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eighteen

I read the message once.

Then again.

Eric’s words about beer and his explanation about the taste of it completely turn into white noise as I stare down at my phone. It’s only when I realize something important that I finally snap back up to look at the man in front of me.

Huxley can see me.

Huxley is in this bar.

“I…” God, I have no idea what this man has been saying, and I feel a little bit bad about it. But how can I feel too bad when there’s something more interesting happening that he has no notion about? Trying to look casual, I glance around, smiling once at Eric before my gaze goes over his shoulder.

At least, until my phone vibrates in my hand.

Stop looking for me. You’re not good at being subtle.

Fuck, I really must not be for him to have caught on so quickly. My heart races, and my head is still clear enough that I can work through this rationally. At least, I hope so. When my eyes go back to Eric, I see he’s finally caught on, and he’s starting to look a little unsure.

“Sorry,” I say, giving him my best, fakest smile. “I was just looking for where my friends are. They, uh, get a little out of control when we go out.”

Immediately his puppy-dog smile is back, and I can’t believe he fell for something so easily. “I’m going to get another one of these,” he tells me, gently shaking the now-empty beer bottle in front of him. “Are you sure you don’t want something?”

When my phone goes off, I almost chuck it across the bar, just to prove a point. Instead, I glance down, seeing that yet another message from Huxley has appeared on my screen.

Have a drink. A real one. I won’t let you do anything stupid.

“My friends,” I lie to Eric, giving him another reassuring look. “They’re just being needy. If you don’t want to put up with it?—”

“No! No, it’s fine!” He’s too eager as he calls the bartender, who comes over and looks at him as Eric taps his bottle. When the man looks at me, I hesitate, then let out a quick, nervous breath.

“Something with vodka that doesn’t taste like vodka?” I ask, and he gives me a quick, knowing grin before getting another bottle of whatever the hell Eric is drinking and setting it in front of him on a napkin.

“I thought you weren’t getting anything else,” Eric remarks cheerfully.

I wasn’t. “Guess I changed my mind. I’m feeling a lot less tipsy than I thought,” I lie, chin on my hand as I smile his way. The bartender doesn’t take long before he’s back, and he smoothly places a napkin on the bar before thumping down a glass with pink liquid in it, along with a healthy amount of cherries littering the top.

To my surprise, Eric reaches out and takes one by the stem. My eyebrows climb toward my bangs when he does, and I share a sympathetic look with the bartender, who looks just as shocked by his audacity as I do.

Naturally, my phone lets me know I have another text message, and I almost snort out loud at Hux’s text.

Wow. Cute. You sure know how to pick them.

Clearly, I whisper silently inside my head. With a less natural smile, I grab a cherry as well, popping it off the stem between my teeth. He has to be somewhere close enough to see, though I don’t think he can hear us. At least, he hasn’t remarked on anything Eric has said yet.

“So, are you from here?” God, we’re back to the small talk phase of this ordeal. “The Lexington area?”

“Nah.” Stirring my drink with a straw, I shake my head before sipping at it, just to see how strong the alcohol is. When I can’t taste anything other than juice and sugar, however, I decide it’s either weak or just so well made that I can’t taste how fast this is going to get me drunk.

I’m really hoping it’s the first one, but something about the confidence of this bartender tells me it might not be. I can sip it slowly, I suppose; plus nothing says I have to drink the whole thing.

Especially if Hux isn’t over here forcing it down my throat. Surely he knows he only has so much power over text, right?

As if sensing my thoughts, my phone goes off again, and I sneak a look at it without Eric noticing.

Lean in. Laugh at whatever joke he’s trying to make. Come on, Kai. You’re not putting on a good act for him.

My stomach flips, and I swear my insides are suddenly filled with butterflies, all trying to take flight at once. I take one breath, then another, and even as I tell myself I don’t have to do what Huxley says…I do.

I grin at Eric, and when he pauses for my reaction, I give a soft snicker, like I really find him entertaining. With my legs crossed, I lean in, one arm still braced on the bar as I do.

His eyes widen, and his next words fall out of his mouth as he stumbles over them, clearly surprised at my reaction to him. “Yeah?” he asks, though I really have no idea what he’s asking. “It was kind of funny, right? I was second-guessing myself in the middle.” His eyes drift down to my phone, then back up at my face. “You really don’t have to go?”

I could always put my phone back in my pocket and use it as a way of flipping off Hux wherever he is in the bar. I even consider it, for all of about two seconds, before I realize I’m absolutely not going to do that.

I can’t .

“So long as you don’t mind my needy friends, I’m all yours right now,” I assure him with the sweetest lie I can manage. I’m not all his. I’m only here because Huxley is telling me to play along, and for some reason, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

God, I have such a damn problem.

When Eric promises it’s fine—that he totally gets what it’s like to have friends like them—I feel the tiniest stab of guilt in my chest at the lie.

He’s sweet and earnest. The exact opposite of Hux, and that’s the whole issue. He’s not Huxley, and yet he’s the one in front of me while Hux texts me, and there’s something about that.

Something that really has me crossing my legs just a little bit tighter to soothe the needy ache that’s starting to tingle between them. But Eric doesn’t even notice.

He doesn’t notice when my phone buzzes again, or when I glance down at it in my lap to see what Hux wants this time. It’s sad that he doesn’t and it makes me wonder if he’s just pretending not to in an attempt to make me think he doesn’t care at all.

Do better. He wants you to like him.

Why do you want him to like me?

I hurry to shoot the message back, giving Eric some shitty little excuse about one of my friends probably going to puke in the bathroom soon. It sets off another anecdote about a friend or something; for all I know, his dog puked on his carpet instead of it being a real person.

Hux is quick to respond, though it starts with just an eye-rolling emoji that makes me want to frown.

Play along now, come on. Do him a favor and at least let him think you’re into him.

But I don’t want to. I don’t want Eric to think I’m into him, when the person I am into is close enough to see me. It makes my body almost vibrate with tension, and it’s nearly impossible not to look around the bar for any sign of Huxley.

Somehow, he knows it too.

Be a good girl and do what I say. Stop trying to look for me without me noticing. Like I said, you really aren’t subtle.

He shouldn’t have this kind of effect on me when I can’t even see him, and the thought causes a rebellious streak of heat goes up my spine. He shouldn’t be able to do this to me, and I suddenly wonder if I can do it to him. If I can beat him at this game he’s started.

Letting out a breath, I casually put my phone on the bar and pick up my drink. Instead of using the straw, I lock eyes with Eric and down half of it before setting it back on the napkin. “Do you come here a lot?” I ask, scooting closer on my chair until my knees bump into his. I’m not really this confident. Especially with someone I don’t like.

But this isn’t for him.

He stammers for an answer while I smile indulgently, and once again I find myself absently picking up my drink. “Yeah, umm—Well not really. I don’t come here like, looking for anything,” Eric is quick to assure me. Not that I care. “And I don’t just like, creep on girls or whatever. God, this is not getting better.”

“You’re all good.” He is, and only because I’m not really focused on him. “I think you’re sweet.” The taste of my drink is sweet in my mouth, and it’s probably the only thing that keeps me from scrunching my nose in distaste when he leans toward me, close enough that I can smell the beer on his breath.

“You, umm. You’re really pretty,” he informs me, in a way that tells me he’s been drinking more than just beer. My phone lights up from the corner of my eye, but this time, I don’t look at it right away. If he wants to play this game with me, then Huxley doesn’t get to make up all the rules. Eric doesn’t pull away, and I give him my most charming smile when he places a hand on my knee.

His palm is sweaty, and it’s a real turnoff. My phone lights up again, and I finally glance over at it.

I didn’t tell you to let him touch you.

Are you really playing this game with me, pretty girl?

But this time I don’t reply. I am in fact playing this game with him to win, so I let Eric lean in further, his hand sliding up to my hip as he precariously lets himself get ever closer, as if he’s afraid I’m going to shove him away at any moment. Though honestly, it would probably be better for him if I did.

“Hey, umm.” I lean back just a little, biting my lip like I’m nervous. “Could we talk a little more? I think I sort of need…” I give him an apologetic smile and pick up my drink again, though the nervousness I feel is real instead of a put on show for Hux. I down the rest of my drink without thinking about it, and set it back on the napkin as Eric watches, his hand still on my thigh.

“If you need to go check on your friends or anything, I totally get it.” He nearly trips over his words in his desire to make me see him as understanding and patient. And as if on cue, my phone goes off again, though I don’t look at it this time as his thumb rubs the top of my thigh.

I wouldn’t like him anyway. He’s too nice, I realize. I’m not interested in the Boy Scout routine when it isn’t just a facade. “Do you need to look at that?” he adds, his eyes darting toward my phone.

“Maybe in a minute.” I shrug. “It’s definitely not an emergency. I like talking to you and my friends can wait a minute.” Even though I don’t want to make him wait a minute, not when I’m dying to know what he said. But there’s something incredibly satisfying about denying him this attention, so this time when Eric leans in, I let him.

His kiss is just as disappointing as the rest of him. I sigh into it anyway, trying to relax rather than pull away.

I try to imagine it’s Huxley kissing me instead, but I…

Can’t .

It’s not the same. His lips are too soft, too hesitant. He doesn’t move in to dominate the kiss. Hell, he barely seems to know what he wants.

Not to mention he tastes like beer.

I can feel my phone vibrate on the bar once, then twice, and I can’t help but smile into his mouth, though it’s not from Eric himself. Part of me feels bad, because I know this isn’t very nice of me. But when his thumb strokes closer to my inner thigh, suddenly my guilt dries right up.

He’s only doing this for sex, after all. He doesn’t care about me on a personal level.

If he can use me to get what he wants, then I can do the same thing to him.

“Sorry.” I pull back, noting how he’s panting as if we’d been doing something impressive. Something worth it. My hand is already on my phone, and when he leans back to chug his beer, I let my eyes fall to the screen.

You’re actually doing this.

You really think you can win this game, little bunny?

Fuck, he kisses like a virgin. That’s embarrassing for him .

“Hey, umm.” My eyes flick back up to Eric’s, and I watch as he pays his tab without offering to pay for my drinks. And when I go to give my card to the bartender, he shakes his head and gestures to the other side of the bar.

I don’t look.

I won’t look, but suddenly, I have a much better idea of where my stalker might be.

“What’s up?” I try to keep my voice kind and interested. I work not to sound disinterested in Eric’s answer, when I’d much rather be walking across the bar until I can find the man who’s texting me.

“Would you maybe, uh—” He’s tripping over his words, and I finally let my eyes find his once again. God, he looks so nervous, and he barely has half of my attention. Is this how he is with all the girls he talks to here?

Or is it just because I don’t seem interested enough?

“Do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe somewhere quieter or just, I don’t know…” he trails off with mumbled words I can’t really hear, and immediately I know I’m going to tell him absolutely not. Especially when he gestures towards the side door of Revival Room with a sad look on his face that reminds me of a kicked puppy.

“I’m…” My response fades as my phone buzzes in my hand, and I absently glance down at it as I form a denial in my head. There’s no way I’m going to take this further with him. There’s no way I’m going to go outside with a man who expects something from me that I’m certainly not willing to give. I need to?—

Go with him.

The three words glare up at me from the screen, knocking every other thought out of my brain. Is Hux close enough to hear? Surely not. If he were, I’d be able to see him. But I suppose Eric isn’t that subtle. Especially with how he keeps looking toward the side door like he can convince me with his eyes alone.

Maybe Hux is just that good at knowing what’s going on.

But I wonder if this is taking things too far.

“We don’t have to actually go anywhere.” God, he’s begging now, and his eyes are getting wider with every moment that I don’t respond. “I know you’re here with your friends. Just that little area kind of near the parking lot. You know what I’m talking about?” His words speed up, and I worry if I don’t interrupt him soon, Eric will be talking at a speed faster than light.

My phone lights up again, reminding me of Hux’s unanswered text, and I look down once more, as if maybe the words will have changed or I’d misread them.

Go with him.

Nope, there they are again. Three words that are short and easy to understand, yet make me incredibly nervous.

“Okay.” The word is breathy and barely audible. Especially considering the noise of the bar. Glancing around, I can’t see Em or Mads, but knowing them, they’ve made friends. Still, I shoot them a quick text, letting them know I’m going out back with my new friend and not to worry.

Just in case they get the urge to come check on me.

“Yeah?” He sounds shocked as hell at my agreement, and immediately Eric is scrambling to his feet fast enough that he nearly knocks over his chair. I watch him stumble over it, wincing in sympathy for him, before dropping to the floor myself.

This time, instead of pulling my shirt down, I help it ride up a little. Eric looks as I’d expected him to. But this isn’t for him. Neither is the way I run my fingers through my hair, tousling it lightly as I let out a breath. “Yeah,” I agree, then shove my phone into my back pocket. “Yeah, let’s go, Eric.” I flash him a smile I hope seems genuine, and when he takes my hand in his and leads me toward the back of the bar, I follow without question.

For the life of me, I have no idea how in the world this night is going to go. Especially with us being out of sight of the main bar and away from Huxley’s gaze.