Page 7 of At My Worst

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrassed, I don’t fuck random people, but now I can’t say that anymore can I?

“Hmmm,” he says softly.

“I think I should go,” I say as I push down the blanket and turn, planting my feet on the ground.

I slip my feet into my flip-flops and stand up. My head throbs, and my vision gets fuzzy. I run my hands over my face again and take a deep breath, and that is when I feel it. His warm, gentle, yet rough hands holding my arms.

I look up and see him looking at me with concern. His warmth starts spreading across my skin, making my heart race from the physical touch.

“Eat something first. You don’t look too good,” he whispers.

“Okay,” I say in a defeated voice.

I don’t feel good, but I need to keep going. I don’t know where, but I know I have to keep moving, but eating something won’t hurt.

“Pancakes and scrambled eggs, with coffee,” he says.

I nod. It is normal, I guess, for him to remember my order from yesterday, but at the same time, his remembering warms me in a way I can’t put into words just yet.

He releases his hold on me, taking the warmth with him, causing my stomach to twist into knots. He turns, and I slowly follow him around the bed and out of the room down a narrow hallway. He walks into the bar area and pulls out the chair I sat in yesterday.

I sit and watch him grab a few things, and then he walks through the swinging doors. I can hear him moving around as I sit back in my seat.

The bar is empty which is weird for it being noon.

The man comes through the swinging doors with a plate, stops at the counter, and pours coffee into the cup. He turns and locks eyes with me as he places the plate and cup of coffee in front of me. He rests his hands on the counter and watches me as I lean forward and grab the fork.

“So you going to tell me your name?” He asks softly.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t tell me your name last night,” he says with a curious look.

A small laugh leaves me as I sit back in the seat. “Bianca, my name is Bianca.”

“Nice to meet you, Bianca. I am Alexander,” he says calmly.

“Is this your bar?” I ask, looking around.

He nods. “It is the family business, but yes, I run it.”

I pick up the cup and slowly blow on it as I keep my eyes on Alexander. He moves back and leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You just passing through?” He asks, breaking the little bit of silence.

I nod. “I think so. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t know where I am going or what I am doing,” I confess to him.

“Hmmm,” he says more to himself than to me. “Well, you can always stay here. Port Angeles is a small town, but it is good and quiet,” he confidently says.

“Maybe I will, not sure yet. I should have already got back on the road, but I chose to get drunk and fuck a stranger instead,” I say with amusement.

He laughs and shakes his head. He has a beautiful smile, and his laugh is like fresh air to me.

“There is a house for rent down the street,” he says, catching me a little off guard.

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