Page 104 of The Sweet Spot

“Your ex, bro. She just came in.”

I take a long drag of beer, keeping my eyes on the darts game going on nearby. It’s unfortunate that Brooke is here, but not entirely surprising. Everyone ends up at this place eventually, and now that we’re slogging through finals, everyone’s looking for a little reprieve.

“She’s looking over here,” Matty adds, funneling the last of his chips into his mouth.

“I really don’t give a fuck,” I mutter, balling my napkin up and tossing it aside. Two girls squeeze by, one of them tossing me a coy smile as shebumps Matty’s seat. It’s busy for Thursday.

“Where’s Sweet Spot when you need her?” he murmurs.

“Sweet Spot’s not twenty-one,” I remind him.

“Never stopped me.”

“And that’s why you’ve been arrested. Twice.”

“Hey, I was always let off.” He scoffs, shifting to slide his phone from his pocket. “Anyway, you know I was only arrested for underaged drinking once. The other time was for fighting.”

Amused, I finish my beer and rap my knuckles on the varnished, wooden table. “You down for one more before we head out?”

“I’m in no rush,” he says, tapping out a text to God-knows-who.

Pushing back my chair, I thread my way through the close, crowded room. The bartender, a tall, slender girl with close-cropped hair and a nose ring, jerks her chin when our eyes meet. “Whaddya need?”

“Two Sierra Nevadas. Tap.”

She nods, grabbing a couple of glasses from beneath the bar. The music shifts from old school alternative to old school hip hop, inspiring a group in the corner to yell along with the lyrics. Chuckling at the scene, I turn back to the bar and grab my wallet. Someone—female, by the softness—presses close, and then a familiar scent tickles my nose.

Brooke’s hair is lighter than it was when we were dating, but other than that nothing’s changed. Not the flirty smirk quirking her mouth, not theway she cocks her head as her eyes trail over my face. It’s amazing how unattractive a beautiful girl can be when you know what ugly things she’s done.

“Luca,” she says slowly, biting her full bottom lip. “Hi.”

“Hey, Brooke.” I return my attention to the bartender, who’s filled one glass and has moved on to the other.

“How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Not entirely true. We’ve seen each other several times on campus; I’ve even spotted her with Logan. She still gives me the puppy eyes after all this time, but she knows not to talk to me. Until now, anyway.

“Really? You’re not even going to talk to me?”

I don’t know what she wants me to say. Glancing down at her, I catch a hint of the pout I used to think was sort of cute. Now it’s nothing—not even annoying. Letting out a slow breath, I return my eyes to the bartender. “Classes going well for you?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe we’re about to graduate.” She hesitates. “What about you? Are you doing okay?”

“Everything’s great.” I flash her a quick smile, wishing she’d take the hint. I wasn’t enough for her when we were together, so why does she need this now? To assuage her guilt? Or is she still interested? I can’t tell, but more importantly, I just don’t care anymore. I wish she’d stop caring, too.

Silence falls between us, as much as it can in a place as loud as this. Another bartender passes by, briefly leaning in as she takes Brooke’s order.

“Luca,” she says, touching my arm long enough for me to look down at her. “I need you to know, for what it’s worth, that I will always regret what I did. I messed up, and I’m sorry.”

I study her for a moment. She’s done a hell of a lot more than Logan ever did, apologizing like this. “I know you are. Apology accepted.”

Flushing, she looks away. “You’re different from other guys. I should’ve realized that.”

I raise an eyebrow. It doesn’t matter what kind of guy I am; no one deserves to be cheated on. “What difference does that make?”

“I just mean that I know what I had,” she says. “You’re a good guy.”

The first bartender returns with my drinks. I hand over a twenty, telling her to keep the change.

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