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“Greg, go home. You don’t need to be here.”
I pull out my phone. “Why not?” I scroll through my numbers and hold up my phone, showing him her number before blocking her. “I guess I’m free to date now.”
“Can I call your mother to pick you up?”
I shoot him an irritated frown as I scroll more. “I’m fine. Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”
“No, you’re not fine.”
I text Kleo, asking her to stop by, and then roll my eyes at Vaughn. “I’ll be fine after work, for sure.” I then find a hotel nearby and reserve a room for tonight and tomorrow. Regardless of how the rest of the night goes with Kleo, I can’t go home to my mother tonight. It’s a good thing that I have a bag full of clothes and other shit I’ll need.
Amos asks, “What are you doing?”
“Hotel. I mean, I don’t know if Kleo has a roommate. Now we can be alone.”
Crossing his arms, Amos pleads, “Don’t, Greg. You can’t do this tonight.”
“I’m positive I’ll get it up, if that’s what you’re worried about, perv.”
“It most certainly is not.”
I shove my phone back into my ass pocket and Amos quietly says, “You love each other. This can’t be over. Don’t let it be.”
“I tried! Why in the hell do I want to be with someone who doesn’t want me?” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “She never really wanted me! Shit, I’m such a stooge.”
“You’re not.”
“Fuck this.”
I return to the bar as Amos yells after me. She’s moved on, and so will I. Heading to the jukebox, I play Mr. Brightside by The Killers and then Nine Inch Nails’ The Hand That Feeds. Feel-good songs.
When I go behind the bar, Harold scoffs, “Jesus, Rodwell. You can’t stay in one place. I’m doing all the work out here while you’re back there jerking it.”
I squeeze my hand to maintain my buoyancy. “Just making the rounds.”
“Hi there,” a voice says from the end of the bar. I look to see Kleo smiling. My stomach aches, but I hand Damian another bottle of Bud and walk over to her with a numb smile.
“That was fast.”
“I was only down the road at my brother’s apartment.” I notice her floral shirt and minimal makeup. She’s not bad-looking at all, but she doesn’t do anything for me. She’s the type I’d fix up for a friend if I had any.
“Oh. Do you want a drink? I mean, you’re here.”
She laughs. “Um, sure. Surprise me.”
I go to the cooler and remove a Bud and hand it to her.” Zero points for creativity tonight.
“Thanks.” Kleo smiles, and it’s pretty, but it hurts to notice that.
“I’m confused why you want me here. You said you’re taken, but in the text you only said she’s gone. Is that true?”
I wave my hand. “Yep. She left. Turns out I wasn’t that into her.”
Kleo’s smile is uncertain before she sips her beer. As I check for refills, Harold hooks my arm and pulls me away. “What the hell is going on with you? I just heard you with that broad.”
I shrug him off as I roll my eyes and walk away. On the way back to Kleo, I grab a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. I pour them and shove one to her. I hold up my shot glass and say, “To new beginnings.” Before she can even grab her glass, I down mine.
She asks, “No salt and lime?”
“Those are for pussies,” I choke out, making her laugh.
“I really can’t drink tequila. It’s gross to me.”
I shrug. “Okay.” I down hers and slam the glass on the counter. “What do ya want, then?”
“I like rum.”
I make a face. “Gross.”
Candi stops at the bar to give us her order, and as I lean closer to hear her, she grabs my T-shirt. “What the fuck are you doing with her?”
“Picking out our China pattern. Christ Almighty, Candi.” I pull her fingers off my shirt to fill Candi’s order, and I return to the counter behind me to grab a bottle and another glass.
I set it down in front of Kleo as I pour and say, “Thanks for coming here.”
Kleo kind of studies me. “It looks like you need a friend.”
I laugh. “Who doesn’t?”
I pour more tequila into the shot glasses and down those since I’m on a roll. I refill another glass for Zeke, a construction worker who once set fire to his ex-wife’s car. I can’t say I blame him.
Kleo says, “You’ll be too drunk to do your job or to drive home.”
“I’ll get an Uber. I have a hotel room tonight.”
“Oh? I can always give you a ride. I’m not really drinking much.”
“You’d want to hang around until two in the morning?”
“I can always come back. I don’t work tomorrow.”
“What do you do, anyway?”
“I’m a nurse.”
“Jesus. You’re smart, then.”
She laughs. “I try to be.”
I laugh as I glance toward the other end of the room, where I see a familiar cocky grin and a roving eye. He stops Candi, who looks disgusted.
My fake grin falls, and my real simmering fury boils. Candi returns to the bar as I pretend not to care he’s here. But inside, I’m a hurricane spawning tornadoes.
Candi stands at the counter, watching him while I go to the storage cabinet in the corner.
Kleo asks, “What’s with the baseball bat?”