Page 65 of The Overdue Kiss

I eye the piece of plastic, the old feeling of inadequacy rearing its head.

“I can pay for mine.” I take a swig of my water, hoping to wash down the irritation in my tone.

“You know the rules. If I’m here, I got it.” Chris holds up the bill and his card with two fingers. The waitress moves from behind me to pick it up and take it to the bar.

“Thanks,” I say, forcing the words out.

A voice overhead echoes through the speakers of the tavern, and the sparkle in Maya’s eyes dies as her ex-boyfriend cheerfully banters with a caller. Second by second, she withdraws into herself as if to hide behind an invisible wall.

The urge to drive down to the radio station and punch Felipe in the face consumes my thoughts. I’ve never been a violent person.Never. In fact, I’d be the first one to stop a friend from doing something stupid. But the rage that flows through my veins at watching the pain wash over Maya’s features brings out a feral part of me I hadn’t known existed.

I slide my foot to touch the tip of hers, and her eyes flick to mine in surprise.

“You okay?” I mouth.

She glances up and shrugs. “It’s fine,” she mouths back.

That’s not good enough for me. I stand, ignoring the looks from the others at the table as I head to the bar and grab a stool next to a silver-haired man munching on a basket of beer nuts. His furry brows rise when he sees me.

“Oh, it’s the quiet one.”

“That’s me,” I say, not really in the mood to chat. I signal to the bartender, and she lets me know she’ll be there in a minute before she hits a button on the blender.

The old man swivels in his seat and continues to unabashedly stare at me. I’ve seen him around before, but he’s never spoken to me before today. He’s one of the regulars in the bar, usually hanging with his friends and watching the hockey games. Today he’s wearing a bowling league shirt with the name “Ivan” embroidered over his left front pocket.

“You know, I was a lot like you when I was your age,” he says wistfully.

I tap my fingers on the counter, my nerves grinding when I hear Felipe’s calm cadence as he introduces the next song. “Yeah?”

“Not the quiet part, mind you.” Ivan lifts his mug and takes a guzzle before dropping a truth bomb. “The lovesick part.”

Now he has my full attention. “I’m sorry.What?”

“Oh, did you not know?” He chuckles, a sound close to a wheeze.

“I’mnotin love,” I say, my teacher’s voice kicking in. What an absurd notion. I can’t fall for someone in a matter of weeks.

At least, I didn’t think I could.

Yes, I’ve been thinking about her nonstop, going out of my way to make sure I bump into her every day, and my heart rate picks up whenever I hear her voice... but that doesn’t mean I’m in love, right?

He lifts his weathered hands palms up. “Of course. I must be mistaken.”

The bartender slides up, still shaking another customer’s drink. “Whatcha having?”

“Actually, I was going to ask if you could change the radio station.”

She pours the clear beverage over a cup of ice and adds a tiny straw. “Radio station?”

I clear my throat. “Yes, the radio host is my friend’s ex-boyfriend. She won’t say anything, but I can tell she’s uncomfortable.” I pull a twenty out of my wallet and slide it across the table. “Any other station would be great.”

She snatches my money before I can blink. “You got it.”

Ivan chuckles next to me.

“I’m not in love,” I repeat, but softer this time, like even my body is betraying me.

“Live in denial all you want. Just a word of advice from a lonely old man—if I could tell my wife I love her one last time, I would. Don’t let this girl leave without telling her how you feel. Sometimes they don’t come back.”

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