“In five minutes, if she doesn’t have a drink, will you please get her whatever girly drink is popular right now and put it on my tab? But don’t tell her it’s from me.”
“Of course. Sister?” the woman asked with hope.
I shut her down real fast when I replied, “Girlfriend.”
She walked away, glancing over her shoulder at me in confusion… twice… before pushing through the doors to the kitchen. She returned quickly with my water, and I sat at my table in the dim light, tracing the woodgrain lines of the tabletop. Looking down at my outstretched arm, I focused on the mountain landscape that wrapped around my forearm. A world-renowned tattoo artist etched the intricate details into my skin. She added everything in the design that I requested, even some hidden features that only I knew existed.
When my phone showed that five minutes passed, I glanced up to the bar to find a bored Aspen swirling a straw around in her soda glass. The server I’d spoken to earlier slipped behind the counter and prepared a drink, then handed it over to her with a smile. Aspen looked up to ask her who sent the beverage, but the server only shrugged.
Looking to her left and right, Aspen caught the eye of a table of young guys, and she smiled sweetly at them.
I knew then that I could never tell her I was the one who sent the drink.
After twenty minutes passed and Aspen finished her drink, I asked for the check from the waitress, who informed me there was no bill for the water. When I asked her about the drink, she confessed another patron ordered the one she served to my girlfriend.
Instead of feeling pride for her accomplishing her first task, I felt… jealousy. Didn’t they know she was here with me?
My chair scraped loudly as I stood from the table, grabbing Aspen’s attention, then she slid off her stool, wearing the brightest smile I’d ever seen.
Fuck, I couldn’t even be mad, because I’d do anything to make her smile like that again.
She waved at the group of guys as she made her way toward me, but her eyes never left mine, and when she reached out her hand to me, I took it without a second thought.
“I did it, Owen! At first, I thought you may have sent the drink to boost my courage, but then I realized you would have ordered me a beer.”
She was right. I remembered that was what she was drinking last weekend. But that would’ve only happened if I ordered the drink on my behalf. A cocktail could’ve been from anyone else.
“I’m really proud of you, cricket,” I said as I held the car door open for her, just as the suits from Saturday exited a brick building down the block.
They stole her attention immediately, and she stiffened next to me. The men were chatting, but the short one quickly noticed the car and then me. My fan gestured to his friends, and all their eyes turned toward us.
“I’m going to kiss you, Aspen.”
“What?” she whispered.
“Just play along, okay?”
“Okay.”
I cupped her face and twisted it toward mine, and I brushed my lips against hers. She opened up hesitantly, and my tongue dipped inside, tasting the sweetness from her drink.
The kiss didn’t linger, and I pulled back with a grin. Her smile matched mine, and I ran my thumb along her bottom lip.
“That okay?”
“Mmhmm,” she replied, as if in a daze.
A car horn sounded from down the road, bringing Aspen and me back into the moment. She immediately sank down into the car, then I shut the door and moved around to the driver side.
I was thankful for the interruption, because I could have stood there kissing her sweet lips for hours if she would’ve let me.
Soon, we were driving down the alleyway toward a warehouse-looking building in town. I looked up the old place and saw a young couple bought it and were working to fix it up. They already restored the old signs and woodwork.
I’d never tell Aspen, but I was a little excited to check it out. When I lived here, the place was too derelict to ever visit and was never open. Though I did recall one hell of a party taking place in the building, before it was broken up by the cops.
“We’re going bowling?” Aspen asked as I pulled into the lot. It looked completely different from what I remembered. Fresh paint. A new retro sign. Neon lights. The couple who bought it dropped some serious cash.
“We are. And you can play one-handed. Have you been here since it reopened three years ago?”
Her energy never wavered as she told me that I already knew the answer. It was clear she wasn’t exaggerating when she said she didn’t get out much.
The timing was perfect, because as my phone switched to 7:00 p.m., Jenna’s car pulled in beside mine with her date, Derek, in the passenger seat.
“You invited Jenna?” Aspen asked, leaning across the center console, gripping my forearm with her injured arm’s hand, and waving to her friend with the other.
“I did. I thought a double date would be a good way to get the relationship rumor mill going. If we can convince Jenna, then we can convince everyone else.”
“Good idea,” she said, smiling up at me before sitting back in her seat.
Exiting the car, I walked around to the other side and helped her out of her seat. The two women hugged, and then we walked inside.
I didn’t spend a lot of time lingering on the looks of the place as I paid for a lane and the rental shoes. Bowling wasn’t a sport I excelled at, but I had fun either way. And that was the point of our date tonight.
Derek and I chatted as we ordered some food for our lane, along with a pitcher of beer. I wouldn’t drink more than one or two glasses, since I was driving and under advisement from my coach to keep up my training regimen.
The girls giggled as they tied their clownish-looking shoes, but I had to admit these weren’t as hideous as some of the ones I’d seen on television or in the movies.
We played a few practice rounds, Aspen nearly releasing her ball behind her twice. And that was with her good arm—the right one, and she was righthanded. She confessed to never having bowled before, and it showed, but as we all teased her, she laughed, knowing it was all in good fun. I wanted her to see that a date could be something amusing and spontaneous. Even if it was something new, she didn’t have to be so apprehensive. Not all dates had to be formal and serious.
