“Too much.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m one of six kids. Lucky number three.”
“That’s a big family.”
“Yeah. Your classic oversized Catholic family. I was born eleven months after my sister, Chloe.”
“Irish twins!”
“Exactly. Most of us were both within a year or two of each other. Except for Alice, who just turned fifteen. She was a bit of a surprise.”
The beers arrive and we take large sips. It’s hoppier than I’m used to, but it goes down easy.
“How about yourself?”
“You’re looking at it. Only child.”
“Wow. I can’t even imagine.” The conversation continues smoothly and I’m relieved that there are no awkward silences. Granted, we don’t seem to have much in common. We listen to different music, he reads non-fiction whereas I like novels, he watches sports and I like baking shows. Aside from being virtual opposites, we get along swimmingly. We laugh at the same things, and I feel genuinely at ease in his presence, though the beer may be helping with that. It is becoming clear, as I sit close to him in this dimly lit bar, that my body does not react to him. There’s no magic spark between us. I like him, and like being around him, but nothing about him makes me want to drag him out of here and take him to bed.
I’m listening to him tell me a snort-worthy story about one of his more difficult clients when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Before I’m able to turn my head, an actual shadow is cast over me. I look up to see Josh looming above us. No words are exchanged, we simply stare at each other for what feels like minutes. His expression is neutral, and I can’t read him. What on earth is he doing here?
“Hey,” I finally muster.
“Hey,” he says in return. This is going so great.
“Hi.” Andrew joins the conversation and Josh focuses on him for the first time. His smile is relaxed as he offers him his hand and Andrew accepts it hesitantly.
“Hey, man. You must be the work friend?” Am I imagining the extra emphasis on the word “friend”? Josh continues to smile and shake his hand. Andrew returns the smile but sits up straighter.
“Sure. And who might you be?”
“This is Josh!” I say, slapping the man in question on the forearm and using more force than necessary. “You remember I told you about my friend who just moved here?”
“Right.” Andrew nods and looks him over. “You still need a gym membership?” I want to be anywhere except this bar right now.
“I’m managing.” Josh shrugs. They continue to stare at each other until a fourth player enters the game.
“What’s up guys? I’m Callum!” A friendly-looking blond with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen joins the party. I vaguely remember Josh mentioning his college friend who lives in the area. He is the only one of us who appears to be enjoying himself, and despite my growing anxiety, I like him immediately.
The waitress arrives and we order a round of beers. The two seats on my right have become available and Josh picks the stool next to me, inching it closer so it’s touching mine.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, leaning nearer so he can hear me. Our thighs touch and I can smell the clean scent of his shampoo. I want to wash my bedsheets in it so I can roll around in it every night.
“Grabbing an end-of-the-week beer with an old friend. You?” There is a mischievous glint in his eyes, and now I’m certain he has come here with the sole purpose of screwing with me. My confusion clears and is replaced with white-hot anger. It starts in my belly and travels up my throat until I have to purse my lips to hold it in. He’s figured out I have feelings for him, but rather than reject me, he ignores it. But I decide to go out with someone else and he shows up to play mind games with me. I can’t think of a time when I’ve been more furious with someone. I want to pour my new beer over his head and storm out, but I take a long drink from the glass, finishing a third of it. I set it down and return my full attention to Andrew.
“It’s gotten really crowded in here,” I yell over the music, attempting to inch my chair closer to his, but it gets stuck. Andrew grabs the stool and pulls it closer, but he pulls so hard I’m momentarily knocked into his lap. We both laugh as I make my way back to my seat. I take another sip from my beer and ask Andrew about his plans for the weekend. We continue our conversation, but I notice his eyes flick up above my head every minute or so and I’m certain that Josh is keeping an eye on us.
I drain my beer and tell Andrew that I can’t be out late, and he offers to walk me to my apartment. We pay for our beers and get ready to head out. Josh catches me by the hand before I can take off. The playfulness in his expression is gone.
“I can walk you home,” he says so quietly that I barely hear him. I can see the regret in his eyes, but it’s not enough. That train has sailed. Or taken off. Whatever it is that trains do. I pull my hand back and he lets it go easily.
“Don’t trouble yourself. Andrew’s got me covered.” I coldly paraphrase his words at the sporting goods store, and his jaw clenches. Before he can respond, I turn to his friend, “It was very nice to meet you, Callum.”
“I’m so glad I came!” Callum responds with the charm and energy of a golden retriever. I can tell he has been enjoying the show. I smile at him and turn to leave, not giving Josh another glance.
It is much colder outside now as we head up the hill in the direction of my apartment. I pull my denim jacket closed and fold my arms tightly across my chest out of habit, not because I’m cold. How could I possibly be cold when my blood is boiling?
Seriously? Where does Josh get off acting like that? He doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me? Is this some sort of misguided attempt at protecting me? I don’t need him or anyone else to look after me, I’ve been self-sufficient since I was a child. I’m so busy planning verbal assaults to use on him later that I almost miss Andrew’s question.
“So, you two used to date?”
