I’m going to encourage that along, and I know just how to do it.
My game won’t be nearly as satisfying if they work together. He needs to be livid.
She needs to be weak and broken, fragile even.
Then my game will be ready to be played.
FOUR
“Let me buy you a drink, beautiful girl.”
I stare at the attractive man standing beside me at the bar, eyes on mine, smile planted on his perfect face. I’m in here sulking. It’s been a week since I saw Noah last and I feel worse with every passing second. I don’t want to admit that a small part of me liked seeing him so much after three months of not seeing him at all. So I’m in here, trying to drink my sorrows away. So far, it’s not working.
“Me?” I ask, sure he must be talking to someone else.
I look like a wreck. Hair in a messy bun. No makeup. Faded halter top and jeans. “Yes, you. You’re alone, it looks like you could use some company.”
“Oh,” I laugh softly. “I’m waiting for a friend.”
That’s not a lie. Rachel promised she’d meet me after she finished work.
“Then you have time to let me buy you a drink. I promise I don’t bite.”
He smiles, a genuine, warm smile, and it feels nice to have someone looking at me like that again. Someone who doesn’t know me. So I do what I wouldn’t usually do.
“Okay,” I say softly. “Vodka and soda, please.”
“As you wish.”
He orders the drinks and turns to me while they’re being made. “What’s your name, beautiful girl?”
I touch my hair self-consciously. “Lara.”
“I love a woman who’s naturally gorgeous.” His eyes twinkle. “I’m Marco, but you can call me Marc.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Marc.”
The bartender slides us our drinks, and Marco hands mine to me. “What are you doing alone here on a Friday night?”
I shrug, nervously sipping my drink. It’s been a while since I’ve been chatted up by a stranger, and I feel incredibly awkward.
“My friend and I meet here every Friday night,” I tell him, taking another sip.
“Why here?”
I shrug again. “We met here.”
“Ah, I see. What do you do for a living?”
I stare at him. He’s so open, so comfortable in his own skin. He should be, too. He looks like a Greek god. He’s got dark hair, dark-brown eyes, and olive skin. His body is muscled but lean. He holds himself well; he oozes confidence.
“I’m a receptionist,” I say. “Nothing too fancy.”
“I hear they have the hardest job?”
I laugh softly. “Yeah, I would say I do sometimes. What about you, what do you do?”
“I work for a shipping company. Nothing spectacular.”
“Have you lived here long?”
“All my life.”
We ease into an easy conversation about his personal history, his family, and his work. He asks me questions and the more drinks I have, the more at ease I feel talking to him. When I realize Rachel hasn’t arrived, I pull out my cell and excuse myself, dialing her number. She doesn’t answer. That’s odd. She would let me know if she couldn’t make it, and so far she’s well over an hour late.
I go back to Marco after shooting her a quick text, and he’s gotten me a fresh drink. “Would it be too forward if I asked you to join me for something to eat?”
I study him.
He wants to take me out?
I haven’t been out with anyone since Noah. I haven’t wanted to. Going out with someone else might be nice, possibly even good for me. I’ve held on to a love that I can’t trust for the last few months. Maybe it’s time to let that go. To let him go. The thought of really releasing Noah from my life hurts more than I’m willing to admit, especially considering I hurt him last time we were together. Maybe we are both better off without each other. Why does that thought kill me inside? I push down the pain and smile. “Sure, I’d like that.”
“Well, finish up the drink and we’ll go for a walk. There are some great places around here.”
I do as he requests, finishing my drink. Then I grab my coat off the chair and check my phone as we exit the bar. Still nothing from Rachel. Odd. Maybe she got held up at work, or stuck in a meeting where she can’t answer the phone. I fall into step beside Marco and we walk across the road toward the park I usually go jogging past.
“Do you live around here?” Marco asks as we near the trees.
“Yes, just a few blocks up.”
“Any suggestions for a good eating spot?”
My head feels a little light. Surely the alcohol isn’t affecting me this heavily so soon?
“There’s a great little café through these trees and out the other side, closer to the city.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We move into the trees, small lamps lighting the path we walk down. I stumble a little, which is odd. I really didn’t think I had that much to drink. Still, I laugh at Marco’s jokes and talk freely with him, all my inhibitions seeming to have flown out the door. We’re near the middle of the thick trees when Marco stops and turns to me.
“It’s nice in here, isn’t it?”
I turn, stumbling a little and facing him. My head feels so light I actually lift my hand and make sure it’s still there, then laugh hysterically because of course it’s still there. I try to focus on Marco, but he’s blurring in and out. Have I been drugged? Is that what’s happening? God, did Marco drug me?
“I know it sounds forward, but I’d really love to kiss you,” Marco murmurs, cupping my face and moving toward me.
His lips touch mine and I don’t even try to pull back, not because I don’t want to, but because my body just doesn’t seem to want to play the game. I reach up, curling my fingers around his biceps, to push him away, but I seem weaker than usual. His kiss gets more intense, and I can’t seem to find the strength to argue.
I hate it. After kissing Noah, no man could ever compare.
The lightness in my head has moved over my whole body and I feel like I’m flying. My knees wobble, but Marco holds me up with an arm around my waist, kissing me deeper. He’s getting a little too intense now.
“Seriously?”
The voice seems almost distant, but I recognize it instantly. Noah.
“Let her go or I’ll make you,” Noah warns.
“Hey, man,” Marco says, pulling back from me but keeping his arm around me. “Don’t know who you are, but this is my girl.”
His girl? Wait, what?
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Noah barks, looking to me. “Lara, what the fuck?”
This whole scene feels incredibly confusing. Why is Noah here? Am I dreaming this whole thing?
As I try to make sense of it all, I curl an arm around Marco’s middle to try to hold myself up.
“So that’s how it is, huh, Lara?” he spits out. I open my mouth to reply but can’t seem to form any words.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Noah shakes his head. “I thought we had a chance, but now I see how stupid I’ve been. It’s really over.”