The office door clicks shut.
I stare at it.
And frown.
Chapter Eleven
GAGE
Strolling into The Local, I scan the bar for an empty seat, finding only one, the same barstool she pulled me off of.
Hesitating momentarily, I walk over, calling to my friend, the bartender, “Hey Ralphie.”
He juts his chin, “Gage!” while pouring a Sweetwater draft as I take a seat and dust crumbs from the wooden bar weathered with carved initials and stains preserved by layers of verathane.
The rugged vibe draws exactly what the name claims — locals. Nobody comes here to show off. It’s where you relax and that’s it. And I need that right now. Been a rough week.
Here you could put your feet up anywhere and nobody would tell you to stop. Unless you put them on somebody else’s back, I guess.
I know the menu by heart, but I lift an abandoned one from where it lays near the guy on my left. He’s got his back to me, facing his date and glass only a quarter full. Menu’s probably been there an hour or more.
I thumb it open just for something to look at, keep my mind busy to avoid the reason I’m here. I’m kicking myself because all I want to do is scan the place for a redhead I didn’t get the number of, hoping I’d run into her and have an excuse to get permission to call.
I know where she lives.
Not the exact apartment.
But it wouldn’t look good if I trekked through four buildings in search of one door. It did occur to me, though.
Didn’t act on it. I’ve got more self-control than that. I’ve just got no other way to get ahold of Cherry and it’s been driving me nuts.
Ralphie strolls up. “I’ve gotta bring my Mustang in again, Gage.”
I set the menu down and meet his eyes. “What’s wrong with it?”
“AC went out.”
“Easy fix. Expensive though.”
Ralphie laughs, “Everything’s expensive when you restore an old car.” He swipes up a dirty coaster to my right and frisbee’s it into the trash bin. “But do we care?”
I smirk, “Nope.”
“No, we do not. I would rather sink money into her than a real girl.” He dips down, sliding open the half-fridge to pull out my favorite beer: Monday Night Brewing’s “The Tears of My Enemies.”
I almost, almost, turn around to survey the place, but force myself to focus on that beer.
Nice and frosty.
His fingers leave a mark.
Top popped and tossed.
“Hey, so how’d it go with Lexi?”
My eyebrows rise. “You know her?”
“Sure, they come in here all the time.”
“Ah,” I mutter under my breath because it hits me that if they were here right now he wouldn’t have said that. He’d have told me instead:
Sure they’re right over there.
They’re right behind you.
She’s wondering where you are.
“So, how’d it go? She just have you give her a ride home?”
I cock an eyebrow, interested in the fact that Ralphie didn’t assume I slept with her. Good sign. It means she’s not normally taking guys home.
“Yeah,” I shrug, “I just drove her back to her place. Made him think she was coming home with me to get him jealous.”
“Man, that guy was pissed,” Ralphie laughs, “Lexi really nailed him. I loved every second of it. What an asshole! Cheating on a girl like Lex? God, what an idiot!” Noticing an empty glass pulls him back to work and leaves me ruminating over this information. From his eyes he’s got a crush, and I don’t blame him.
I lift the menu but don’t see the words.
Yep, can’t stalk her apartment complex.
That’s not how you treat a Cocker.
But I definitely want to see her again. Can’t deny it now that I’m sitting here even when I knew I was so fucking tired I should be in bed after this rough week.
Yet here I am.
On the same barstool.
The only one available.
So fucked up.
Ralphie comes over. “You getting somethin’ to eat, Gage?”
“Yeah, lemme get a…” I set the menu down. “cheese Impossible burger and chili fries.”
He pokes at his computer to send my order to the kitchen, asking, “You get her number?”
A smile flashes, one he doesn’t see. By the time he turns around I’m stoic, as usual. “She’s in love with that guy.”
Ralphie plants his hands on the bar, gazing at the memory of her beauty. “I gotta say, first time she walked in here, my heart stopped beating. She’s got this fantastic mix of class and brass that I just can’t get enough of it.”
“Ever do anything about it?” I ask, guessing the answer is no from his wishful smile.
“I tried. She politely set me straight.” He locks eyes with me. “And by politely I mean she said, That’s real sweet, Ralphie, but it’s never gonna happen.”
I snort a laugh, “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He taps the bar and walks off, calling back, “Only made me love her more!”
Chuckling to myself since I can picture her saying it — the sweetness on her smile combined with the knife of her tongue — I turn around to do what I came for, even though I know it’s fruitless. When a man is pulled, he’s got to act on it.
It’s Thursday.
People prepping for the weekend.
Only two tables empty — and one has yet to be cleared from the patrons who just left.
No Samantha.
No Zoe.
And no Lexi Cocker. I dig my phone from my back pocket to look up Ralphie’s Mustang to see about parts, what it’ll cost him to fix. I’ll give him a good price as I give all my friends. Can’t do it at cost since my time is as valuable as anyone’s else’s. Nobody should work for free.
A grumble in my stomach welcomes the food, and I dig in, halfway through by the time Ralphie comes back to hang out at this end of the bar. Place is jumpin’ now, and it’s gonna get busier since the weather is so good.
He grabs one of my fries and eats it.
“How is it?”
“Fucking amazing.”
We both look
