table in a dark corner, and the creeping sensation I’d felt disappeared as we settled down with a few shots of bourbon.
As was their habit when they moved on to the hard stuff, Charlie and Joe began reliving the year they’d shared a college dorm room. I tuned them out. Their conversation went over my head. I’d never even finished high school. College life seemed like another world.
I twirled my glass in my hand and scanned the faces around me. The bar was definitely a man’s bar, all hard liquor and testosterone. There were a few women around, but not many. The doors opened and shut as patrons came and went. I watched them idly until a mop of familiar dark hair caught my eye. I sat up a little straighter. I’d been half-asleep, but every sense suddenly trained on him.
The figure disappeared into the crowd. I shook my head to clear it. I was imagining shit—wishful thinking, or whatever they called it. I’d only had one shot of bourbon, but maybe it’d gone to my head. I reached for another, forcing myself not to look again and to focus on the conversation around me. It didn’t work, and the next thing I knew, it was Joe’s turn to wave his hand in front of my face, much to Charlie’s amusement.
“Earth to Ash? Who are you staring at?”
I pointed at the flat screen above the bar. “I was watching the game.”
It was enough for Charlie, but Joe wasn’t fooled. He treated me to another searching stare before he shrugged and let it go. “Whatever. Ladies, I’ve got to split. I’ve got to get up in—shit—four hours. Are you going to be okay getting Princess Charlie home?”
I glanced at Charlie. He was fumbling with his pockets and attempting to get his jacket on. “Sure. His place isn’t far from here.”
“Make sure he gets through his front door this time. I’m going back to Seattle for a while, but maybe we could hook up and talk about that design next time I’m in town?”
I furrowed my brow as I tried to recall the conversation we’d had at the beginning of the evening. “You don’t live in Chicago anymore?”
Joe exchanged a glance with Charlie, and his almost permanent grin waned. “My folks live in Seattle. We’ve got some family stuff going on. I’m giving up my place here for a while.”
I was missing something, but it wasn’t my place to pry. I didn’t really know Joe. What went on in his personal life was none of my business. “Get my number from Charlie, and call me when you’re back. I can help you figure something out.”
“Trust me, I’ll be calling you. I’ve got friends who’ll freak when they know I’m getting your ink.”
“Hmm?”
Beside me, Charlie chuckled. “You’re wasting your time with Ash, man. He hasn’t got a clue how awesome he is.”
Joe clapped me on the back. “Fair enough, but, dude, you work for Ted Finnegan. Everyone in Lincoln Park knows you’re the shit.”
He punched my shoulder and left, but with Charlie happily unsteady on his feet, it was a while before I got him ready to go.
I kept a firm grasp on Charlie’s jacket as I followed him out of the bar. Keeping him upright required all my attention, and I’d pretty much forgotten about my quasi-Pete hallucination until Charlie stumbled. I lurched forward to catch him. A steady hand grasped my hip.
“Easy, fucker.”
I whirled around to find Pete behind me with a beer in his hand. The mile-wide grin on his face told me he was more than a little bit buzzed. I grinned back, the weird disappointment I’d felt when I thought I’d imagined him fading fast. “I thought you were working?”
Pete shrugged and offered me his beer. “The bus broke down and they couldn’t find another one. Shame, huh?”
I laughed, lifting the bottle to my lips. “If you say so. You look pretty happy to me.”
“I am.”
I gazed at him, and he gazed right back. For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I was probably even drunker than him, but there was no
As was their habit when they moved on to the hard stuff, Charlie and Joe began reliving the year they’d shared a college dorm room. I tuned them out. Their conversation went over my head. I’d never even finished high school. College life seemed like another world.
I twirled my glass in my hand and scanned the faces around me. The bar was definitely a man’s bar, all hard liquor and testosterone. There were a few women around, but not many. The doors opened and shut as patrons came and went. I watched them idly until a mop of familiar dark hair caught my eye. I sat up a little straighter. I’d been half-asleep, but every sense suddenly trained on him.
The figure disappeared into the crowd. I shook my head to clear it. I was imagining shit—wishful thinking, or whatever they called it. I’d only had one shot of bourbon, but maybe it’d gone to my head. I reached for another, forcing myself not to look again and to focus on the conversation around me. It didn’t work, and the next thing I knew, it was Joe’s turn to wave his hand in front of my face, much to Charlie’s amusement.
“Earth to Ash? Who are you staring at?”
I pointed at the flat screen above the bar. “I was watching the game.”
It was enough for Charlie, but Joe wasn’t fooled. He treated me to another searching stare before he shrugged and let it go. “Whatever. Ladies, I’ve got to split. I’ve got to get up in—shit—four hours. Are you going to be okay getting Princess Charlie home?”
I glanced at Charlie. He was fumbling with his pockets and attempting to get his jacket on. “Sure. His place isn’t far from here.”
“Make sure he gets through his front door this time. I’m going back to Seattle for a while, but maybe we could hook up and talk about that design next time I’m in town?”
I furrowed my brow as I tried to recall the conversation we’d had at the beginning of the evening. “You don’t live in Chicago anymore?”
Joe exchanged a glance with Charlie, and his almost permanent grin waned. “My folks live in Seattle. We’ve got some family stuff going on. I’m giving up my place here for a while.”
I was missing something, but it wasn’t my place to pry. I didn’t really know Joe. What went on in his personal life was none of my business. “Get my number from Charlie, and call me when you’re back. I can help you figure something out.”
“Trust me, I’ll be calling you. I’ve got friends who’ll freak when they know I’m getting your ink.”
“Hmm?”
Beside me, Charlie chuckled. “You’re wasting your time with Ash, man. He hasn’t got a clue how awesome he is.”
Joe clapped me on the back. “Fair enough, but, dude, you work for Ted Finnegan. Everyone in Lincoln Park knows you’re the shit.”
He punched my shoulder and left, but with Charlie happily unsteady on his feet, it was a while before I got him ready to go.
I kept a firm grasp on Charlie’s jacket as I followed him out of the bar. Keeping him upright required all my attention, and I’d pretty much forgotten about my quasi-Pete hallucination until Charlie stumbled. I lurched forward to catch him. A steady hand grasped my hip.
“Easy, fucker.”
I whirled around to find Pete behind me with a beer in his hand. The mile-wide grin on his face told me he was more than a little bit buzzed. I grinned back, the weird disappointment I’d felt when I thought I’d imagined him fading fast. “I thought you were working?”
Pete shrugged and offered me his beer. “The bus broke down and they couldn’t find another one. Shame, huh?”
I laughed, lifting the bottle to my lips. “If you say so. You look pretty happy to me.”
“I am.”
I gazed at him, and he gazed right back. For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I was probably even drunker than him, but there was no
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