to the harsh fluorescence of the bar I’d left behind. Each step towards the guest room felt heavier than the last, my legs barely cooperating as gravity seemed to have it out for me tonight.

“Here.” Travis offered me a couple of Tylenol, which I accepted with a clumsy gratitude, my fingers brushing against his palm. Even through the haze, I couldn’t help but notice the strength in his touch, the certainty in his movements. I felt safe with him, cared for. It was exactly what I needed, but also too much, his kindness bringing fresh tears to my eyes.

“Thanks,” I repeated thickly.

He helped me into the bed, taking off my shoes and tucking the covers around me with a care that was almost meticulous. There was something so effortlessly kind about him; it made my chest ache with a longing I couldn’t quite place.

“Travis,” I mumbled, the edges of sleep creeping in, numbing the edges of my pain. “I really—I like you so much.”

His chuckle was soft, a sound that seemed to fill the room with a warmth all its own. “You’re just drunk, Parker. Sleep it off, okay?”

But even as sleep pulled me under, I knew there was a truth in my slurred confession, a spark that flickered in the darkness, waiting to be kindled. And as I drifted off, I couldn’t help but feel like I was finally somewhere I belonged.

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