Page 42 of Heartbeat

Back when I used to routinely go to The Den, I mostly avoided it on Saturdays. It was the busiest night of the week, the one that tended to gather pretty much everyone, from high schoolers to college undergrads alike.

As we waited for the line outside the club to move, I texted Noah to let him know I’d gone out. The last time he’d come home and had trouble finding me hadn’t ended well. After almost an hour, we got inside and went straight to the bar, where we were lucky enough to find two empty stools, just at the very end of it.

“Let me guess, double vodka?” the bartender said as we sat, looking over my shoulder to see if Lenny would agree from afar.

Ulysses S. Grant made him, though.

“Hi. Two, please.” I handed her Liam’s ID, hoping Emma wouldn’t notice.

“On the rocks, with a twist?”

“And, for you?” she asked at my nod, turning to an intrigued-looking Emma.

I smiled. “It’s one for me and one for her tonight.”

“Oh. Good for you!” the bartender said, winking and turning to get our drinks.

Emma looked at her and then back at me a couple of times. “See? The hot brother. Speaking of which—” She reached out and gently touched my neck. “Wanna talk about this?”

“Nothing to talk about,” I said, trying to look serious as the bartender came back with our drinks.

“Oh, Tommy.” Emma shook her head. “A hickey that size does not wish to be kept secret. When did it happen?” She removed the lemon from her drink before bringing it to her lips.

“Last night,” I said. “P-possibly this morning too.”

She raised a single eyebrow.

“What?” I asked, smiling awkwardly.

“And the name?” She was enjoying the fuck out of this. “The culprit has to have a name.”

“They do, huh?” I asked, and at her nod, continued, “Ethan,” and got her to instantly drop her jaw.

“Is he hot?” she asked, excitedly. “Well, of course, he’s hot. Is he nice?”

“Uh-huh. He’s a swimmer; he goes to my new school.”

“So, I guess we have the same type?”

I laughed. “Nah.” I took a sip from my drink. “It’s more of a weird slash-universe-having-a-laugh kind of coincidence.”

“Tell me about him. Is it serious?”

“Not serious.” I made it a point to emphasize it. “We’ve just met. Really, I just met him and—”

“Tommy, I know you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we can either sit here, pretending you’re the kind of person who does the whole casual thing without any sort of effort, or we can keep getting drunk enough for you to tell me why and how this Ethan guy was able to break The Hart Wall.”

“The Hart Wall?” I repeated, laughing.

“I’ve haven’t had vodka in ages,” she said. “Nor did I have lunch, so, yes, The Hart Wall.”

“Well.” I put my glass down and signaled the bartender for another one. “Setting aside the fact that there is no such wall, I would happily demonstrate how I am now the kind of guy who could very well do the ‘casual thing’ without it being a bad thing, but—”

“Yes?”

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