Inside, we found a table by the door. I figured it was a good spot because it was on the edge of the crowd and gave me a view out the front window so I’d see if any familiar cars happened by.
We sat down and ordered some beers (yep, she drank beer), and as we waited, I started looking around curiously. I’d never been in a gay bar before. I always thought these places would have more… flare.
But really, it was just like every other bar I’d been to before.
When the waiter came back with our drinks, he gave me the once-over, and I shifted uncomfortably. “All kinds of new faces in here tonight,” he mused. “And all of them a pleasure to look at.”
When he moved away, Joey laughed. I gave her an un-amused look. Then I got to thinking about what the waiter had said. There were other new faces in here?
I scanned the crowd and faces, looking for something, as an odd feeling prickled the back of my neck.
And then I saw him.
I’d know him even if I were blind.
It was like a kick right in the nads. My hand gripped the longneck of the beer and squeezed until it hurt.
What in God’s name was he doing here?
In a gay bar? Flirting. With. A. Man.
A floodgate of emotion burst open inside me, and I felt like I was sinking, drowning…
Joey snapped her fingers in front of my face, and I blinked.
I didn’t look at her, though. I looked back at Trent.
My best friend.
Who was sitting in a gay bar, looking like he was on a date.
Trent
I could feel his presence.
I was sitting in a gay bar, losing my shit.
Like going bat shit crazy.
Was this hopeless, then? Was I so far gone on Drew it didn’t matter who I tried to see if I was interested in?
Did not only all women, but all men not stand a chance against the blond-haired, blue-eyed French fry snatcher?
Fuuuck.
I’d tried. I really fucking did. Hell, even as I sat here mentally kicking myself, I was trying. Maybe this was just the wrong place. Maybe this guy was the wrong one.
And the one on the other side of me, who’d been giving me interested looks for a while.
Even the bartender slipped me his number when he brought me a second draft (which I hadn’t even touched yet).
Not even alcohol could help me right now.
Maybe I wasn’t gay after all. Maybe I should just leave here right now, find a woman, and bury myself inside her.
My body rebelled at the thought.
It didn’t matter. I knew it, and the realization slayed me. It didn’t matter who I tried to hook up with.
The only one I wanted was Drew.
As if my raging thoughts conjured up the perfect imitation of his voice, I heard him clear as a bell in my mind. “What the fuck is going on here?”
And damn, he was mad.
Max was a blur in the edge of my vision as he turned around to see where the voice was coming from.
Wait. He heard Drew’s voice, too?
I glanced around and nearly slid right off my barstool.
He was here. He was glowering. He was totally pissed.
“Drew?” I said, turning all the way around on the stool.
“You know him?” Max asked.
If looks could kill, poor Max would be buried in his flannel.
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to laugh. “He’s a friend of mine.”
Drew crossed his arms over his chest. I could smell him from here. A combination of exhaust and leather. I even caught a hint of the interior of the Fastback.
It smelled like home.
I had a sudden urge to fling myself at him. To ask him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything was going to be okay.
“Soo,” Max said, looking between the two of us. “You aren’t together?”
I felt my face pale and avoided looking at Drew’s reaction. “No,” I replied quickly.
“You trying to pick him up?” Drew challenged Max.
I jerked upright and stared at him. His eyes were full of hostility and his arms were at his sides.
“Well, he did come here alone,” Max replied, his voice dropping a few degrees.
What the hell was happening right now?
“He’s not alone anymore,” Drew growled. He literally growled.
A few others nearby turned to stare. I actually started blushing.
The bartender’s voice spoke behind me. “Already got ‘em fighting over you, do you?”
I rolled my eyes. This guy was not good at picking up people.
“Well, if all that testosterone is too much for you, you have my number,” he whispered loudly, and I heard him walk off.
“He gave you his number!” Drew roared.
Max pushed off his stool and faced Drew. He was about the same height, maybe a little thicker, but it wasn’t muscle. “I think you better leave. We were all just fine until you got here.”
Drew laughed. It wasn’t a humorous sound. In fact, it kinda made me nervous.