“She was wearing an engagement ring.”
“So what?You’renot marrying her,” he says then laughs when I give him the ‘So not cool, bro’ face.
“Okay but you’ve barely looked at anyone all night. Even the ones without rings,” he says.
“I’m just not feeling it.”
“He’s in love, remember?” Shep asks D-Low with a hint of a smirk on his face.
D-Low has a nice laugh at my expense and Shep joins in.
I roll my eyes. “Laugh all you want, but you haven’t seen her. Hannah is stunning. She’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen.” Except it isn’t even that she’s hot (though she definitely is). “The way she looks is fascinating.”
“The way she looks is fascinating?” D-Low repeats the words back to me slowly and in the form of a question, brows raised in disbelief.
“She has this long, blond hair that is a thousand different shades. Light and dark strands that blend together to create this color that’s so unique.”
I think D-Low mutters, “Oh boy. He’s really down bad,” but I keep going to prove my point.
“And she has these warm brown eyes with little flecks of blue that pop when she’s fired up. And her mouth…” I groan. That mouth has starred in many of my fantasies.
“We get it.” Shep holds a hand up to stop me.
“No, please, keep going,” D-Low adds, eyes lit up with amusement.
I let out a breath that raises and lowers my shoulders. He doesn’t get it, but he hasn’t seen her. “I can’t just pick up some other random girl when I know she exists. It’s like…using dull skates when I know what it’s like to glide across the ice in freshly sharpened ones.”
D-Low’s brows lift again. “I’m pretty sure you just offended an entire population of women.”
“You get my point.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. She’s hot and you’re in love.” He shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “Well, since none of the women in here meet your standards, should we head upstairs?”
“I’m game for whatever,” Shep says.
“Yeah, same.”
“All right. I’m ready for a change of scenery.” D-Low is the most excited about tonight of the three of us. I’m hoping for some of that to transfer my way as we step out of the bar and make our way toward the elevator. As the door opens, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out with a strange sense of dread. It could be a lot of people—any number of my friends texting to wish me a happy birthday or even a spam call, but something tells me it’s my dad, even before I see his name on the screen. Which is odd considering I haven’t heard from him in three years. Maybe that’s why I’ve felt off all night long.
D-Low and Shep step into the elevator, but when they notice I haven’t moved, Shep throws out an arm to keep the door from closing.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I need to take this. Meet you guys upstairs?”
“We can wait,” D-Low says.
“No. Go ahead. I won’t be long.”
They still hesitate until I add, “Seriously. Go and snag us a good table and I’ll be there by the time you pop the first bottle.”
“All right, but you better hurry,” D-Low says. Shep removes his hand and the door closes. I wait until the hum of the elevator signals movement and then glance down at my phone.
I continue to stare as the call ends. My heart hammers like a weight in my chest. I don’t know how to feel about him calling and can’t even begin to guess what he wants. Does he even know it’s my birthday? Some sick, twisted part of me still wants to talk to him, but I don’t call him back for fear that knowing the reason will be worse than the absence.
Continuing to stare at the screen, I keep walking through the hotel in a daze. I can’t decide if I want to get good and drunk to forget about dear ole dad or go back up to the room and fake a stomach bug. I feel sick so it isn’t much of a stretch.
I’m still deciding when laughter echoes against the marble floor. I find myself smiling reflexively as I glance up to find the source. I never want to be the guy bringing other people down, not even strangers.
