“Stop selling yourself short,” Lilah argued, her voice stern.
“I just can’t tell if I’m reading into it. Maybe she’s just friendly with everyone.”
Lilah snorted. “Mira never smiled before you started working here. And now she giggles all the time. It’s weird.”
“She does not,” I argue.
“Ugh,” Lilah groans, done with me. “It’s simple. She likes you. You like her. Ask her out, or better yet, ask her to go home with you?”
“You really think I’m cooler than I am, don’t you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, my friend. I don’t think you’re cool at all.”
“Thanks for that,” I said, pulling out my phone to see what time Mira was coming in tonight.
The day I gave her my number I turned my phone off silent for the first time since I bought it, not wanting to risk missing her text. I was halfway up Roan Mountain when it came in, slipping off the trail to take advantage of the limited cell service. I expected a vague “hello” or “what’s up,” even a good-hearted dig at my weekend plans since Mira had made her lack of camping experience well known, but the message on the screen wasn’t a message at all. It was a photo. A selfie of her holding a purple blazing star stalk, one of the variety of flowers I’d explained were in bloom this time of year. Her cheeks were pink as she smiled into the lens, exposing the leather straps of her camera harness against her shoulders. And I loved that she’d stopped to send this to me even though she was at work. That day, instead of hiking to the peak, I spent the rest ofmy daylight hours getting to know her better, making camp where I wouldn’t lose contact.
Although she kept up a protective armor at the bar, her texts were more uninhibited. Honest. And I felt as if I’d finally earned my way into her inner circle of trust, a privilege I never wanted to lose.
“Have you told her you’re leaving yet?” Lilah asked, slicing limes for that evening’s bar service.
“About the trip? Or from Finn’s?”
“Either. Both,” she said, knowing that this week was the end of a chapter for me, one I’d been ready to turn the page on for quite some time now.
I shook my head. “I feel like my particular brand of family drama is a lot to dump on someone. Especially when I haven’t bought her dinner yet.”
“Mmm. You’ve bought her plenty of dinners,” Lilah offered, having taken advantage of my DoorDash account herself a time or two.
“You know what I mean.”
“What’s that thing therapists say? Relationships are built on a foundation of trust? You’ll never know if you can be together if you don’t tell her the truth.”
It wasn’t like I was trying to keep things from her, but once people find out who I am, things always get weird, especially with potential suitors. Explaining that I’m the son of a CEO has opened the door to questions I don’t love answering, like what my net worth is or if I own multiple properties. It’s as if who I am as a person takes a backseat to what I can offer them, so I tend to omit that part of my life. I’ve enjoyed being Hudson the bartender rather than Hudson the nepo-baby.
“You’re right,” I sighed, opening another bag of limes.
“I usually am,” she grinned, mixing another batch of basil and rosemary syrup for our cocktail of the month. “So tonight then?”
“Tonight.”
But as I sit here, staring at the clock, knowing that we only have a few minutes left before Finn is sure to kick us out, I’m still nervous.
“Do it!” Lilah mouths to me, nudging my shoulder, as Mira listens to one of the brothers regaling her about the financial security of investing in Pokémon cards.
I’m not sure if it’s Lilah staring me down, or the regret I’ll feel if I don’t make my move, but I find myself reaching for Mira’s hand across the table, stealing her attention. This isn’t the first time we’ve touched, but tonight the exchange is charged, and when her thumb grazes along my skin a flame ignites inside of me. I resist the urge to interlace my fingers with hers as her copper eyes glow under the fluorescents, the color mesmerizing like chalcopyrite in stone.
“Did you need something, or were you overcome with the urge to hold my hand?” she asks, as I find my words.
“I was wondering if you might want to—”
But before I can finish my question, Finn cuts me off.
“Closing time,” he says, shooing us out of the booth. “You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”
Lilah groans, gathering the remaining glasses onto the tray as the smoke shop guys scoot out the booth and towards the door. But Mira hangs back. She adjusts her hair, the messy chestnut curls bouncing right back as her fingers move through them.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her, forcing myself up out of the booth to gather my things. Behind the bar, I toss my sling bag over my shoulder, grab my jacket and say a final goodbye to Finn.
