“Oh—okay.”
I take the first sip of my drink. It’s strong, but this guy always makes them strong. I like that. I pull out my phone and shoot Emmet a text.
You didn’t tell me you were going on vacation.
“So,” someone says, hopping onto the stool beside me. It’s one of the guys who hangs out here all the time. One I see singing karaoke often.
“So,” I repeat, giving him a cautious smile.
“You and Bar Daddy?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“What?” I say, laughing. “No, it’s not like that.”
“Uh huh…” he says, grinning.
“Leave him alone, Nathanial,” Pete warns dryly.
“I’m just being friendly,” Nathanial says innocently.
“He’s fine,” I add, truly fine with the conversation. Then I turn to him. “Emmet and I are just friends.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Maybe, but have you seen the way he looks at you?”
“Uh…”
“The man is in love with you.”
“Nathanial,” Pete hisses.
“It’s just conversation!” he says.
I hold my hand up to Pete, facing Nathanial.
“What do you mean he’s in love with me?”
“You can’t act like you didn’t know.”
I scoff, grabbing my drink. “Emmet is not in love with me.”
“Are you blind?” he asks. “Anyone could see it.”
“No,” I say with a firm shake of my head.
“Yes, honey,” he says sympathetically. Then he frowns. “Wait, are you not—oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no,” I say. “I am. Well, no. I’m… bi. Emmet and I were a thing years ago. Well, not a thing, but together. Sort of? I don’t know. It’s complicated and now I’m rambling.”
“You’re fine.” He laughs. “Pete, can I get another drink?” he calls out.
He doesn’t say anything as he waits for his drink, and all I can think about is Emmet.
Is he still in love with me? There’s no way. It’s been fourteen years since I left. We were just kids then. Clearly, he’s moved on. We’ve seen each other a few times, we’ve texted often, and never once did he come across as flirty.
Or did he?
I think back on our conversations, wondering if I’ve been missing signs.
“I know he walks you home,” Nathanial says with a smirk.