Page 26 of Handy

“Coming right up.” He turns to pour my drink, and I lean on the bar while I wait, feeling as awkwardly out of place as always.

Stone and his half of the crew saunter in and everyone starts dividing up into billiards teams or darts teams, already joking and laughing. I must have missed whatever gene makes everyone else know how to do this shit, how to be social and friendly and charming.

Sawyer slides my beer across the bar, and I catch it with a grunt of thanks, plopping my ass down on the stool and resigning myself to being the scowling wallflower for an hour or so before I call it a night.

LEDGER

“You get that this is total stalker behavior, right?” Jericho says as we pull into the parking lot of Wooley’s.

“He literally told me he was coming here. How is that stalking? If anything, it was an invitation.” I wave him off and fling open the passenger side door as soon as the car comes to a stop.

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not like he couldn’t use a night out to troll for a rebound anyway, so I don’t know what he’s complaining about.

“Listen, be cool, okay?” I cast him a sidelong glance as we near the door, and Jericho laughs.

“So, don’t tell him you’re a lovesick fool who’s been panting at the window and sending him presents?” he teases.

“Yes, please don’t say any of that.”

“I got it, Ledgie. I’ll be cool as a cucumber.” He pantomimes drawing an X over his heart.

“What do improvised dildos have to do with this?”

“What?” He screws up his face.

“What?” I echo innocently, flashing him a smirk and then pulling the door open to step inside.

I’m a gay dude, so obviously I’ve been to the only official gay bar in town more than a few times. It has been a minute since I’ve bothered to swing by though. I blink to adjust to the dim lighting and glance around the place. It’s a Monday afternoon, so it isn’t very busy. From the looks of things, the only people in here are the small group of rowdy, burly guys who I’m guessing are Griff’s coworkers, crowded around the pool tables.

I’ve never been less surprised by anything than I am to find Griff sitting by himself at the bar with half a beer in front of him and a bored scowl on his face.

“Go grab us a table near those guys. I’ll get us drinks.” I give Jericho a little nudge and he saunters off without giving me any more shit.

Griff doesn’t notice me as I sidle up next to him. He doesn’t even look up until I drag the stool noisily across the floor.

“What are you drinking?” I nod at his glass and take a seat, grinning as he stares at me in confusion for several long seconds.

“Ledger,” he says in that low growl, raising goose bumps all along the back of my neck. “What are you doing here?”

“See, other guys might be offended by a question like that.” I flag down the bartender then snag the beer from in front of Griff to take a sip.

“Hey,” he grunts.

I pass it right back, licking my lips and grinning at him. “I was just checking if it was really so bad it deserved all that scowling.”

Griff huffs an almost-laugh and then takes a sip himself.

“The drink’s fine.”

I nod and ask Sawyer for two more of the same.

“You don’t have to—” Griff starts to say.

“One’s for my friend.” I point behind him and Griff turns to look.

The frown on his lips deepens and I cock my head curiously. Is he jealous? Gah, what a muffin. I stretch my arm out casually and sling it across the back of Griff’s barstool so I can nonchalantly drag my fingers along his back. He shivers and leans into my subtle touch, then grunts and looks back over at me, thunderclouds still in his eyes.

“I saw him at your place,” he mutters into another sip of his drink.

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