Page 42 of Dean

She huffs a laugh, and I turn to look at a few other patrons chatting at tables, and a few on the dancefloor swaying their hips to the music. Everyone looks like they don’t have a care in the world but me. I have cares. A lot of them.

“This your first time here?” the bartender asks.

“No. I was here a few times in college. I’ve just been so busy I haven’t had time to make it back in a while.”

“Ah, what’s the occasion…you know, what made the day un-fun?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“Fair enough. Well, it all stems from shitty ex-roommates being assholes and a hot straight man I’m currently living with.”

“Oh, the tragedy.”

“Tell me about it,” I sigh as she pours a pink colored drink into a sugar-rimmed glass and slides it across to me.

“This will help. And if you stay long enough, it will get busy. I bet you’ll find someone to help you take your mind off all of it.”

“Yeah. That’s the plan.”

It’s not really the plan. But if it happens organically, then yeah, I’ll take it. Maybe. Dean’s grim face when I told him I wasn’t going home with him pops into my mind, and I sigh.

I will not think of him right now.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m always thinking about him. I take a big slurp of my drink and then pull a menu toward me. I should probablyput something in my stomach before I get too wasted. I don’t want to embarrass myself.

“What would you like?” the bartender asks, appearing just when I need her to.

“Nachos, please. Oh, and some mozzarella sticks.”

“I’d avoid the mozzarella sticks. They’re not that great.”

“Well, hell.”

The bartender points to something, and I stare down at it. “Oh, jalapeño poppers. Yes, let’s do it. I need some spice in my life. Majorly.”

She winks and puts in my order. My eyes swivel around the room, taking in the men and women occupying the space once more. I’ve always gotten a good vibe from this place. It’s chill, easygoing. I think I should come here more often, and try to have a life outside of work and Dean.

A couple moves up next to me, making out with one another heavily until they finally pull apart to order drinks. The bigger guy looks like Dean, rough and masculine, while the other one is slighter and wearing a mini-skirt and heels.

“Love the outfit,” I tell the smaller one and they grin at me.

“Thanks,” they say, cheeks reddening. “Love yours as well.”

“Thanks, I’m Avery, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m Lexi, and this is my boyfriend, Ryder. He’s a mechanic and so hot.”

“That he is.”

With a cocky grin, Ryder picks up their drinks and leads Lexi onto the dancefloor, the two of them plastered to one another. And I can’t help but watch them move, the way they seem to love one another.

I want that, I think. I fucking want that.

My phone beeps, and I stare down at it.

Just the man I was trying not to think of.

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