reply, she keeps talking my ear off, bumping my elbow every time she says something like I’m supposed to know what the fuck she’s talking about.
My attention remains on Journey. I can tell by the smile she gives me any time she passes by us, she thinks this shit is funny.
“What haunts those eyes of yours?” the blonde asks. My silence is frustrating her apparently, and she adds, “You’re not going to answer me? Well, you don’t have to be a dick ’bout it.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her tactic. “Cute.” I snort. “If a man was bothering a woman in a bar and not taking no for an answer, he’d be labeled a creep and probably thrown out,” I snap, irritation laced in my words. “But because you’re a woman, I’m a dick for ignoring you?”
“Your asshole reply is what’s making you a dick,” she says, reaching for the keys she had on the bar. “I was just making conversation.”
Rolling my eyes, I stare at the wall of liquor. “Okay.” I swallow a long drink from the whiskey in my hand, shifting my stare to Journey, who’s watching the interaction closely. “Say hi to your husband for me.”
Glaring at me, she rips her keys away and leaves. Women don’t usually like to be denied. At least, that’s my experience.
My eyes find Journey. She’s helping a couple at the end of the bar. Her cheeks flush pink when she finds me staring at her. With a giggle, Journey leans into the bar when she returns to me, her eyes on the blonde leaving. “That was fun.”
I give her an offended glare. “I bet it was.”
“J, I need ya for a minute,” someone from the back yells.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells me and then disappears around the corner.
I stare at my phone next to me, counting down the time until 3:00 a.m. I remember when Atlas was born, and those first few days when I was literally all he had, I feared the early morning hours. I feared taking care of him. Alone. Something I’d thought I’d be doing with Athena.
I’m not alone for long before two other bartenders approach me. I look up at them, unsure what they want. The one with black hair sits next to me. “Hey.”
I blink at her. “Hey?”
“Ooh, a man with a rough voice.” She winks, biting her lip. “You busy later?”
The one still behind the bar still laughs, her hands splayed out on the counter. “Is it really that easy? Do you literally just ask them what they’re doing later?”
My curiosity passes between the two of them. Are they setting me up for something? I feel like I’m in the middle of a bet. I don’t say anything, unsure what’s happening, and then another joins them. I read their name tags. Presley and Malarie are behind the bar, and the one next to me, Dylan.
Heat courses through me, my nerves manifesting with me fidgeting with my cigarettes in my pocket. Why had they outlawed smoking in bars? Didn’t they know the two came hand in hand?
Malarie leans in. “How long are you in town?”
I shrug, shifting my weight on the stool. “Not long.”
“Then what are you doing with Journey?”
My heart thuds in my chest, louder, uncontrolled. Using her. I don’t say that. I offer another shrug, hoping that will pacify them. It doesn’t. They ask question after question, trying to interrogate me into spilling the reason why I keep coming back. I don’t offer them much because even I don’t understand this. If I did, I’d rearrange the thoughts and forget this girl.
“What are you guys doing to him?” Journey asks, passing by with a tray of food in her hands. Her scent, fruity and delicious, envelopes me and my thoughts. I stare at her, unwillingly.
Dylan places her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t fuck this up.”
I don’t say anything, because I know I will. It’s inevitable, this destruction. The girls seem to evaporate when Journey returns. They gather at the end of the bar, their attention still on me.
“Sorry about them,” she says, rolling her eyes. “They never mind their own business.”
“I’m never coming to see you here again,” I tease, trying to force humor into my voice. I push my glass toward her and check the time. Thirty minutes until closing. I look behind me. The bar is seemingly empty, aside from a group of men near the door.
“What were you doing outside?”
Turning back around, I raise an eyebrow when I find