Page 67 of Teach Me How

Feigning enthusiasm for her upcoming interview has taken everything I’ve got. But I would still rather spend time with her like this than not at all. I manufactured an excuse to be with her. Told her I needed to go to Denver for my job. It was a voluntary work trip, but she didn’t need to know that.

The flight into Denver was blessedly uneventful, and we found a hotel not far from where she’ll interview. It was a quiet, relaxed night. But when the sun came up, we both went our separate ways. I’ve had an uneasy feeling in my stomach all day.

When corporate got wind of my trip, they flew Terry out to Denver as well. They ran us through a gauntlet of tours and meetings, which was just as well. I needed something to keep me busy. Something to keep my mind off the feeling of impending doom.

As happy hour approaches, I decline offers from work peers for drinks or dinner and turn my boots back to Pearl Street.

I walk down a boulevard lined with boutiques and restaurants.

I step into a bar and am immediately accosted by pink.

And teal.

But lots of pink. Florescent pink and teal lights line the shelves. Rattan lamps hang low over every table, along with viny plants. He mentioned that it was a tiki bar, but I didn’t expect Coloradans to take the theme quite so far. Rock-A-Hula Baby plays overhead.

I spot Mitch sitting in a rattan lawn chair next to a settee. He’s drinking something straight out of a pineapple juice can that has more fruit poking out of it than a fruit salad.

I sit down on the settee and continue scanning the quirky interior.

“Blue Hawaii.” Mitch says, circling a finger midair to indicate the music. “They’re playing the whole score.”

Mitch and I grew up with Blue Hawaii on the TV, Elvis singing in the background. Our grandma on our mom’s side was an unabashed Elvis fan. I settle in. “Try the painkiller. It’ll ease the discomfort from that stick you have up your ass.”

I order an old fashion instead. “Do you know, I passed at least half a dozen breweries on my way here. But you picked the one and only tiki bar in the entire city.” I hook my ankle over my knee. “It’s like a flamingo barfed in a wicker basket in here.”

“I didn’t pick this bar for you, asshole.” Mitch says, but there’s no heat to his words. “I picked it for Reese. And besides, it’s super close to city hall.”

I take a second look around and he’s right, she’s going to love it.

He pops a piece of pineapple into his mouth. “You know… Reese? Our sweet, darling, innocent friend from back home?”

A beat passes between us. His face is devoid of all expression, which says more than enough.

I sigh. “Cody told you.”

Mitch gives me a wan smile. “I wasn’t nearly as scandalized as he was.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, for one thing, I know what a man whore you are.”

“Okay.” I swipe a hand through the air, cutting him off. The bartender returns with my drink not a moment too soon.

He settles back into his chair, squinting at me. “I honestly never even considered dating Reese in high school. Want to know why?”

“No, but I assume you’re about to fill me in.”

He chuckles quietly. “She reminds me too much of mom.”

I mull that over. Our mom is short and sweet. Cheerful and always putting everyone else first. “You may have a point.”

“She’s the kind of girl you marry. She’s not the kind of girl you just screw around with,Skyler.” He drawls my name, one eyebrow raised.

“She’d probably take offense to that sentiment,Mitch.”

He tilts his head, scanning my face like there’s hidden code written across it. His mouth drops open. “You’re serious about her.”

“You’re reading into things.”

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