Page 40 of Perfect Score

However, when they started dating, I still looked up to the guy, so I didn’t see it that way. Now, I feel differently about it after the way he’s treated her and the fact that Ben's right—Liam is a tool.

“Honesty, I thought it was a funny origin story for you and Zoey. I didn’t think Liam, or you would have taken offense to it.”

It would have been a good story, if that story wasn't the beginning of the end of Zoey being single. Only a few days later, she was dating Liam.

“Who gives a shit about Liam?” I ask.

“Not me,” Ben says, shaking his head. “Anyway… are we good?”

Ben is a good guy. I know he didn’t mean any harm. And if Zoey and I were actually together and the entire event that led to me telling Liam who I was interested in hadn’t happened, I would have laughed at it, too.

“Yeah, we’re good," I nod.

“Okay. I’m headed to bed to sleep this off," he says, setting his empty beer on the bar. "See you tomorrow at ice skating?”

I nod. “See you tomorrow.”

Ben starts heading for the exit when he yells something over his shoulder at me.

“Good to see you again, Brent. I’m glad you got the time off. David’s wedding wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I’m glad to be here, too.”

I watch him as he heads out of the bar.

It's good to hear that I’m not the only one that thinks that Zoey deserves better than Liam.

“Back again? What can I get you?” the bartender asks, resting his hands on the bar top.

He’s a guy probably ten years older than me, dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down white shirt with the arms rolled up and slightly faded tattoos along one forearm.

“Can I get a beer?” I ask.

“Do you have a preference?” he asks, grabbing a napkin from under the bar and setting it down in front of me.

I shake my head. “Whatever you have that’s good."

He nods and reaches down under the counter. I hear an under-counter fridge door open and glass bottles clinking around.

When he straightens back up, he has a local IPA in his hand. He pops the top off the long neck bottle and sets it down on top of the napkin.

“Thanks,” I say.

I reach for the bottle, pressing the top of the bottle to my lips as I take a pull off the ice-cold beer—the hoppy amber liquid fizzes against my tongue.

It’s good.

“Are you with the wedding party that was just in here?” he asks.

When I was down here earlier, there were two bartenders, and it was the other one that made me and Zoey’s first order. His shift must have already ended because this bartender seems alone for the night.

“Yeah, my best friend is getting married here this weekend," I tell him, looking around the bar to see who's left but everyone must have left while Ben and I were talking.

“Got it. Is everything okay with the woman in the dress? Seems like you two weren’t here long," he asks, wiping down the counter to the side of me.

Great… glad we made a scene big enough for the bartender to notice.

“Woman in the dress?” I ask with a raised brow.

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