The hell? “Are we going to be doing yoga?”
He laughed. “Maybe.”
“You’re awfully mysterious.” There was no way the guy who grimaced at yoga a minute ago had a sudden change of heart. This was no doubt nothing more than a booty call. Not that I was entirely opposed, but advance notice would set up my prior expectations.
“It’ll be fun. I promise.” He winked, and I was ninety-nine percent certain I’d need to shave closely and find my sexiest panties.
Wasn’t this exactly what I wanted? I was getting closer to Tristan, but I didn’t know if he saw me as a friend, a date, or a potential fuck buddy.
He leaned in for a kiss, and I closed my eyes, imagining where tomorrow night might lead. But he didn’t linger, so I was left wondering if this was a prelude to anything more.
He bounded down the steps, and I shut the door to find Aida hovering behind me, waiting.
“What the hell was that?”
I leaned back against the door. “I don’t know. I think . . .” I sighed. “I think it was a job interview.”
“I don’t know why you keep doing the same fool things, expecting different results.” She turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
I grabbed my backpack and peeked in to say good night and apologize to Marco. “I had no idea he was going to do that. I guess he saw an opportunity and couldn’t let it pass.”
“More like made an opportunity,” Aida muttered.
I put my hand on my hip. “Are you saying he planned this? He knew he’d find Marco sitting at the kitchen table so he flirted with me to walk me home?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Marco held up a hand. “Would you please take it down a notch? I can’t blame him for trying. But there’s probably nothing we can do for him right now. So you should know which of you is right soon enough.”
“Which one of us is right?” I asked.
“Yeah. Is the guy interested in you? Or is he interested in what you can do for him? If it’s the latter, he’ll stop pursuing you when you can’t help him.”
Marco could be so brutally honest at times.
“I suppose so.”
Aida grunted. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“You should have heard what he read tonight, though.” I tried to recall the words he’d used. “He’d written about me in his journal, and he called me a knockout. It sounded like he noticed me more than I thought back in college.” Although most of that was physical, and a lot of it borderline voyeurism, but hadn’t my interest in him been equally shallow? Still, he’d revealed some vulnerabilities when he walked me home. “Maybe he hasn’t changed that much, but maybe he has. Or what if we were always wrong about him?”
She snorted. “Whatever, Sierra. You make your own decisions.”
She turned back to the sink and began washing dishes, and Marco muttered something about digging up Tristan’s old job application to take a look.
Halfway down the stairs to my lair, a text message sent my phone vibrating. Sorry for tonight. I sometimes forget how to relax. Maybe tomorrow night could be a do-over.
And with that, I scored a point against Aida to move to the top of the leaderboard. Aida was wrong.
Aida was the queen of the grudge holders, which was why Marco worked so hard to stay on her good side. She still threw shade at me for the time I saved over her Super Smash Bros. game. And that was years ago.
I didn’t see the point in wasting energy on negative emotions. Focusing on unjustified fears and long-forgiven slights couldn’t be healthy. However, I wasn’t a patsy. If I trusted a guy and he betrayed me, he’d be done.
Yeah, I had reasons to mistrust Tristan, but I loved a good redemption story, so I hit the reset button. We were playing a whole new game now.
Chapter 14
In the deep recesses of my dreams, a voice niggled at me until I floated back toward consciousness. The drink. The bar. Alfie.
The free drink.
I sat bolt upright. I’d never paid Alfie for the gin and tonic.
I checked the clock. Half past one. The bar would close in thirty minutes. I rolled over, thinking I should forget about it until tomorrow, but my legs were already bouncing and I knew I’d never fall back asleep anyway.
The kitchen was dark and quiet as I crept out to my car. Opening the garage door would probably wake Aida, but she wasn’t my mom. Besides, they wouldn’t want me walking or biking across town in the wee hours of the morning. In my pajamas. Well, sweatpants and a T-shirt, anyway. I’d taken half a minute to put on a bra, brush my teeth, and don my tennis shoes.
Parking was easy to find. I had ten minutes to spare as I jumped out and raced to the bar doors, worried that maybe they’d closed early. But a couple of people staggered onto the sidewalk as I approached, and the muffled mmmph-mmmph-mmmph of the bass blossomed into a song I recognized from the radio.
Entering a bar at night always gave me the sense of going on a camping trip and finding myself in a cave as I transitioned from the cool open air into an encapsulated universe of stale cigarettes and the promise of sin. Maybe because I’d always arrived before sunset, Alfie’s place had never given me that vibe. Maybe because Alfie always welcomed me when I came in, the place felt safe and friendly. The few customers remaining at this hour were gathering belongings and heading toward the exit.
I climbed onto a barstool, scanning for Alfie’s smiling face, but Miranda looked up from the register. “Hey, Sierra. Sorry, you just missed last call.”
“Oh, I wasn’t here to order a drink. I’m looking for Alfie.”
“Ah.” She paused, holding a stack of bills in her hand. “Alfie’s gone home. Can I help you with something?”
“Gone home?” I pictured them in their apartment, waking in the morning together. He was so thoughtful, he probably made her breakfast while she slept in. She’d landed a good one. I should have been happy for her, but suddenly I wanted that drink I’d missed out on.
She finished counting a stack of bills. “What did you need? Should I call him?”
I slid the ten out of my pocket. “No. I forgot to clear my tab before I left earlier. He gave me a gin and tonic instead of the free drink. I wanted to square up.”
She dipped an eyebrow at me. “There aren’t any outstanding tabs here. He probably meant for it to be a comp. You’d have to talk to him about it.”
“Would you mention it when you see him?”
“Sure, but I won’t see him again until Monday. I’m off tomorrow.”
My head jerked over to her. “Aren’t you going home to him?”
She laughed. “To Alfie?”
“I figured—”
“Ha. No. I love Alfie to death. He’s a good boss and a great friend. But no. We just work together.”
I couldn’t explain the relief I felt, and it wasn’t really fair to poor Alfie that I’d been rooting for him to be single, like me. Like I wanted some solidarity with my loneliness. “I see. Well, I’ll try to drop in tomorrow night and figure it out.”
“Sure. No problem.”
I slid off the stool, somewhat disappointed that nothing had been resolved. Still, I would have been at home tossing and turning if I hadn’t at least tried. I waved to Miranda as I exited the bar and headed down the sidewalk to my car.