We Shouldn't and Yet... (4 page)

Q, or Quentin, and I used to go to the same high school. We are great friends and have been on a tour overseas together. But when his father decided to retire and gave him this bar, he left the army as soon as he could and settled here. He’s made a good call. At least, he’s not the one drunk at five in the afternoon.

Q wipes down the bar in front of me and takes my empty glass. I don’t ask him for a refill. I know he’s going to carve me a new one if I do. I just grunt and try to find my wallet in my old jeans. My fingers are so fucking numb that I miss the pocket several times. I sigh and grunt when I finally find it.

“You’re pathetic, J.’’ Q throws his rag and snatches my wallet, takes a couple of bills and gives it back to me. “I can’t drive you home right now. I can’t close the bar so early.’’

“Didn’t ask for your help.’’

He leans over the bar, his clean shaven face closer to mine. The move makes me more dizzy than I already am. I tighten my grip on the bar, suddenly unsure if I’m going to make an ass of myself and fall from the high stool or if I’m going to puke all over the place. Yeah, I think I’m just past drunk now. Shit.

“Do you want to call your son, then?’’ Q taunts me, his voice harsher.

I frown at him, but can’t mutter a word. I clamp down my teeth, afraid of throwing up. My stomach rolls, but I don’t know if it’s only from the alcohol. I think it’s also from fear. If there’s one thing I don’t want it’s for Hal to see me like this. He’s seen me buzzed, he knows I drink my fair share, but this pathetic side of my life he doesn’t know about and I want to keep it that way. After all, what a cliché. I’m a broken soldier, back from a last hellish tour and I’m obviously going through some sort of shit PTSD. I don’t want to be a fucking cliché.

“Are you going to lecture me again, Q? Fuck, we did some crazy shit together so you’re one to talk.’’

“It was to have fun, not to forget and escape something. You really need to get your shit together, if not for yourself, for your son. Damn J, you have a
son
.’’ He pats my shoulder, the one that was dislodged over a year ago. Today, that bitch has been hurting me, but now I’m so numbed by the alcohol I don’t even feel the bite of the pain.

“I know I have a son!’’ I shake my head at him. Wrong move. “Uh…’’ I groan or moan, I don’t know.

“Are you going to puke?’’

I shrug and close my eyes, forcing more air through my mouth, pushing past the smell of alcohol and cheap perfumes mixed with sweat. That kind of smell doesn’t help with nausea. “Don’t know.’’

“If you puke in my bar J, I’m going to have you clean the bathrooms for a month and believe me, you don’t want that shit.’’

I growl my agreement and re-open my eyes. “I’m fine.’’ But I’m still slurring my words. I roughly rub my temples and blink a few times, trying to push away the fog overwhelming me. Slumber is starting to get a hold of me and I’m not fancying falling asleep on the bar. But that would complete the image of the drunk veteran.

“I don’t want to call Hal. Fuck.’’

“If you call Cassie she’s going to think it’s for a quickie.’’ He chuckles and walks away for a minute to serve a new customer. Then, he walks back to me with a tall glass of cold water.

I glare at the water, but drink it dutifully. I’m not in the right frame of mind to actually put up a fight. “Cassie?’’ I snort and push the empty glass toward my old friend. “If she knew I’m too drunk to even get it up she’d just han’ up.’’ I lean closer to him. “And honestly, that’s why she’s the perfect hookup material.’’

Q shakes his head and glances down at his left hand where a thick silver band is sitting on his finger. Yeah, he wouldn’t understand anymore. The guy got married a couple of years ago and is blissfully expecting his first child. Our lives have nothing in common.

“Who do you want me to call for you, then?’’

I sigh and put my elbows on the bar, head in hands, eyes closed. “Just don’t—‘’

“Jensen?’’

That voice. That fucking voice… It goes straight to my groin and even with all the alcohol running in my veins I feel my dick twitch. I stiffen and slowly straighten up, praying silently that I can pass as semi-sober.

I force a smirk on my face and avert my eyes from Q’s intrusive look. “Aideen.’’ My voice is rough, deep. It’s obvious that the hard liquor is taking its toll on my vocal chords. “What ’re you doing here?’’

She tilts her head to one side, her eyes taking me in slowly, carefully as if debating inside that head of hers. Debating what? I have no fucking clue and I’m not sure I really want to know.

“Looking for liquid comfort?’’ She shakes her head and takes the stool next to mine, offering a plastic smile to Q who’s looking to and from her and me.

“ID, please,’’ Q asks in a neutral tone, the kind he’s always used when assessing a situation or someone.

In the corner of my eye I see Aideen’s eyebrows disappear behind her thick bangs. “Oh! Of course, sorry.’’ She rummages in her purse and flashes Q her ID. “It’s been a while since I’ve last been carded.’’

Q examines it closely and finally returns it to her. “What’s your poison?’’

She fidgets and lets her eyes wander along the bottles behind Q. “Hm, a beer on tap, please.’’

Without another word, Q serves her beer but keeps his eyes on her. “How do you know each other?’’ Q asks, his voice warming up.

I feel Aideen relaxing as she takes her first sip. She glances at me and I can’t stop looking at her, at her warm eyes, at the way her lips glisten from her drink or how her cheeks are red from the heat outside. I don’t know what to make of her, and being drunk doesn’t help me one bit.

“I know Jensen’s son. We went to college together and I got a job offer here so Jensen is letting me stay with him and Hal for now.’’

Q chuckles and locks eyes with me. I know what he’s thinking. The fucker has always been easy to read.
You’re screwed, J. No, in fact you’d like to be screwed.
He wiggles his eyebrows and outright laughs. I clench my fists, but keep quiet. I don’t want to slur my words and the dizziness isn’t receding. But now my head is starting to pound. My alcohol-earned buzz is going to leave me with one hell of a hangover.

“Well then, nice to meet you Aideen. Could you drive his ass back home once you’re finished?’’

I growl and glare at my supposedly best and oldest friend. “Don’t you’ve work to do?’’ I snap, my words less noticeably slurred, but still, I can’t exactly hide that I’m drunk, that I probably smell like a liquor store and that if you asked me to walk in a straight line I’d more than likely end up on the floor or knocking into the furniture.

Q holds up his hands and leaves us alone, all the while laughing mockingly at me. “Asshole,’’ I mutter under my breath.

“I’m not sure if you two are friends or not.’’

I turn towards her and watch her take another sip of her beer. “Depends.’’

She shrugs and peeks at me, pushing away a few errant strands of hair and exposing her small and delicate ear. She has a tiny silver loop in her earlobe. “Wanna tell me why you’re drunk so early?’’

I roll my eyes and support my heavy head on my hand with my arm propped on the bar. “Why are you in a bar at five?’’ I fire back, my eyes coolly trained on her while my dick twitches again when her smile breaks free, blinding me.

“If it’s a give and take chat then I guess I need to play the game.’’ She takes another sip of her beer, and sighs. “I visited several apartments and only one appealed to me, but they were asking for too many guarantees. I’m still homeless and I’m afraid that my choices are going to be narrowed down pretty dramatically.’’ Her sweet mouth twisted. “I really don’t want to be in a bad neighborhood, but…’’ she trails off and shrugs again.

“Fuck it!’’ At my sudden outburst she opens her eyes wide, making her eyes look even bigger than usual. “You’re not homeless. Stay at home with Hal and me and stop being so fucking stubborn.’’

“I have more visits lined up tomorrow. We’ll see then.’’ She narrows her eyes on me, almost as if challenging me to say something to contradict her. But I won’t. “Your turn. Why are you drunk so early?’’ She quirks one perfect eyebrow at me, her lips twitching to turn up into a smile.

I fidget on my stool, careful to not lose my precarious equilibrium. “Because I can.’’

“Real inventive.’’ She stares at her empty glass. “It’s obvious that there’s something wrong and maybe you don’t want Hal to see, but I can’t ignore it. I don’t necessarily want to know what’s your deal, Jensen, but getting drunk never solved anything.’’

I shake my head, accentuating the dizziness, as her words register in my fogged brain. “I can’t believe this.’’ I stand up, keeping a tight grip on the bar and my vacated stool until the room stabilizes itself around me. “I’m not going to listen to a girl lecturing me.’’

She jumps to her feet, leans into me and glares. Her eyes are bright, so fucking bright with anger. It’s…beautiful.
Yeah, fuck me.

“Just because I’m sixteen years younger doesn’t mean I know nothing about life or how it can fuck us up. If you want to be an ass, that’s fine by me. I don’t exactly care if you’re trying to screw up your life and your chance at connecting with Hal, but I will not tolerate you being condescending. You know nothing about me.
Nothing
.’’

She’s out of breath. The air coming out of her parted lips puffs at my exposed neck while my eyes stay on her heaving chest. Her breasts are pushing against her top, more than a handful. I can even see her nipples pushing through her bra.

I massage my left temple and curse myself in my head. What’s my problem? And she’s fucking right! I don’t know her. Hal has told me she went through some shit and that’s probably why she’s decided to accept a job offer so far away from her hometown.

“You’re right. I’m just…’’

“A dick?’’

I choke on my breath, and laugh softly. It shakes everything in my chest and this time it’s not a smirk on my face, it’s a real big ass smile. But underneath this, when the word dick left her sweet mouth, my cock answered as if called. I discreetly adjust myself and nod.

“Yeah, I’m a dick.’’ I wave around us, at the different customers, most of them local drunks. “It’s one thing to get drunk at my friend’s bar, it’s somethin’ else having your son’s best friend confronting you.’’

“If you’re afraid I’ll say something to Hal, don’t be, I won’t. It’s between the two of you.’’

“Thanks.’’ I run a hand across my beard and then rub at my eyes. I’m sure they’re bloodshot. I must be a sight. “I wanted to tune things out a lil’ bit. It’s never good when I have too much time to kill.’’

I clench my jaw and avert my eyes. I really shouldn’t confide in her. I actually shouldn’t talk to her when we’re alone. In fact, I shouldn’t even have a fucking hard-on for this girl. That’s calling for a disastrous mess. I blink slowly, my eyelids getting heavier.

“I know the feeling,’’ she says softly, her eyes losing their bright light. “Let’s go. I’m sure you’re dying to sleep it off.’’

Without another word, she turns around and walks out, her footsteps light, but the set of her shoulders lets me know that there’s a huge weight on them. She’s a breathing contradiction and it’s insanely attractive. Maybe I should think about therapy, because it’s not normal. Having a hard-on for her is not normal.

Or maybe fucking Cassie tonight would do the trick. It’s easier and way more pleasurable than therapy and it effectively makes me forget everything for just an hour or two.

***

AIDEEN

“Where’s Hal?’’ I ask breathless. I let Jensen fall without any grace on the couch. He grunts and chuckles for no apparent reason. The man reeks of cheap alcohol. I should be mad to be stranded with a drunk man I barely know, but instead I want to smile. I do think he’s trying to find some kind of cop-out about something, but there’s a boyish mischievous glint in his eyes that mollified me completely. Also, even drunk and with bloodshot eyes he remains a good looking man. I’m not blind.

“Don’t know.’’ He runs a big hand in his buzzed hair and blinks a few times. “Is it Friday?’’

“Yes.’’ I put my purse on the small wooden bench next to the front door, careful to not invade the small space next to his helmet. “Why?’’

“He’s at the local peewee baseball team practice. He helps coach the kids.’’

I smile fondly at picturing Hal with a bunch of hyped up kids. I bet he’s a natural. It’s a wonder such an amazing guy is still single. Oh, since I’ve met him he’s had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious. I wonder if there’s a story there, but somehow I don’t feel like talking about love things with him. I don’t want to focus on my own past and it’s often how it works. You ask a question and the other person asks you one in turn. He knows the outline of what happened with Yann, but not all the sordid details or all the dark thoughts that are still plaguing me because of what he’s done.

“If you want to go and meet him, look for the stadium near the high school,’’ he mumbles, eyes now closed and a hand over his forehead while his other one is sitting in his lap.

“I think I’m going to stay here. Don't worry, I’ll be in my room.’’ I turn around, ready to head to the stairs and leave this grumpy, brooding man I don’t fully get and yet who is able to fascinate me in an unexplainable way.