Page 110 of Vince
Sydney
I feelVince long before I see him. The bar’s crowded, but I swear I know the moment he’s stepped inside. My spine crackles with energy as a sense of warmth sends tingles from my head to my toes.
The moment my eyes meet his, I feel them reach the depths of my soul. His eyes are dark in this lighting, but I can tell from just a single glance, he’s spotted me as well.
I’m frozen in place as he closes the distance between us. He’s as gorgeous as ever, but as he gets closer, I see he hasn’t shaved for the past week, so there’s the start of a beard growing. Dark shadows are a predominately new feature under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept since Sunday either. His hair looks disheveled more than usual, like he’s been pulling on the ends. It practically stands up on its own.
My heart aches at the sight of him.
“Uh… Miss? Are you gonna finish making our drinks?” my current customer asks as she waves a hand in front of my face, breaking my concentration from Vince.
Coming out of my revelry, I stammer, “I…uh… yeah… sorry.”
I focus my attention on making the amaretto sour and rum and Coke for the couple in front of me. Then I collect their money after handing them their drinks.
By the time I finish, Vince is behind them, waiting patiently in line.
We’ve been relatively slow for a Friday night, but the line remains steady.
When he has my full attention, I hear his husky voice over the live band playing on the stage. “Hey, Syd.”
Not knowing what to say, I keep things casual by asking, “What can I get for you?”
Then I get a little irritated. He’s had all week to come to me. He chooses the bar as his first point of contact?
Apprehension clouds his face, but he says, “Can we talk?”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for the better part of a week,” I say harsher than I intend, but my point is made.
Pushing his hands into his pockets, he rocks back on his heels. “I deserve that…”
He stares at his shoes for a moment before drawing his eyes up to meet mine. Damn, he’s gorgeous. But he needs to know he’s not getting let off the hook that easily. “You’ve ghosted me for nearly a week, Vin. Then you show up at my place of work and expect to talk?”
“I can explain…” he starts, but I cut him off when another customer stands behind him.
“Look. I’m busy. I’ll give you a call when I feel like getting around to it,” I respond snarkier than I should. But dammit, I’m hurt. I’ve shed tears for this man, and he doesn’t get to just waltz in here withhey,can we talkand get away from it.
Shaking his head, he looks completely defeated when he says, “I guess I deserve that, too. I’ll… uh… just be on my way then.”
Oh. My. Heart.
I swear the sound of it breaking can be heard over the music that fills the room.
Before I can say another word, he turns on his heels and briskly walks away.
And like the fool I am… I just watch him go.
God, I’m such a bitch…
For the rest of the night, I go through the motions, but my heart just isn’t in it. No, it left with the man whose heart is broken nearly as much as mine. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever get over his hopeless expression of despair. This is so much worse than not hearing from him for the past week. I’m fairly certain Vince was here to explain his actions.
Fuck… Fuck… Fuck… why am I so stubborn?
Knowing I can’t very well try getting out of closing after last night’s fiasco, I set my mind to the task at hand to finish out the night as quickly as possible. But of course, time moves like molasses in January.
By the time I leave the bar, it’s nearly three o’clock. Everything in my being tells me I should just go straight to his house. If it weren’t for the fact that I’d be waking Julia, I’d consider it. I’m that desperate.
When I get inside my apartment, I know there’s only one way I’ll be able to fall asleep. Reaching into the cabinet we keep the hard alcohol in, I pour three fingers of Maker’s Mark and down it quicker than I should. I bought it for a special occasion, but desperate times call for desperate measures. My throat warms as it slides down, and the hints of butterscotch and spice are left behind.
