Page 14 of Most Likely to Match
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I slap my hat down on the bar, drag my hands through my hair. “It took a long time for me to process all of it, and by the time I did, it was like I didn’t want to talk to her about it anymore. I didn’t want to sit there through her apology because I knew if I did, I’d forgive her.”
Nick drains his cocktail. His cheeks are flushed and his glasses askew in a way I don’t think he notices. “Isn’t that good?” he asks. “To forgive someone?”
“I don’t have proof, but I think Chloe was a part of it, you know? All the shit that went down with her friends? I think she took part somehow. Like how did they get her phone without her knowing? And if she was a part of it, it means she wasn’t the person I thought she was. Or at least, not the person I wished she could be. And then I’d have to admit that I wasn’t the judge of character I thought I was. But if she apologizes— even now— I’m scared I’ll forgive her. And ifI forgive her for that, I mean, what’s the point? I’m a fucking doormat, you know? Again.”
I finish off my drink. “What is this? It’s good.”
Nick nods, topping me up again with this frosty pink elixir. “Cosmo,” he says.
“Right.” Cosmo. I know those. “I’m a Samantha,” I say.
His eyes go wide. “No shit. Me, too.” We drink to that.
“Okay. Okay,” he says, staring intently into my eyes but leaning heavily on his elbows. “I can’t tell you what to do, man. Only you know that. It’s complicated.”
“Nuanced,” I say.
“It’s fuckingnuanced,” Nick agrees. “Forgive her. Don’t. I don’t care. I support you, man. I love you,” he says, like a revelation.
I laugh. I’m realizing, just now, I love Nick, too.
“I love you, too, man.” We tap glasses. Drink.
“Except I will tell you to not be her fake boyfriend. Faking it, that’s bad. Fake anything. Except boobs.” He points a finger gun at me, and I nod. “Fake boobs aregreat.”
“So great.” I nod and then stop. Nodding is actually making me kind of dizzy.
“But it sounds like she needs help. And it sounds like you’re not totally against helping her? Maybe?”
I shrug, ’cause yeah, maybe. “Who am I to deny assistance to a beautiful woman?” I ask.
“Famous last words,” Nick says with a resigned sigh.
Some of the cosmo sloshes over the rim of my glass and onto my hand. I suck it off, to which Nick nods approvingly.
“Maybe you can find a way to help each other,” he suggests. “Maybe that’s what you can do instead of all thoseI’m sorrys.” He makes a veryboo-hooface. “AndI forgive yous. I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I’m just a bartender, you know? What do I know?”
“Hey.” I reach across the bar to pat his shoulder but miss and fall halfway over the wood. We both dissolve into giggles. Eventually, he helps me back into my stool.
“All I’m saying is, you keep punishing Chloe for something that happened over a decade ago, right?”
“Yeah.” It’s weird, ’cause I know it’s true, but hearing Nick say it, suddenly it’s like,truetrue.Reallytrue.
He squints at me through his glasses even though we’re in a basement and it’s not very bright down here. “Mostly you’re just punishing yourself, though.”
Whoa.
“Whoa.”
He nods sagely.
“What the hell are you chucklebutts doing?” Jasmine stands in the doorway to the back hall, a pen sticking out of the back of her red hair, her lips pursed.
Nick’s eyes grow wide. “Baby, we were just talking.”
“We’re having cosmos.” I hold up my empty glass.
