Page 4 of Rebound With Me
“Vince!” yells out the bartender. “You asshole—where’ve you been?”
Vince raises his hand in the air. “Everywhere!”
The bartender is cute and bearded and tattooed. He tosses a dishtowel over his shoulder and saunters over to the front of the bar. They clap hands, and Vince gestures for me to join him. “Nina, this is Denny. Denny, this is Nina’s first time through that door.”
“Hey there, Nina,” Denny grins. “Hope it won’t be your last.”
“It’ll beyourlast if you don’t watch it.” Vince points at Denny.
“Nice to meet you, Denny.”
Vince leans over the counter and says something in Denny’s ear. Denny looks me up and down, smiling. He nods, and lifts the flip-up counter for Vince.
“Take a seat, young lady,” Vince says to me. He nods at the two women at the bar who have been ogling him since we walked in, but shifts his attention right back to me. “One not-too-girly-not-too-fruity drink with an edge, coming right up.” He holds up a large glass.
“Just one?” I ask. “You aren’t going to join me?”
“I’m having a beer.”
I give him a stern look, the kind that my principal ex-fiancé gives students when they say the wrong thing.
“I’mnothaving a beer?”
“That’s another one of my conditions. You’re having what I’m having.”
He gives me a look that gives me the kind of buzz that makes me wonder if I even need alcohol anymore.
“I’m starting to wonder what I’ve gotten myself into here, Nina.”
“We’re on the same page, then.”
He smiles and shakes his head as he grabs one more of those large glasses.
“That’s a pretty big glass.”
“It’s a pretty big drink.”
He starts reaching for bottles on the wall behind the bar, and I’m not the only one who’s enjoying the view. The folk-rock song transitions seamlessly to a dreamy sexy techno instrumental ballad, and my body starts swaying a little, as if it comes to bars like this and sways to music all the time.
I consider sending a text to Marnie, to let her know where I am, but I don’t want to take my eyes off of Vince’s hands, as per our agreement. He watches me watch his hands, as he pours and measures and shakes and strains. The final product is blue, and the cherry garnish does absolutely nothing to make it look less devastating. He places both glasses on the counter in front of me.
“Hang on,” he says, “we’ll get a booth. Don’t drink it yet.”
“Uh, don’t worry about it.”
He doesn’t make eye contact with me again until he’s finished cleaning up, clapped hands with Denny, and come around to my side of the bar.
“We don’t have to pay for these?”
“Nah. That guy owes me so many favors I could drink here for free for the rest of my life.” He picks up the glasses and nods towards a booth. “Care to join me?”
“Those drinks look like they’ve got more than a bit of an edge.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” He gestures for me to slide into the booth, and sits down next to me. Our thighs and arms touch.
I look over at him through heavy eyelids. I may be giving him bedroom eyes, and I’m not even trying. It’s like my body has been waiting for this opportunity for years and it’s not going to let me screw this up by thinking all my usual thoughts.
“So what’d you make us?”
