But I wanted it.
So listening to possibly the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on pining about a woman, who might be my friend, but who already had her own hot guy (she just hadn’t accepted that…yet), was not something I was up for.
But Ren didn’t do that.
As the beer and bourbon flowed, we both got talkative.
I noticed a few things right off.
He was not a lightweight. He could totally hold his liquor (like me). Which, you think it’s right or wrong, I thought was hot. It was an indication he enjoyed life however he wanted, like me.
This didn’t mean we weren’t feeling easy, and getting to feel easier. But it wasn’t leading to loaded, which led to sloppy, stupid and unattractive.
And once the event was put behind us, he didn’t once bring up Ava or Luke.
He asked about me.
And he sounded interested.
And last, along with being hot, in a hot guy way that was totally cool, he was funny.
So in the end, it was almost like a date.
A good one.
Maybe even the best I’d ever had.
And it got better when we got to know each other, got more comfortable, and the questions became more meaningful. The banter became teasing. Then suggestive teasing. Then the physical distance evaporated when Ren slid closer to me in the booth seat, pinning me against the corner. Something I was wishing he’d do, and he did.
But it was more. In doing this, focusing his attention solely on me, he made the bar melt away and made me feel like I was the center of his universe.
I’d never felt that.
But I bet Indy, Jet, Roxie and Jules had.
And none of it was about booze and earlier emotional upheaval.
It was about connecting.
Ava and Luke and what happened that night drifted away, and it was about Ren getting to know me and me returning the favor.
And enjoying every second of it.
The end of it went like this:
“You have to give me a minute,” I told him, “I’m having trouble fighting the urge to run shrieking from the bar.”
He grinned. I watched it and I liked it.
“Babe, not a crime to be a Bears fan.”
“Zano, totally a crime to be a native Denverite and be a Bears fan,” I contradicted with the God’s honest truth.
His arm was on the back of the booth and suddenly his fingers glided through my hair, sliding it off my shoulder, then moving away; a smooth there-and-gone-making-you-want-more move that worked on me huge.
“Lived in Chicago a long time after my dad died,” he said after the smooth move, and at his words, I focused through my buzz closer on him. “Mom couldn’t deal, moved us back to her hometown to be closer to her sister and cousins. I was there from three to thirteen. I was born here, Ally, but bred to be a Bears fan.”
Well, if there was a reason to dis the Broncs, that was it.
But what he shared was deep. It felt good he trusted that little bit to me and so it couldn’t be ignored.
“Sorry about your dad,” I said softly.
Something I didn’t get moved through his face before he said, “Long time ago.”
I found that an interesting response.
“Indy lost her mom when she was five. I was five when we lost her, too. Auntie Katie was around all the time, so she was like a second mom to me.” I reached out a hand and curled it around his thigh. “I know when people try to understand where you are, they can’t understand because they’re not you. But even so, even though I don’t get you, I still kinda do.”
It was then something moved into his eyes, stayed there, and I got that. It was a mixture of sweet and heat that I liked a whole lot.
His hand covered mine on his thigh and he murmured, “Thanks, honey.”
“And, not to be flippant about the death of a parent,” I started in order to move us to less deep, melancholy waters. “But I will say it does provide you with an acceptable pass on being a Bears fan in Broncos Country.”
That got me another grin.
Then his eyes locked to mine and he asked, “Your brothers, your family, I’m thinkin’ you know me.”
