“What can I get you?” I ask. “Another beer?”
“Sure,” he says. “And your name. Unless you want me to keep calling you Dimples for the rest of our lives.”
Luke’s eyes widen playfully as he whispers a deliberate “Oops” at this, and produces a dollar bill from his pocket, slipping it into the jar. “I came prepared tonight,” he says, watching me pour an IPA into a pint glass. “Just in case you were working again.”
I try not to linger on the thought that he specifically brought a pocketful of singles with him for me and this little game.
“It’s Lon—” I start to say, just as the bar door opens and Mia walks in with Ansel behind her. Luke’s head turns toward them just as I finish with a mumbled “—don.”
After a beat, he looks back up at me, eyes oddly tight. He nods quickly. “Nice to officially meet you.”
I’m pretty sure he didn’t get my name, but if he’s fine not knowing it, I’m fine not repeating it.
Another customer sits at the bar and waves to get my attention. I slide Luke’s beer over to him and smile as he looks up, the coaster touching the edge of his hand. “That’s five dollars.”
Blinking at me slowly, he says, “Thanks,” and pulls out his wallet.
I move to help the new customer, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Luke slap a bill down on the bar and return to his friends without waiting for change. Either he didn’t leave a tip, or he left a big one.
Unfortunately for my determination to find him douchey, I’m pretty sure I can guess which.
Two whiskey sours, four Blue Moons, and a pitcher of margaritas later, I’m at the register. Mia, Ansel, and Harlow are standing nearby, waiting for Finn before they all head out to a movie. I watch them for the span of three deep breaths, struggling for what feels like an eternity over my relationship ambivalence. On the one hand, I see the people around me so happy—some of them even married—and I want that. On the other hand, I know I’m not ready.
It’s been just over a year since Justin and I ended things, and I still remember what it’s like to be paired off like that, where all plans have to be created with another person in mind, and then decided on again in a group of friends like this. I’m sure most people wouldn’t believe me, but after busting my ass in school and dating the same boy throughout, it’s nice not to have to do anything. I surf, I work, I go home. I make all my decisions based on what’s good for me as a person, rather than one-half of a couple.
Still, there are times like tonight where I realize it can be lonely, actually, and it’s not just about sex but about companionship and having someone who looks at me like he’s waited all day for it. It’s about having someone there to distract me with movies or conversation or a warm body to help me fall asleep.
The register clangs as I push the cash drawer closed and hand a guy his change. I lift my head in the direction of Harlow’s laughter, and am surprised to see Luke and Mia now standing near the bathrooms, talking.
We all attended UCSD, so even though there are several schools within the university, it doesn’t surprise me that they might know each other. Still, it makes me laugh a little inside because I will constantly feel like there are so many details to be plugged into my working map of Lola’s friends.
I knew Harlow had famous parents, but only recently put it together that her mother was my mom’s favorite actress when I was little.
I knew Mia used to dance, but only recently learned that her trajectory was ruined when she was hit by a truck.
I knew Finn was close to his father and two brothers, but didn’t know until I put my foot in it and asked him what he was doing for Mother’s Day that his mom died when he was a kid.
My name is called from down the bar, and I blink back into focus. I run a tray of drinks out to a table and Harlow grabs me on my way back, pulling me into a fierce hug.
“Hey, stranger,” she says, her eyes moving over my face before she reaches for a strand of my hair. “Feels like ages since I’ve seen you. Think you could put some sunblock on and leave some cute for the rest of us? Jesus, you look like an ad for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, surfer girl. Fuck you and your adorable freckles.”
I give her a wide smile. “I should take you with me everywhere, Ego Boost.”
“Can you cut out and see a movie with us tonight?” she asks.
I shake my head and her lips turn down into a pout. “It’s just me, Fred, and one waitress here, and that new band is coming in later,” I explain.
“Maybe this weekend? All three Roberts boys are in town.”
I nod, perking up at the idea of a fun night out with a big group. “I’ll check my schedule.” Her husband, Finn, formerly a commercial fisherman, is now about to become television’s hottest reality star on The Fisher Men, a show featuring Finn, his father, and his two younger brothers out on the water.
Harlow’s eyebrows slowly rise and I realize my mistake. I may have only known Harlow for about nine months, but her meddling skills are legendary.
“Maybe we can get you and Levi—”
I’m already looking for an exit. “Nope. Nope,” I tell her, and glance up at the bar to see a few people waiting for service. “I need to get back, Miss Matchmaker, but I’ll text you tomorrow and let you know if I can make it.”
Harlow nods before turning toward her table. “All right, you stubborn shit!” she calls out as I head back.
When I get there, I see Fred pouring some beers, talking with some regulars. Just down the bar, sitting alone, is Luke.
He looks . . . well, he looks upset, with a serious expression I don’t imagine he wears often. Granted, I know next to nothing about this guy except that he has girls constantly watching him, looks like a total douchebag, yet sort of isn’t when you actually get him talking, and gets more texts in a single night than I do in a week. But what do I know.
I glance over to where Mia, Ansel, and Harlow are gathering their things and wave as they head toward Finn, standing near the exit.
“You okay there?” I say to Luke, pulling a shot glass from below the counter.
He nods, and as soon as he looks up at me, the serious face is gone, replaced again by the cute smile. On instinct, I look away, digging into the icebox with a small shovel.
“Just spacing out and thinking too much,” he says. “A bar seems like a good place to do that.”
I nod. And because he seems to be waiting for me to say something more, I do. “Best place to mull things over. Bad grades. Lost job. Money problems. First loves.”
His eyes catch mine again. “Speaking from experience?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, pouring him a shot of whiskey and sliding it across the counter. Even with the smile, he looks like he could use it. “Bartender experience. Maybe you just need a distraction.” I look over his shoulder to where his group of friends is sitting, along with the brunette whose eyes still track him everywhere. He follows my gaze and then turns back with a little shake of his head.
Luke lifts the shot, tilting his head back and swallowing it in one go. He sets the glass on the bar top and exhales, coughing a little. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“What about you?” he asks.
I move to the sink to set the glass inside. “What about me what?”