Page 64 of Santa's Girl

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Horny. Frustrated. A little pissed. Mostly at myself.

I stared at the mirror behind the bar, watching the way the lights caught the edges of my reflection — the clean beard, the new fleece, the effort I’d made.

All of it for her.

And I’d ended the night with her against a damn wall like I was just trying to get off.

The stool beside me shifted.

I didn’t look. I could smell perfume and cheap beer and too much body spray.

Someone said, “Hey, stranger.”

I didn’t answer.

Because she wasn’ther.

And no one else would be.

The whiskey burned going down. Not in a good way. Just enough to make my chest ache.

I didn’t want another, but I waved for one anyway.

Second drink sat untouched.

I wasn’t in the mood to get drunk. Wasn’t in the mood for company. Or the thumping bass. Or the girl three stools down eyeing me like I was the next bad decision she wanted to make.

What Iwantedwas Becca.

And I’d messed that up.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I let it sit there a second before I pulled it out.

JINX

So? How’d the date go?

I stared at the screen. Then typed back few words.

ME

I’m at Zack’s.

Didn’t take more than five seconds before the typing bubble popped up.

JINX

Alone at the bar?

I didn’t answer.

Another bubble.

JINX

Be there in 30. Don’t drive.

I didn’t argue. Didn’t say I was fine. Because I wasn’t.

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