The bartender whistled as he twisted the bottle to avoid spilling the liquor after pouring. “This one’s on the house.”
Xander lifted the glass in a toast. “Good man.”
The bartender saluted him as he walked off to tend to another patron.
Xander nodded toward the bartender. “That’s a good man, Jay.”
Jamal’s humor echoed around them.
Xander and his friend Jamal had only been in the bar for all of ten minutes, and already Xander was on his third glass of cognac.
They were in a local bar not far from Xander’s apartment. He was set to report for duty tomorrow and was taking his final night off to drink away the prior night.
Though he was happy to be there for Rylee, being her shoulder to cry on took a toll on him in ways he couldn’t quite understand.
He ran a hand over his locs, which he’d tied back, and grunted into his glass.
Laughter and clinking glasses filled his sound space. And though the bar was just brick walls, vintage booths, and dim lighting, it was a safe haven for him in that moment.
Because last night was beyond a lot for him.
He’d already told his friend everything. It was the only reason Jamal—who Xander called Jay—left his family of four to come hang with Xander as he attempted to drown his problems in brown liquor.
The two sat in silence for a bit before a woman approached the bar on Xander’s right.
He glanced at her and gave her a non-verbal greeting to be polite.
“Hey,” she said with a smile.
“What’s up?” he returned.
Xander was returning to sipping his drink and minding his business when the woman said, “You look like you’re a regular here. What do you recommend?”
Xander smiled. “Everything, honestly.”
She held his attention, refusing to break eye contact first. Instinctively, Xander’s eyes lowered from hers to peek at the cleavage she kept on display through her deep V-neck sweater dress.
“Stephanie,” she said, extending her hand to him. “And you are?”
Xander took her hand, which was soft in his and much smaller. “Xander.”
“Xander,” she repeated, her smile growing. “Beautiful name for a beautiful man.”
He scoffed a laugh, looking away. Licked his lips next. “I’m getting hit on.”
She giggled. “Yes, you are.”
Xander chuckled this time.
This was nothing new for Xander, nor was the setting out of place for an interaction like this.
This was exactly how Xander’s life used to be only three years ago. A meeting at a bar that often—if not always—led to a trip to his apartment only a block away.
And just like those past meetings, Stephanie’s lingering in Xander’s presence was feeling all too familiar.
“So…” She leaned in closer. “What are you getting into after you finish that drink?”
“Hmm,” Xander expressed, lifting the cognac to sip, licking his lips then looking her way. “Going home, getting in bed, then calling my lady to tell her I love her and to wish her a good night.”
