Page 65 of Awaiting

“Are youtryingto get recognized?” she scolded.

“It’s dark over here. No one will see me,” Alex said, straightening up the hat and putting her arm back behind Bexley again.

Bexley knew she smiled. She hadn’t been able to stop it, though. She only hoped Stan hadn’t noticed, but when she looked over at him, it was clear that he had. He lifted an eyebrow at her, almost accusing her of something.

“So, you’re having a good time?” Stan repeated.

“Yes, I’m having a great time,” Alex said. “And your place is amazing, Stan. I really like it.”

“How many gay bars have you been to?” he asked.

“A few,” she said.

“Really?” he asked.

“When I was in university and just out.”

“And how does this one compare?” Stan asked.

“It’s much bigger. I love that there’s an outdoor patio.”

“And you’ll be staying inherewhere it’s nice and dark,” Bexley told her.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Alex mocked her with a salute.

“I’m going to get you some drinks. I’ll check on the bar and be right back, or I’ll have someone else bring them over and come back later, okay? There’s a great DJ in town tonight, so you should get up and dance if you want.” Stan winked at Bexley. “What can I get you?”

“What are you having?” Alex asked Bexley.

“A mojito.”

“Can I have one of those?”

“Sure,” Stan said. “Two mojitos coming up.”

Then, he walked toward the bar, leaving them at their booth, sitting right next to each other.

“So, what do you want to do?” Alex asked, turning toward Bexley, looking so cute in her excitement and stupid hat.

“Sit here.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s what I usually do when I’m here. Stan pops over when he can. I check email on my phone and read articles.”

“That’swhat you do when you come here?” Alex asked.

“Alex, I’ve been here a million times. I helped Stan put in that bar over there. It’s kind of like a second home. I’ve already gotten drunk here a hundred times, danced over there a few hundred times, and I’m not exactly in my early twenties anymore, so I usually have one drink now, talk to Stan a little, and head home to sleep.”

“So, you don’t dance anymore?” Alex asked.

“No, I don’t dance anymore. Alice used to dance with me sometimes. She’d also play wingwoman and try to get me to talk to women or for them to talk to me, but it’s just Stan and me now. He’s usually behind the bar or flirting with some hot guy he wants to take home. Sometimes, it feels like it’s just me these days.”

“Would you dance withme?” Alex asked.

“Two mojitos?”

“Hi, Tyrell,” Bexley greeted, looking up at one of the bartenders who had their drinks.

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