Page 20 of Shattered

Do you not want to see me then? It’s cool. I guess I’ll see you around.

After taking a gulp of my beer, I couldn’t help but smirk as I put my phone back in my pocket. Without a doubt, he’ll make it to the bar in fifteen minutes, not twenty. This guy will do anything to see me.

Thirty minutes later, we’re walking straight through Pythons and going to the bar. I didn’t realize how much the beers I drank at Brewtap would affect me during the walk to this place. A part of me didn’t want to leave Brews in hopes that Bex ends up turning up, but it’s 10:30 now. It’s not going to happen. He would have texted me. The thought alone makes me feel down and prompts me to order a beer as soon as I reach the bar.Engrossed in scanning the area, I take out my phone from my pocket and find three text messages. I open the text, expecting it to be Bexley with a valid reason for his absence, but it’s not. It’s L.

L:

I’m here. Are you inside?

Well, what do you know? He got here in fifteen.

L:

Brayden, are you here???

L:

You just walked right past me at the entrance. I can’t get in.

Oops, my bad! I laugh and give Tray a friendly slap on the shoulder, then ask him to go get Lance. “He’s outside.”

Tray nods, walking back to the door. His older brother works security here. On weekends, we enjoy going to Brewtap because it has a better atmosphere, but we come to Pythons when we’re with people who don’t have ID, so Tray’s brother can get them in. Lance approaches me, appearing terrified as his eyes nervously scan the busy crowd. I’ve never seen someone appear so out of their element. I’ll loosen him up. As he approaches the bar, his timid brown eyes, framed by those black-rimmed glasses that are my ultimate weakness, meet mine. He opens his mouth, then closes it, finally giving me a shy smile.

“Hey.” I lean down, kissing the shell of his ear. “You came,” I utter quietly. As I lean back, our eyes briefly meet before he quickly averts his gaze, shyly peering down at the ground. I notice him wrapping his arms around himself, and a slight shiver running through his upper body.

“You cold?” I question. I can’t imagine it; it’s fucking hot in here.

Clearing his throat, he softly responds, “No.”

OK then.

“You want a drink?” I signal the bartender and then glance back at Lance.

His gaze and mine collide once more.

He offers me a tight-lipped smile. “Water please?”

“Oh, come on, have a beer with me.” Flashing his straight white teeth, he smiles and nods at me. I haven’t gone out with Lance in a social setting, but I know he’s a responsible guy who goes to bed early on school nights and finishes his coursework well in advance. I barely pay him any attention in the few classes we have together, but I need him tonight. Burying myself in him is my temporary escape from this shithole life I’m currently dragging myself through. I gather the beers from the bar and hand one to him. He accepts it and takes a drink. His attempt to mask his disgust is met with utter failure.

Leaning one elbow on the bar, I shoot Lance a grin. I love watching him squirm and seeing him out of his comfort zone; it makes him all that more appealing.

All that more fragile.

“So, what made you change your mind, then?” I’m aware that questioning him makes him uncomfortable, but I still do it. He shifts his weight back and forth, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. With clenched teeth and a tight grip on the bottle, I envision him dropping to his knees, taking me in his mouth, and gazing up at me through his framed glasses. I gulp down some of the beer and turn, gesturing to the bartender again to order.

“Shot of sambuca please.” My focus shifts back to Lance. “Well?” I question, waiting for him to answer. His doe-like eyes dart back and forth as he sucks in his bottom lip.

“I wanted to see you.” I was already aware of this, but I simply wanted to hear him say it. I acknowledge him, tracing my tongue over my lower lip while his big innocent brown orbs follow my every motion. He’s gripping his arms tightly, with his chest rising and falling rapidly.

I take the sambuca shot and down it.

“Come here.” I stare at Lance. His arms fall to his sides as he hesitates, but eventually he takes a step toward me and positions himself directly in front of me.

I lower my head, tracing my tongue along his lower lip. He inhales sharply, quickly licking his lips, as if trying to capture the taste of my tongue.

“You like the taste of that?” I ask, knowing he can no doubt taste the sambuca shot.

With eagerness, he nods while his eyes quickly dart from my lips to my eyes.

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