“Yeah man, I’m sure. See you tomorrow.”
* * *
O’Riley’s was packed on Friday night, which was a surprise considering the tourist season was over. It seemed like everyone from high school was at the local watering hole.
I did my best to ignore the hush that seemed to fall over the crowd of people playing pool as I made my way inside. I nodded at them in recognition, my eyes quickly moving past as I scanned faces to find Ezra and Peter. They were sitting at booth, a large plate of wings and a pitcher of beer in front of them.
My mouth watered at the sight of the beer, and I hesitated for a moment. I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. While it had been just under three years since my last drink, the thirst was still hard to tolerate.
“Hey,” I said, nodding at Peter as I slid into the seat beside Ezra. Peter’s strong jaw clenched, and tension radiated off of him. His eyes light eyes seemed darker with contempt. He did not look happy to see me. I had a feeling that Ezra hadn’t mentioned I would be joining them.
“Hey Braden, glad you could make it!” Ezra grinned. Peter said nothing. He just scowled at me.
“Look Peter… I owe you an apology.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” he griped. I ignored him—he was right. This apologize was several years overdue.
“I don’t remember what I said, but I know it was bullshit.” I continued on. The lie was hard to swallow. While I didn’t remember my exact words, I knew that the artillery behind them came from Peter’s most guarded secret. “I’m a piece of shit and I know it.”
Peter let out a reluctant smile. “Yeah, you’re a narcissistic piece of shit. You should have known we would have had your back, you didn’t have to drop us like that.”
“I know,” I said, hoping my words conveyed the depth of my remorse. I’d had an awful lot of time to think about my mistakes, and how I treated Peter was one of my bigger ones. Not only had I been a shitty boyfriend to Elle, but I’d been a shitty friend to someone who had only tried to help me. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. Then when I stopped drinking, every shitty fucking thing that I did while drunk came at me. The guilt was overwhelming. I just… I needed to get away for a bit.”
Peter watched me warily, trying to decipher the honesty of my words. After a moment, he sighed and ran his hand through his short light brown hair as he regarded me. “I get it. I’m still mad, but I’ll get over it. For what it’s worth…I’m glad you’re home, and I’m glad you got the help you needed.”
“Thanks,” I responded, my shoulders dropping as the tension left them.
With the apologizes out of the way, we started talking about the last four years and what we’d gotten up to. Ezra told me he landed a union job as a welder. Peter worked on a road construction crew for the city.
“What are your plans? Are you sticking around?” Peter asked me. He was still a little guarded with me, but he’d softened a little.
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “I’m working at the garage again for now. Chuck seems to really need my help.”
“Are you sure it’s not Melissa that needs your help?” Ezra prodded with a shit-eating grin on his face. “That chick’s always had it bad for you. She’s the one who told me you were back in town; she couldn’t stop talking about how hot you were now.”
“Oh she needs help, but she’s not getting it from me.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Melissa Groove was a couple of years older than me and had worked as Chuck’s receptionist since she’d graduated high school. She was also his niece. I’d been back at the shop for less than a week, and she was already trying to sink her claws into me, chatting me up every chance she got.
Don’t get me wrong, the attention was flattering, but Melissa just didn’t get me going. She reminded me of Molly Ringwald, straight down to her curly strawberry blonde bob and the slight upturn of her nose. She was snobby, too, almost like Molly Ringwald’s character in The Breakfast Club. Sure, she had a great rack and she was pretty in that girl next door way. She made it perfectly clear that she was willing, but I wouldn’t touch her.
I wouldn’t touch anyone who had a connection to Elle, no matter how small. Elle had always been uncomfortable with the attention Melissa gave me, and even though we weren’t together anymore, I held out the hope that one day she’d forgive me and grant a second chance. I didn’t want anything else weighing against me.
“Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on her?” Ezra said quietly, his eyes disbelieving.
Saying nothing, I looked away from Ezra’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Have you even been with anybody since her?” Peter asked, equally shocked.
“Don’t be fucking stupid, of course I have,” I shot back aggravated.
At the beginning, I had been able to block it off and think with my other head, but I had conditions. I didn’t do repeats, and I made damn sure the girls knew what to expect from me. I wasn’t interested in learning names, it didn’t matter anyway, because as soon as I closed my eyes I would imagine Elle. It was the only way I could get off, and maybe that was fucked up, but I’d always been a little messed.
My irritation faded when I saw the sympathetic looks on my friend’s faces. “I haven’t been with anybody like that though. Just one-night stands here and there.” I added, not meeting their eyes.
Shame and regret churned around in my stomach like some kind of dire tango as I remembered how I felt afterwards. Unfulfilled, empty. The space in my chest where my heart should have been was void, and each one-night stand I had did little to fill it. If anything, it only deepened the hole. When the hole got bigger, so did my thirst for a drink.
I didn’t think I could do it again even if I wanted to; have another one-night stand, especially after seeing Elle again. Elle was the only woman I had ever connected to on such a deep level, and I missed that. I missed making love to her. I missed seeing her.
“Are you planning on entering the smash up derby this year?” Ezra asked, sensing the need for a topic change. “Because if you are, I’m so going to kick your ass.”
