Page 31

Chapter 31

Moxie

I ’m hit with the old familiar smell of beer, sweat, and the stale remnants of cigarettes—aromas that haven’t been allowed indoors in years but the scent of which never quite faded. My entrance goes unnoticed, even though it feels like the music should have screeched to a halt with strange looks from the customers. I haven’t been here for months.

“Where the hell have you been?” Murray scolds as if I’m a delinquent employee.

“It’s good to see you too.” I sit at the barstool that used to be my favorite spot every week.

“Usual?” he asks, already pouring a beer for me.

I nod as I look around the room and note a couple of guys whose attention I caught. I briefly consider prowling for a rebound hookup, but the thought makes me sick. It feels like cheating on Wyatt. I’m not over him and maybe never will be. Maybe I don’t want to be.

“I have to cash those guys out, but don’t go anywhere. I want to hear what’s been going on with you.”

I came here tonight out of habit and because I have to decide about the promotion. Sally gave me the better part of the month to consider. I promised her an answer tonight, and I don’t feel prepared to give one. I’m hoping a drink will help me stop overthinking it, and my feet lead me back to Murray’s.

He dries his hands on a bar towel, tosses it aside, and leans on the counter. “Spill.”

“Nothing to tell.” I shrug.

“Bullshit,” he says. “Where were you?”

“I met someone.” I guess technically two someones.

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. You meet someone every night.”

I roll my eyes. Okay, I deserved that one, although I have no shame in my hookup past. I’m allowed to like sex whether I’m in a relationship or not.

“No, I mean I dated someone. And made a friend? I don’t know. Shit’s been weird.” The last couple of months started off feeling strange because I was out of my element, but every time Hannah imposed her friendship on me or I’d find myself spilling my life story to Wyatt, that wrongness felt a little righter.

Murray’s eyebrows shoot up. “No kidding?”

“Would I lie?” I ask.

“Definitely,” he says.

I flip him off and he chuckles, then sobers and shakes his head. “Alright, I believe you. You went and got yourself a life.”

His words strike me. Before I can figure out how to respond, a man further down the bar flags down Murray.

“One sec,” he says and goes to take the order.

Was I not living before?

Murray makes his way toward me but doesn’t quite get there, muttering, “Oh no, not again” and backpedaling. I turn around and see Hannah tentatively poking her head into the bar, her eyes searching. Her face lights up with recognition when she finds me.

“It’s okay, Murray. She doesn’t bite,” I say.

He reluctantly takes her order, a more confident request for wine than her once absurd ask for “some alcohol.”

“I’m not even crying this time.” She winks at him, and it looks like she’s trying to flush a bug out of her eye.

Murray’s face morphs into a grimace, and he ducks into the back room to pretend he’s busy.

“So, these dates you’ve been going on that haven’t gone well... how many of them have you winked at?” I ask, as casually as I can muster.

“A few. I was trying to be flirty. Why?”

Yikes. “No reason.” We’re definitely going to have to work on that, but I’m not going to get her spiraling in Murray’s again. He might kill me. “I’m guessing from his reaction you haven’t become a frequent patron. What are you doing here?”

“Don’t be mad, but you looked stressed when you left work, so I kind of... followed you.”

I laugh. I probably should be concerned, but it’s so Hannah. I know she’s only looking out for me.

“You’re good. Don’t worry.”

Her shoulders relax and she takes a sip of her wine. “Are you, though?”

Today was fine. F.I.N.E. fine. Entirely stress-free and very much like it has been for the last several years. And that’s what’s stressing me out. I was bored before, sure, but how has it suddenly become unbearable and so lacking in hope? I can’t keep doing what I’m doing.

I look at Hannah watching me with earnest patience and count myself lucky to have a friend who cares enough to stalk me. The me of two months ago might have tolerated work, but she wouldn’t have let Hannah get so close to me. Wyatt either. And with what I thought were good reasons. Given the way I’ve been hurting the last few days, I should feel reassured in those reasons, but while I had to give up Wyatt, Hannah’s been there to pick me up. It’s been nice to have someone to lean on.

The breakup was painful, but for the first time in a long time I felt something . Maybe Murray was right—I went and got myself a life. I let people in. I let myself feel, and having been through that, I wouldn’t trade it for the numb way I was walking through the world before.

“It looks like there’s a whole lot going on in that noggin of yours,” Hannah says, absently spinning on her stool while I perform mental gymnastics. From the outside it probably looks more like I'm holding a pose while someone paints a contemplative portrait.

“I need to text Sally. I’m going to take the job.”

Hannah fist pumps. “Yes! I would have supported you no matter what you decided, but you’ll do great.”

My thoughts race, and my mouth runs to catch up. “But I still need more variety. I don’t know why I waited so long to get out and do things. I’m going to sign up for more activities. Or join a club. Or do some volunteering.”

“I like where this is going,” she says. “I would totally ask Murray to get us some celebratory champagne, but the bubbles give me burps and I have a sneaking suspicion it’s not really your drink.”

I shake my head, barely processing what she’s saying because my heart is thrumming in my chest. Adrenaline is flooding my veins, and I suddenly feel like I need to get up and go. Do all the things. “I’ll take a pass on the champagne.”

I feel good. Great. The room feels brighter, sharper, and suddenly everything is crystal clear. If I was so wrong about keeping people out before, how much else was I wrong about?

My stomach lurches. What have I done? I look up at Hannah, and sensing my shift, she snaps to attention.

“I think I’ve made a big mistake.”

“With Wyatt?” Her voice is tentative, like she’s terrified I'll say no. She has nothing to be afraid of.

“Yes.”

She practically collapses onto the bar in relief. “Oh, thank god. I knew you’d come around eventually.”

“I didn’t.”

“But you did,” she sing-songs.

“Let’s not get obnoxious about it,” I warn.

She’s giddy, bouncing in her seat. “Remember how I said I didn’t want to tell you how he was doing because it was his story to tell?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I'm a lying liar who lies because I’m going to tell you.”

The words pour out of her. My high is crushed as she tells me that Noah wanted to close the business, but then it’s pieced back together as she tells me about Wyatt’s business plan and Noah’s agreement to give it another shot. If I was at all unsure about wanting to go back to Wyatt, she’s erased any lingering doubts. He’s nothing like Allison. He never was.

“My mom heard that Shred and Tread had so much immediate interest with their new digital offering, Wyatt thinks they are going to have to hire someone to work a few hours here and there. It might be perfect for someone who’s looking for something adventurous to do on the side of her new job.”

“Really?” My old wounds will never disappear, but being able to spend time with Wyatt at work would go a long way toward easing my nerves. I look at Hannah and shake my head. I don’t know how I got along without her. “You’re a genius.”

She clinks my glass. “I know.”