Alex watched me with a curious expression, his hands wrapped around his beer. He seemed friendly, but there was something sad about him too. Amid the happy throng of the bar, he felt like a kindred spirit.
“Rough night?” I asked, then shook my head. “Sorry, that was too personal. You don’t have to answer that.”
He raised his eyebrows. “More personal than a kiss?”
Point taken. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”
He took a sip of his beer, nodding as he lowered it back onto the bar. “But yeah, it hasn’t exactly been my day. Until a minute ago anyway.” He smiled, and that annoying fluttering returned to my chest. “Not a date,” he added. “In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” I lied, though my blush probably gave me away. Not that I was interested in him. I was just curious.
“Are you sure? Because I seem to remember you kissing me.”
“You looked like you needed a pick-me-up. And like I said, it’s tradition.”
“Right. Consider me picked up, then.” He nodded to my empty glass. “Can I buy you another? It’s the least I can do considering you surely had to lower your standards to kiss me.”
“Eh, it wasn’t so bad.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply I’m a bad kisser. Only that you are clearly out of my league.”
“At least we’re on the same page, then.”
“About me not being a bad kisser, you mean.”
I shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”
Alex shook his head, that almost smile, which I guessed was his default expression, on his lips. “I’ve got to tell you, Florida Girl, you are—” But a swell of movement beside me cut him off. I turned just in time to catch Nina storming off toward the bathroom in a flurry of tears.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ollie said before running after her.
“Looks like someone’s having a rougher night than I am,” Alex said.
“My friends...” I was breathless, partly from talking to Alex and partly from worry. “I’m sorry. I better go check on them. It was nice to meet you. Thanks for the... uh...”
“Kiss?” he said.
“Yeah, that.”
“Anytime, Florida Girl.”
I stood, grabbing my and Nina’s purses before pushing my way through the crowd to the women’s restroom.
“Occupied!” Ollie called when I knocked.
“It’s Jo!”
A moment later, the lock clicked, and the door eased open. Ollie stepped aside to let me past him, and I took in the scene of the bathroom slash storage closet. Nina perched on a cardboard box among the mop and broom and cleaning supplies, head in her hands. Ollie was at her side as soon as the door shut, his arm hooked around her shoulders. Nina glanced up at me with tear-filled eyes and smudged mascara.
“What’s going on?” I said.
Nina buried her face in her hands again. “Ask him.”
I glared at Ollie. “What did you do to her?”
Ollie’s ears turned pink. “I think it’s what I won’t be doing to her that’s the problem.” Nina shoved his arm from her shoulders.
“What do you mean?”
