Chapter 5
Iwasout of the car, looking around, before Ginger could start nagging. We were in a seedy parking lot, and based on the level of light, I’d say it was mid to late morning.
“I’ll save you from having to ask and tell you that, no, I don’t remember this place,” I said insolently.
“Are you sure? Take a careful look around.”
I made a show of spinning in a circle with my arms outstretched and my palms facing the sky. Brick buildings with a bit of graffiti and more than a bit of crumbling, cigarette butts littering the asphalt, a painted sign reading “The Other Team” over a nondescript door.
“I’m sure, Ginger. Never been here. Looks like you entered the wrong coordinates into the time-machine GPS. Maybe you got me confused with your last forcible detainer or something.” Ginger frowned more deeply with each sarcastic jab I made. “Should we get back into my car and try it again? Or are you ready to call it a night and release your hostage?”
That skinny arm moved faster than I expected, and then I was caught in Ginger’s grip and metaphysically yanked into the bar.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I panted as I planted my hands on my knees and tried to keep my stomach from puking up the pretzels I’d eaten on the plane from Seattle. Once I thought I’d be able to hold back the nausea, I glared at my assailant. “What the hell, Ginger? Did you have to, uh…” Okay, words to describe being transported to another location purely through the power of touch… I had nothing in my mental dictionary for that one. “Did you have to be so rough about it?” I finally asked.
She gave me a self-satisfied smirk. “No, dear, I sure didn’t.” Then she lurched forward, landing both hands on my chest, and shoved me so hard I lost my balance and almost fell down.
“Hey! What was that?” I yelled.
“You were standing in the doorway, dear. I needed to move you out of the way. Oh, and I’ll save you from having to ask and tell you that, no, I didn’t have to be so rough about that, either.”
I recognized my own words from a few minutes prior so I just glared at her without saying anything else. The door next to us swung open, and Jude walked in, heading straight for the bar. He immediately stole my attention, and I forgot all about my pissing match with the guide from hell.
His sandy-blond hair stuck up at weird angles, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and he was chewing on his full red lips. I wanted to reach out and wipe away the worried frown on his handsome face.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.
“Oh, nothing quite yet,” Jude replied. “I’m actually looking for someone.”
“Aren’t we all?” came the answer with a chuckle. “Seriously, though, we don’t usually get many people here this early, especially in the middle of the week. Right now it’s just the two of us and a sketchy guy who’s been knocking ’em back since I opened.”
Jude groaned and turned around, surveying the dark bar. “Where is he?” Then he must have spotted the figure huddled in one of the corner booths because he gasped. “Shit. Never mind. That’s him. Thanks.”
The bartender looked surprised. “Really, that guy? Well, he’s drunk before noon.” He looked down at his wristwatch and then continued. “Strike that, before eleven. I’d say his parents have already done the majority of the heavy lifting here. Bully for you, man, the ones with the fucked-up childhoods are usually easier to get into bed. Especially after a few drinks. And you didn’t even have to pick up the tab. Hey, be a buddy and make sure he doesn’t puke in my parking lot, will ya?”
Jude nodded distractedly and walked toward the guy slumped in the booth. I followed him, wanting to know whom he’d come to see. The thought that Jude had come running to some seedy bar, frantic with worry about another man, had me feeling… Huh, was that jealousy? No, that didn’t make any sense. I was just…
“Ethan?”
At first I thought Jude was talking to me, but when I started to answer, I saw the man in the booth take off his hat and sunglasses and then raise his glassy eyes up to Jude.
“Hey, J. Whatcha doing here?” Past Me slurred.
Jude knelt on the bench and pushed my hair out of my face.
“You called me, E, remember?”
“I did?”
I wanted to smack Past Me for sounding like such an idiot, but Jude just smiled fondly and rubbed his thumbs across my cheeks in a soothing gesture.
“Uh-huh, you sure did. Said you hated living in a movie-star mansion and you wanted to be a regular guy. I guess you decided regular guys get covered up like they’re in the Taliban and start drinking first thing in the morning.”
Past Me blinked in confusion. “Drinking?”
Jude chuckled. “Yeah, drinking. In a gay bar, no less.”
“This is a gay bar? How can you tell?” Past Me and Present Me both looked around frantically, hoping to find God knows what.
