Page 12 of Come Back To Me

“Hey you.” I glanced sideways at David, who didn’t seem perturbed at all. He was studying Brian with mild interest. “I thought I was meeting you after work.”

Brian was on the shorter side, stocky. He wore his hair spiked up in the front and gelled flat in the back. It reminded me of how the boys in high school used to wear their hair.

“I thought I’d come in for a drink and walk over with you,” he said.

“A gentleman,” David mouthed to me, nodding in approval. I ignored him and smiled at Brian.

“Great. What can I get for you?”

“A beer and that appetizer you told me to get last time.”

“Sure,” I said, watching David warily. I put in Brian’s order and ran back to the kitchen to grab a rack of clean glasses. When I came back, Brian had moved stools to sit next to David and they were engaged in a lively conversation.

“Yara,” David said, “Brian and I went to the same high school. Three years apart. Isn’t that crazy?”

“So crazy,” I said between my teeth.

I tried to ignore them for the next thirty minutes, and they ignored me, laughing and clapping each other on the back like they were best friends.

It made my stomach roll to watch them.

When my shift was over, and I’d closed down the bar, David and Brian were standing outside talking while Brian smoked.

“Ready?” Brian asked when he saw me. He tossed his cigarette into the gutter and kicked back from the wall he was leaning against to come stand next to me.

“Yeah,” I said, eyeing David who looked smug.

Brian glanced back at him. “Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I asked David to come with us. Since you’re already friends…” I waved his comment away and smiled sweetly. Brian took a phone call and walked a step ahead of us.

“Not at all. Lovely of you to join us, David.” And when he was close enough I whispered, “Psycho motherfucker,” under my breath.

“I’ve never fucked a mother!” David said, cheerfully. “Though I’ve always wanted to.”

“What are you even getting at?” I hissed. “This is stalkery.”

“Yara, I’m disappointed. Brian’s a nice guy but, man, I had that haircut in tenth grade. And an accountant? What’s a girl like you doing having drinks with an accountant?”

“Shut up,” I hissed. Brian had just hung up the phone and was turning back to us.

“Sorry, guys,” Brian said. “Work, work, work—right?”

David gave him a thumbs up.

“So how do you two know each other?” he asked, looking from me to David.Too many questions, Brian.What are you, a fucking shrink?

“Well,” David said before I could answer. “I’m in love with Yara, have been for a while now, but she won’t date me.”

“He’s joking,” I said to Brian. “He’s bloody mental.” I didn’t know why I cared—I didn’t even like him. A car drove by and someone yelled something out the window.

David shrugged while Brian laughed awkwardly. The guys bounced back into conversation while I walked beside them silently fuming. But why was I mad? I glared at David and it was like he could feel me doing it. He turned and winked at me. Winked!

Fuck you, David Lisey.

The bar we were headed to was on Capitol Hill. I’d been once before and had gotten too drunk to walk home. The bartender recognized me as soon as I walked in.

“The drunk British girl!” he said, slamming his fist on the bar. “Best kisser!”

I pressed my lips together trying not to smile. According to my work colleagues who I’d come here with, I’d leaned across the bar and kissed him on the mouth when he made the best Old Fashioned I’d ever tasted.

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