Page 5 of 28 Dates

“Ugh. Life.”

She smiles sweetly. “I hear that. Work sucks, but luckily Jonas is taking me to the coast for the weekend so I can’t complain.”

She’s a pediatric nurse and works early morning shifts at the children’s hospital. From stories she’s told before, she works mostly with cancer patients. I can’t fathom what it’s like to lose a child to such a horrific disease and still be able to smile at the end of her shift. She’s just that good a person.

“Oh. That’ll be nice.” I turn to Tucker, one of the best new bartenders Trey has hired. The man is already shaking my drink up and sliding the empty martini glass in front of me. It’s like he knows the bile is rising in my throat at the thought of Jonas and Ashley going away for the weekend.

Tucker pours my drink, and I instantly grab it, taking a healthy swallow. “Bad day?”

“Stressful one.”

“Anything suit your fancy to eat?” His blond hair brushes his shoulders. He’s young but cute. With his cocky swagger, and bartending to pay his Portland University tuition and his rocking hard bod, I doubt he spends many nights alone.

“Bruschetta to start with, please,” I reply. I don’t need the menu. It hasn’t changed in two years but has somehow gotten better.

I give credit to Jonas for changing their suppliers to using more locally grown, organic ingredients for the boost in flavor.

“Gotcha. Anything good goin’ on for you?”

“Nah,” I tell him as another customer grabs his attention. “Same ol’ same ol’.”

He slaps the bar, grinning as he walks away. “I hear that.”

But for some reason, for the first time, “same ol’ same ol’ ” sounds rather pathetic and boring.

Chapter 2

Jonas

I’m neck deep in inventory orders when my phone buzzes with a text from Tucker. The guy does an awesome job manning the bar when I can’t be out front, and I often find myself hoping that when he graduates, he’ll take a full-time bartending job. Unlikely since his major is marine biology and he spends half of every year surveying and studying the whales off the coast and their migratory patterns.

Someday he’ll be that guy, living on a boat for much of his life, wearing rain slickers and clodhopper boots, living his dream.

Which sucks for me because he’ll be hard to replace.

Assuming his text is something work related, I tuck away my spreadsheet and glance at my phone.

Your girl is here waiting for you.

Ashley. My girlfriend. The word doesn’t fit. Doesn’t make my heart bounce like it did even up to a few weeks ago, and I can’t put my finger on why that is. She’s sweet. She’s funny. She’s the most caring person I know. She’s loyal and honest, and she looks at me with large brown eyes full of excitement and hope every time I walk into a room.

I slam my hand to my forehead and groan. “Crap.” I’ve just thought of Ashley in similar terms to the golden retriever I had growing up. I type out a quick thanks to Tucker for letting me know. This order has to be submitted before heading out to see her.

Months ago, I’d met Ashley on a rare night out. She’d been with friends celebrating a bachelorette party at a club downtown, and I’d met her at the bar while she’d ordered a round of blow job shots. I mean, what guy could resist that opening? Especially when she’d blushed twelve shades of pink while placing the order. She delivered the round of shots to her friends, came back to the bar where I was standing with a buddy of mine, requested a water, and we’d spent the rest of the night talking.

I’d liked it. I’d liked being around a woman who wasn’t afraid to show affection or her enjoyment of being with me. Two days later we went for coffee. Then a dinner.

Then I’d felt like a complete asshole when I’d fallen into bed with Caitlin. A woman who was the exact opposite of Ashley in every way. Granted, I’d ended it the next day, but what still sucks is that I hadn’t wanted to. If Caitlin had given me any hint there was a possibility we could move our relationship forward, I would have taken it.

Unfortunately, that pain in my gut when Caitlin walks into Dirty’s where I have to fake I’m totally okay with this new friends-only thing we have going on is starting to become impossible to ignore.

I like Ashley. I have a weekend away planned for us in hopes I can ignite that spark that’s missing in our relationship, the passionate clinging-to-each-other-and-unable-to-keep-our-hands-off-each-other vibe that isn’t quite there for reasons I can’t put my finger on.

Probably because you still want the sexy little fiery redhead who wants nothing but your dick.

Shit. Okay. Yeah. I’m still not over Caitlin. But I also want more. Using Ashley though to search for that more when it’s not there and continuing to string her along probably makes me a dick.

“Damn.” I stare at my phone, wishing I hadn’t seen the text. Ashley is probably stopping in on her way home from work at the hospital. She usually does this when she’s had a bad day.

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