Page 2 of The Holiday Fail

A noise from beside me caught my attention. A man around my age with the build and vibe of a surfer was animatedly chatting with the older man sitting beside me. I caught a glimpse of his side profile before he moved between the two of us, his back toward me, and began swaying his hips to the slow beat playing through the pub’s speakers.

It was obvious he was trying to flirt, and from the amused smile the silver fox had on while watching him, it was working.

I wasn’t into men, but even I had to admit that his plump ass was mesmerizing as he shook it like he was in a club. I was openly watching them at this point. My body fully turned to them, but they didn’t seem to notice. They were too caught up in each other.

Flirty hands roamed down the younger man’s body. It was getting a little too heated for me, so I averted my gaze to give them some privacy. My eyes landed on the beer tap faucet head behind the bar. The head was a wooden carving—of doves, naturally—but that wasn’t what caught my attention.

Whoever carved the handle made the birds seem almost alive. Their wings were spread open, as if they were about to take flight, but through it all, the two birds’ beaks stayed together in a kiss. Under the warm lights inside the bar, thebrown wood of the carving almost appeared to glow. In fact, there was a curious sparkle in the birds’ beady eyes.

I wanted to take a closer look, and leaned in to investigate better—wanting to reassure myself that the strange light was only a trick of the eye—but before I could, a warm, hard body landed in my lap.

Chapter Two

ANDY

The person yelped and flailed their arms above them like they were about to fall. Before I could think of anything, my arms wrapped around his stomach. I was met with warmth and rock-hard abs that had me wanting to put in more hours at the gym myself.

I’d always been muscular from having worked physical jobs since I was legally able to. That and the hard work in the kitchen created a body that most women drooled over, which worked to my benefit since I never lacked a companion in bed. When I wished for one, of course, because I didn’t believe in the whole commitment thing.

But the dude in my lap’s solid build was on a whole different level than mine. I could probably cut my slabs of meat on his abs with how hard they were.

When I finally looked down to get a glance at who exactly I was holding, I was met with gooey brown eyes that looked on the verge of tears.

Maybe it was the toxic masculinity in me or thetough it upmentality I’d been raised with, but grown men crying usually left a distaste in my mouth…but I couldn’t bring myself to feel the same about him, not when he looked sovulnerableandtrustingas he gazed up at me.

There weren’t many people in my life who needed me. My parents had basically forgotten about my existence as soon as I was old enough to take care of myself. I would like to think I was there for Casey, but he wasn’t like me. He had people on his side he could count on. So, being met with this reliance from a stranger, a long-forgottenprotectivefeeling welled up inside of me.

“You okay?” I asked him softly, as I steadied him on his feet and made sure that he wouldn’t topple over as soon as I took my hands off him.

His eyes grew wider at the sound of my voice before sparkling even more with tears that looked to be even more on the verge of falling. Clearly, I’d said the wrong thing.

I didn’t really know how to comfort people, so I just patted his back like I’d seen them do on TV. It seemed to work since his tears didn’t spill.

“Where’s your date?” I asked when he calmed down a bit. The stool beside me was now empty. Who knew when the older man had left, though it was kinda shitty to leave his drunk date alone like this.

Gentleman wasn’t a word used to describe me, but even I knew that.

This stranger was dazed, clearly more drunk than sober, so it didn’t feel right ditching him here by himself.

Apparently, I only knew how to say the exactly wrong things, because this time, he did start crying. It wasn’t loud or fussy, like when kids wailed, but more of a heartbroken sob as tears silently fell down his cheeks.

My hand involuntarily reached out, ready to wipe away his tears. It was such an out-of-character act that I almost questioned if the hand actually belonged to me.

Thankfully, before I could carry out such a soft action, the stranger slumped over the bar and sobbed into his arms.

My hand fell to my side. I watched him for a couple of seconds, unsure of what to do. I would be a total jackass to leave him there alone like that, but I wasn’t the person people went to for emotional shit like this.

Casey was the one who was in touch with his feelings and always nagging me to do the same. My reply to him every single time was a curt ‘fuck off.’

But then I remembered how trusting this stranger’s eyes were when they looked at me, and I couldn’t just abandon him like this, not when I knew how painful it was to feel all alone in your time of need.

So I gently placed my hand on his back again—and damn, even his back muscles were defined under his thin T-shirt. His back heaved up and down with each sob, but as I stoked gentle circles against him, they settled down, as did his tears.

Pretty soon, his breathing was calm and even, as if he’d fallen asleep. I tried—and failed—to get his attention, then nudged his head to confirm that he was, in fact, in dreamland.

Shit.

What was I supposed to do now? I looked around the bar, hoping someone could give me an answer on what the right course of action was here, but nobody was paying attention to us.

---