“That’s not what I expected you to say.”
She sits back in her chair and I watch the change happen in almost slow motion. Like a lotus flower closing up for the night, leaving me wondering if I lost her. “You think it’s silly, don’t you?”
“What?” I ask a little hurt that she’d think that. “No. I’m not musically inclined, but I think it’s a great idea. The world needs more music.”
“You think so?” she asks and it hits me that maybe she hasn’t had any praise when it comes to her ideas.
“Yes,” I reply firmly.
I watch as a blush appears on her cheeks before she drops her eyes and looks at where our hands are connected. It happens in a breath and she gets lost in the moment as she traces the lines on my palm. Tingles race through my body at the sensation and I wonder if she’s aware of theeffect she has on me. All it took was that reassurance from me, a tiny moment where I just witnessed her coming back to life—like watching a lotus flower open.
But after all that, Angie is still a mystery to me. We can take this as slow as we need to, but what I do know is that she likes two things: piano and wearing black. Apart from that, that’s all I know. And it terrifies me to have this burning need to get to know her on a soul-deep level. Because isn’t that what crushing leads to? Dating and then getting to know someone better than you know yourself?
10
ANGIE
I’m placing down the sixth cocktail I’ve made today when I feel him. I fear I’ve been woefully misinformed when it comes to dating. I always thought that you make plans, text them daily to make sure their feet are still warm, then the night before, reconfirm the date you planned at the beginning of the week is still set, and then ultimately cancel at the last minute. Brandon is flushing every one of my theories and fears about dating down the drain. Maybe he’s following a pattern? Or maybe he’s just sure of what he wants? Or maybe we’re two souls who’ve been adrift for longer than either of us realizes, and we’re both making our way back to shore together. Either way, it’s a refreshing take, and I find that I don’t hate it.
I make sure the patrons on my side of the bar are taken care of before I head over toward him.
“Are you stalking me?” I ask teasingly as I place a cocktail napkin in front of him.
“No,” a voice to his right says, and my cheeks flame because I didn’t notice him, “I all but begged him to bring me here so I can see who he’s so infatuated with.”
My nerves take over, and it takes me a minute to remember my customer-service brain. “Hi. Infatuated, huh?” I get started on two waters and set them in front of them. My eyes flicker to Brandon, whose gaze is firmly fixated on me, before going back to his friend.
“Yep. I’m Carter,” he introduces himself to me and holds his hand out.
My body relaxes and I take his hand in mine and give it a shake. “Angie. So, what can I get you two?”
“I’ll take a pale ale, if you’ve got it,” Carter says.
I nod and look over at Brandon questioningly who shakes his head. I drum my fingers on the bartop and head to the lineup of beers on tap and find a suitable pale ale for Carter.
“Here you go,” I say as I set his beer in front of him. “Do you want to start a tab?”
He takes a sip and nods appreciatively. “No, thank you.”
I’m in an awkward position. I’ve been around Brandon while he’s been at work. But now that we’re in a much different position than we were two months ago, I feel stuck.
“Go take care of your customers. We’ll be here,” Brandon speaks up and makes the decision for me. I think he’s caught on to my need to process things and I send him a grateful smile before moving down the bar and taking care of the other patrons in the form of refills and paying their tabs. I start the next load in the glass-only dishwasher, wipe down the bar top, then double-check the beer levels and make sure we’re good on liquor. By the time I make it back over to Brandon, Carter is gone.
“Sorry,” I tell him regretfully when I finally get back to him.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Where’d Carter go?” I ask as I snag his empty glass and cash off the bar then wipe off where he was sitting.
“He has a date.”
“Who’s the lucky person?”
Brandon smiles and I think he likes that I didn’t assume it was a woman. It’s Philly after all where the LGBTQ+ community is more welcoming than most. Plus, if loving who you want to love, no matter the gender, makes someone happy, then it shouldn’t matter to other people.
“He hasn’t told me. But it’s some guy in his apartment building.”
“That’s convenient,” I say with a soft smile.
