AsIwipethe counter, I scrub a little too hard at a condensation ring. I wish I could wipe away my poor attitude just as easily. It’s been a week since Colby came into the bar, and he hasn’t been back since. I know he wasn’t here the days I was off either, because Mac would have told me.
Colby said he’d see me soon. Clearly our ideas of soon are different. I roll my eyes, letting out a huff.
Though I'm irritated with his obvious lie, I want to hear him call me Andi again. No one has ever called me that, and I absolutely love it. Andrea is stuffy, and Andi is light and fun. I’m not sure why I’ve never thought of the nickname, or even why my parents didn’t. I mean Mac’s real name is Michael, and I have a brother, Robert, nicknamed Beau. So it isn’t for lack of creativity on their part.
“Hello? I asked for another beer.” The customer down the bar waves his empty bottle at me. Shit, I really zoned out there.
“Coming up.”
The door chimes, and my eyes drift from the bottle of beer I’m opening for a customer to see who’s entering. Colby. My heart beats so fast, I have to command it to slow down. I need to act cool, casual. Slowly, I hand the beer to my customer, smiling, then keep track of him out of the corner of my eye. He sits in the center of the bar, grabs a bowl of pretzels, and patiently waits for me to notice him.
Dreamy blue eyes dance with amusement as I approach. I take in the dark fitted shirt he’s wearing; the short sleeves show off his toned arms. My eyes dart to his. One eye has the smallest hint of yellow, indicating an old bruise. And his lip has a tiny cut that’s almost healed.
My heart battles with my brain for a moment, and wins. I reach out and run my thumb across the cut, and he doesn’t stop me. The heat from his flesh radiates through my fingertips. His lips are smooth, except for the rough cut, and I want them on mine. Resting my elbows on the bar for leverage, I push forward, my feet coming off the ground to reach for him. My lips press softly against the cut, then I pull away, pushing myself back to the ground.
Without missing a beat, I grab a glass and fill it with water for him. “Coors?”
“Actually, could you make me a mixed drink?” He tries to hide a smirk under his hand, but he isn’t doing a great job.
Smiling widely, I'm excited to make another drink for him. I’m going to give him something less sweet this time, so I mix an old-fashioned and set it in front of him. He sips it, licks his lips, and nods in approval. A burst of pride bubbles in my chest, and I clap my hands.It's exciting making something new for him, and I'm enjoying this game we've got going.
“What happened to your face?”
His nose scrunches, and he shakes his head. “Doesn’t really matter.” He drags his hand across his face.
“How was your week?” I don’t want to push him to tell me something he doesn’t want to.
His smile returns. Despite the marks on his face, it seems he's had a pleasant week. Colby runs his finger along the rim of his drink and I lick my lips, imagining his finger running along them in the same way. They’d probably be rough, firm against my mouth, and they’d definitely be warm. “It was a good week, actually. Successful.”
I snort.“That isn’t cryptic. You come in here with a messed-up face, but you had a successful week?”
“Well, you didn’t see the other guy.” He tosses me a smug look over the top of his glass as he takes a sip.
“Oh? You gave it to him worse, then? Good to know.”
“I mean, you’ve never seen me in a bar fight.” He winks with a smirk.
Glancing down at his knuckles, I notice there isn’t any swelling or bruising. So I decide not to be an asshole and I don’t call him out for the lack of evidence of a mutual fight. He was definitely not the winner of said fight. It isn’t my business, and I’m glad I can finally see him. I don’t want to make it awkward, so I causally change the subject. “So, what did you say you do for a living?”
A chuckle escaped his lips. It's deep and throaty, and I roll my shoulders to hide the shiver he sends down my spine. “I didn’t. But I… invest in local business.”
“Another cryptic message.” I wink as another group of customers come in and I hurry to tend them.
They order a couple of beers. Shocker. I practically throw their drinks at them so I can get back to Colby. “You want another old-fashioned?”
He says yes, so I take the dirty glass and fill up a fresh one.
“What about you?” He asks. “Is bartending a career for you?”
“It isn’t.” I pause as I make his drink. “I have a bachelor’s degree in political science and I just finished my second year of law school. Bartending helps pay the tuition. I don’t think I can afford much more student loan debt.”
Colby shifts awkwardly and clears his throat. I guess he’s not impressed that I want to be a lawyer. In fact, I would say it makes him uncomfortable. He darts his eyes to his glass and avoids looking at me. I feel like he is struggling with something, and just when I think he is going to shut me out, he looks up and smiles. “A lawyer? What kind?”
I shrug, because honestly, I’m not sure. I just know I want lots of money. My family had none growing up. I watched my brothers struggle to help Mom put food in our mouths, then I watched them create their own success. Mac with his bar, and Beau joining the military. Without Mac’s help, I couldn’t have even afforded college. “I’m not sure. I have time to figure it all out.”
Mac comes in from the back, his typical broody mood in full effect as he approaches. He glances at Colby, then back at me. As he hands me an envelope, he says, “You can get out of here. This is for Haley. It’s cash."
I nod and run my hand through my hair. Anxiety settles in my stomach. I don’t want to go to this party alone, but one of us has to stay at the bar. Haley’s leaving for her residency in Texas tomorrow, and one of her college pals is throwing a party for her tonight. After her residency, she has high goals of becoming a field surgeon with the Army. I really wish she'd stay here, safe in California. I'm not ready for her to move on. This is just another step towards my best friend deploying into a war zone.