“Hilarious.”
Nolan took the seat beside me, next to the wall.
Rico set a full glass in front of him.
“What’s this?” Nolan asked.
“Coke. Unless you’d prefer diet. You’re her DD, right?” Rico didn’t wait for his response. He returned to making my drink, presenting it with a flourish.
I took a long sip and sighed. “Perfect as usual, Rico. Thanks.”
“Lemme know if you need anything else, champ.”
Nolan and I sat in silence for several long minutes. From the corner of my eye I watched him take in the space. The limited selection of top-shelf booze reflected in the faded mirror. The scuffed wooden bar spread out in a long, blocky C shape. The TVs suspended from the ceiling. The lone pool table, currently unused. The throwback jukebox, also quiet. The plastic molded bar signs—Hamm’s, Grain Belt, Olympia, Schlitz, Pabst Blue Ribbon—beer brands straight out of the 1960s. The customers, a mix of biker-looking types, eyes on the TVs, and couples sharing laughter over pitchers of beer. The lone cocktail waitress, Brenda, a well-preserved sixtyish woman and also Rico’s mother, loaded glasses in the undercounter dishwasher.
After Nolan pulled his phone out, I expected he’d start scrolling through it. But he set it aside, reached up and loosened his tie.
“Aren’t you worried about someone stealing your car?”
“It’s insured.” He sipped his Coke. “It’s also got an alarm system that’ll wake the dead and alert the cops.”
He’d said that loud enough so anyone listening in the bar knew not to fuck around with it.
I stirred my drink, a million other thoughts racing through my brain.
We must’ve sat there awhile, because finally, Nolan said, “Are you going to talk to me? Or do I have to wait until you’ve had several of those before you loosen up?”
“Fine. I’ll spill my guts. Have you ever been dumped?”
A beat passed. “No. I haven’t.”
Of course he hadn’t. “It sucks.”
I drained my drink and signaled to Rico for another. “It’d be easier to pretend this breakup blindsided me. But the truth is . . . I deserved to get kicked to the curb.”
“Why?”
“Besides the fact I’m a shitty girlfriend? Before Tyson showed up and confronted me, I hadn’t seen him in over a week. And in that week, he’d texted me twice. Which is two more times than I’d texted him.”
“That answers my next question.”
“Which is?”
“If you missed him, which would be no, since apparently you forgot all about him.”
I tossed ten bucks at Rico when he served the fresh drink.
“How long were you with Tyson?”
I licked the salt off the rim of my glass and took a sip. “Nine months. I knew him from University of North Dakota—UND. A bunch of us displaced hockey players who’d relocated to the Twin Cities hung out regularly. He and I usually ended up together, so we started dating. A few months in, he took leave from his assistant coaching job at a private high school to be a third-level assistant coach for the U.S. Olympic Women’s Ice Hockey Team.” I scowled. “Never occurred to me not to introduce him to my little sister, Dani, the newest member on the team, since he’d be part of her coaching staff. To be honest, I was relieved that Dani would have someone to look after her.” I sighed. “It’s my own fault. Out of sight, out of mind. Literally. Both of them. They talked about each other to me all the time, and I thought it was cute they were so friendly. Since returning from the Olympics, both Dani and Tyson went silent on me.”
“So you truly didn’t know about them sneaking around behind your back?”
I looked over at him. “If you were there, then you heard Tyson’s claim that nothing physical had happened between them.”
He studied me. “And you believe that?”
“Yep. Tyson is the good guy that all women want to be in a relationship with. Dani is the stereotypical good girl that all men are looking for.” I refocused on stirring my drink. “It’s like some code of honor thing for them. Neither of them would purposely hurt me, which is why this situation will be awkward as hell for a while.”
“You’re not in the wrong here.”
“Aren’t I?” Maybe that’s why I wasn’t bawling my eyes out.
And maybe—just maybe—a small part of me felt relieved. Ty and I had always been better friends than lovers. Sex hadn’t been lousy between us, it just hadn’t been a priority. I’d chalked up the lack of lust to conflicting schedules and then physical distance after he’d temporarily relocated to Florida.
“What’s going through your mind right now?” Nolan asked.
“That I need to find a great rebound ASAP.”
Nolan choked on his soda.
Rico grinned at me as he reached into the cooler. “Just say the word, champ, and I’ll jump through all the hoops to be your rebound man.”
Laughing, I shooed him away. My phone vibrated and I pulled it out.
Three missed calls from Dani. I shoved it back in my pocket and let the current call go to voice mail.
“Was that your sister?”
“Be interesting to see how many times she’ll call to try and explain.”
Nolan’s eyebrows lifted. “To explain? Not to beg your forgiveness?”
I shrugged and knocked back another swig.
Neither of us said anything for several long minutes. I’d started to tell him he could take off and I’d find my own way home, when he spoke.
“You play pool?”
I kept my expression bland. “Sometimes. Why?”
“Table is open. Let’s have a game.”
“Sure.” I motioned Rico over. “A shot of Cuervo and some quarters, please.”
Rico poured two shots; one for me and one for him. He winked. “This way you’re not drinkin’ alone.”
Lick, salt, shoot, squeeze. A little moan escaped when that burning warmth spread down my throat, followed by the sour tang on my tongue. God. I loved tequila shooters. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one. And that’s why I always limited myself to only one.
“Another?” Rico asked.
“Shot? No. Margarita? Yes, please.” From the corner of my eye I saw Nolan open his mouth, probably to warn me to slow down, so I held up my hand to stop him. “I’m entitled to drown my sorrows, Lund. You volunteered to be here as my DD, not my liver monitor. Feel free to leave anytime you’ve had enough.”