CHAPTER 11
OLIVER
Two more minutes. Then I’m leaving.
It’s already twenty minutes past when my date was supposed to start, and I’m still sitting alone at the bar. Considering I’m one of two people sitting here—and the only man—I’m not hard to find. If Paul was to walk in, he’d be able to spot me instantly.
Which means he’s not here.
I check the message feature on the dating app again. Nothing. The message I sent asking if he was still coming is marked as unread.
Great. Another wasted evening. So far this year, my date with Colt was the most successful night I’ve had.
Mostly thanks to Aaron. It’s pathetic that he’s the best date I’ve had, even if I can’t call it a date, which is why I went back on the app in the first place. It’s part of my multi-step plan to get Aaron off my mind. If I can find someone else to focus my romantic attention on, then it’ll be easier to see him as a friend.
That’s the ideal situation. I’d take getting laid as a close second. At least then, Aaron won’t be the last guy I took to bed. Maybe then I won’t think about him every time I jerk off. It’s getting to be a real problem. He’s always there. Doesn’t matter if I’m in the shower or in bed. He comes to mind so easily, with a long list of all the things I didn’t get to do with his incredible body. The one that’s on display for me weekly during our runs. No matter what the weather, he’s always in the skimpy little shorts. On warm days, he strips his top off entirely.
It’s not funny. I almost ran into a mailbox because I couldn’t take my eyes off his abs.
I’m about to call it, downing the last of my beer and motioning for the bartender to get me the bill. I’d rather wallow in my own home. At least I can put on sweatpants instead of wearing these uncomfortable jeans. They look amazing on my ass, which is why I wore them, but they’re hell to sit in.
“Hey,” a familiar voice says.
This has to be some sick joke from the universe. Is Aaron going to appear every time I’m having a shitty date? I can’t possibly deserve that.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I say, swiveling to face him. He’s dressed in black slacks and a salmon polo shirt.
“A few of the guys from work wanted to go out tonight.” He nods toward a group of people at a table in the corner. They’re laughing and nudging each other. “I spotted you and wanted to come say hi. You here on your own?”
“I guess so.” The two minutes I gave myself to wait this out have passed, and I’m still sitting here alone.
“Bad date?” He grimaces, as though he knows what’s coming next. He probably does, considering we bonded over our bad luck.
I’m not sure I’m pleased that he can read me so well. Or maybe my life is so pathetic that it’s easy to figure out withouteven asking. “I think the other person has to show up to call it a date.”
“Ouch. Do you want to join us?”
Do I want to spend the evening hanging out with a group of people I don’t know, while they pity me for my shitty date? “Sure,” I hear myself say. Apparently, the chance to be near Aaron, even in a group setting, is too much for me to resist.
“Come on over when you’re ready. We’ve got a couple pitchers of beer and some shared food coming.”
“Thanks.”
He walks back toward his coworkers. He motions toward me, a few of them looking up at me as he speaks. I can’t help but wonder what he’s saying about me; if he’s telling them how sorry he feels for me and my inability to get a guy to even show up for a date.
After I’ve gotten another beer and officially closed out my tab, I head over. This way, I’m not mooching off the group.
“You made it,” Aaron says as he pulls out a chair. “Oliver, this is Barrett, Roger, and Casey.” They all mumble variations of a greeting, putting on big smiles.
“We were just trying to solve a debate,” the guy directly across from me says. I’m pretty sure he’s the one that Aaron called Casey.
“No, donotdrag him into this ridiculousness.” Aaron holds up a finger, as though he might scold his friend. Hell, I’d be terrified if Aaron did that to me.
It doesn’t faze Casey. “It’s not ridiculous, and if he’s going to sit here, then he should get to provide an opinion.”
“I’m so sorry.” Aaron shakes his head and reaches for his beer. “Please still talk to me after this.”
Honestly, this guy could ask me to help him rob a bank, and I’m confident I’d say yes right now. It’s the first time Aaron’s saidanything that suggests he likes having me around for more than just a little bit of instruction.
