Page 71 of The Barkeep and the Bro

“You really seem happy. Glowing. Almost giddy.”

“I went from never smiling to giddy?” I kept my head down, thanked the cashier, and took my purchase.

“I mean it. You just have this light. Well, for you. I saw you in the kitchen earlier prepping the food and mouthing along to some song in your head. It’s a scientific fact that sad, grumpy people don’t sing.”

Thanks to Charlie, “Ironic” had been playing in a loop in my head all day. It was annoyingly catchy, and the thought of him singing along to it made my damn heart lift.

Apparently, it made me borderline giddy.

Back in the car, I managed to change the subject to Josh, and Cal went on a rant about standardized testing and the uptight PTA moms at the school. The muscles in my face strained while keeping a lid on any smiles.

When we returned to the estate, I bumped into Hannah in the lobby. Her hair and makeup were done, an odd match against her casual sweater and jeans. She snaked her arms around me, ignoring the shopping bag in my hand.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“Vince said he wanted to talk to you.”

What did her husband want to talk to me about? We got along fine, mostly talked about hockey. More extended conversations proved challenging.

“Did he say what it’s about?”

She shook her head no against my chest. She looked at me with watery eyes. “Our little girl…”

“I know. They grow up so fast.”

Hannah got emotional at big life events. She once told me that she saw her life as an ongoing TV show, and momentous occasions made her think of clip show episodes where you flashed back through the years, remembering all the good times with the characters. She indulged her love of the rearview mirror, while I preferred to keep looking forward.

“It feels like only yesterday I was teaching her how to put on makeup, how to tie her shoes.” She wiped away a tear with her blue-colored nails.

My leg buzzed with a text. I checked my phone to make sure it wasn’t anything urgent, and my eyes nearly shot out of my head cartoon style.

Charlie texted me a selfie from the staff bathroom shirtless with his jeans around his ankles, his glorious cock framed by tight white boxer briefs.

Wanna meet me in the bathroom?

Jesus, another sext? While I was comforting my ex-wife? I forgot how irrepressibly horny twentysomethings could be.

I tried to pull away, but Hannah wasn’t letting go. She hugged me like the armoire Rose clung to inTitanic, one of the last movies we saw together before she got pregnant.

“Do you remember when we took her to her first day of kindergarten?”

“Uh, yeah, I do.” I rubbed her back with one hand and slipped my phone into my pocket with the other. I willed my cock not to get hard with Hannah pressed against me.

“She just walked right in. She didn’t cry like the other kids. And remember when she stopped at the door and blew us a kiss.”

“From day one, she was a badass.” My eyes crinkled with a nostalgic smile.

“It feels like yesterday.”

“It does.” My damn phone buzzed again, and blood instantly rushed to my groin.

I made sure her head was against my chest as I checked the new message.

I’m waiting for you, boss…he texted with a pic of his rock-hard dick outlined in his underwear. That dick felt stupendous in my mouth.

I leaned my hips away from Hannah like I was some middle schooler at his first slow dance. This guy was going to be the death of me, wasn’t he?

“Ellie’s turned out wonderful, thanks to you,” I said, smoothing a now sweaty hand over her hair. “You’ve been a great mother and a great role model.”

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