of college jocks and their girlfriends, listen to a guy complain about his wife’s mother and how he ended up in the doghouse, and blend up a jug of Panty Droppers for a group of netballers before I have a chance to glance at my phone again.
Violet Queen: Would you rather listen to this app wolf whistle at you like a drunken frat boy, or dance naked in public?
This girl is witty. Intensely smart. And what I need to keep my mind preoccupied for a while. And off Lily. Well, mostly off Lily.
Plus, I have to talk to her. It’s market research. And apparently the female market for this app isn’t a fan of what sounds like a misogynistic whistle. My bad.
Cap’N Crunch: Is the whistle that bad? I hadn’t noticed.
Violet Queen: I’d take a full star off my review based on that aspect alone.
“Well, shit.” I’ll have to look into changing it. Perhaps something like a bubble popping would be more appropriate. Like a cartoon version of a heart when it’s broken by the realization that dating usually ends in disaster.
Nope. That negativity is the reason I created this app, but it’s not the point of it. The whole set up is to get to know someone well enough to risk an emotional attachment without worrying about it coming back to bite you in the ass.
Or at least negating the risk as much as possible for most people. Considering Hud is the biggest risk to me, and my problems are all on the other side of the country, it doesn’t help me in the slightest. I tap out a response.
Cap’N Crunch: I’ll dance naked in public.
Violet Queen: Can you dance?
Cap’N Crunch: I have some moves. You’d probably enjoy them.
Violet Queen: Is that so?
Cap’N Crunch: It’s all in the hips.
Violet Queen: Rude!
Cap’N Crunch: What about you? Are you stripping off and doing the chicken dance?
Violet Queen: I could, but frat boys would still whistle at me.
I chuckle. I love her sense of humor, and hate it too. Because she reminds me of Lily. And that would be cool, if I wasn’t completely obsessed with the fact that Lily still isn’t talking to me.
It’s been two weeks since she left without saying goodbye. I don’t blame her for giving me a wide berth. What I said to her… it was mean. Uncalled for, but I needed her to understand that nothing can happen between us. When what I really wanted to say was, “Fuck yes, I’m into you.” And that the only thing I regretted was not kissing her back when I had the chance. Now the only thing I regret is being another person in her life who she thinks doesn’t want her around.
Hud did ask me to go to the airport with them, but I figured she was embarrassed and wanted to keep her distance on purpose. So I made up an excuse about having to work out kinks on the app and decided to give her some space. But how much time am I supposed to give her?
“Hey man, can I get a beer?”
Someone waves their hand in my face, and I drag my attention from my phone and from Lily back to my surroundings. People are used to me losing time when I’m hyper focused. But it doesn’t usually happen at work. And it doesn’t happen because of my best friend’s little sister. She’s blurred the lines I so carefully constructed and no amount of mental sharpie can solidify them again.
“Sorry.” I grab a glass and pour a perfect pint before putting it in front of the guy.
He hands over cash and moves on and I throw myself into serving. I make gin and tonics for a cougar and her much younger date. Good for her. Pour more beers for a couple of guys who are built like wrestlers. Serve a bunch of cocktails to our fan club. Girls in Line ‘Em Up T-shirts and short skirts.
Pez smirks at me. He’s only been with us a few weeks, and all the attention is making him cocky. He’s like a damn Pez dispenser, allotting advice and flirtations in equal measure, which is why Hud dubbed him Pez within days of him starting at Line ‘Em Up. Arrow shakes his head at Pez. The popularity does get old sometimes. All these girls.
Who aren’t Lily.
Any one of them would have responded to my text messages by now. But not her. She can hold a grudge. As much as I want