It’s just…
He’s so…
I take a deep breath. Exhale slowly.
I’m inventing this confusion.
Ryan and I are friends.
Just friends.
Period.
I tug at the soft fabric of my dress. “I started as a host. Eventually became a waitress. Then a bartender. I skipped around bars for a while. Until I settled in at Rock Bottom.”
“Dean talked about you all the time.”
“Bragged about how he was gonna bang the bartender?”
“Yeah.” His nails dig into the steering wheel. “He ever try?”
“Can we not?”
He nods fine.
“I liked it there. It was busy. The time went fast. My tips were great. Lots of hot guys left their numbers.”
“You slept with them?”
“Dated some, yes. Is that a problem?”
“No.”
“It was a great place to work. But there was something about selling booze all night then going home to…”
He stops at a light. Turns to me. Stares deeply into my eyes.
I don’t want to say this.
We’re nearly to my place. I can get out of the car, lock myself in the apartment, never admit to this again.
Never let him into my heart.
“I didn’t like that I made a living getting people drunk. But I was okay with it. Until one day, I wasn’t.”
I cross my legs. Smooth my skirt over my thighs. Ignore the intensity of Ryan’s stare.
I want to tell him this.
I want to show him my ugly parts.
If he thinks less of me…
That’s a risk I have to take.
My shoulders relax as I exhale. “There was this regular who always had the bar in stitches. She was on her third gin and tonic. Laughing. Telling the bar this epic story about how she met some famous actor. How he begged her to go back to his hotel room and she shot him down.”
“It was bullshit?”