Even if Lina wasn’t with Knox, he’d dumped me. I didn’t need to concern myself with competition.
I ran my finger around the rim of my glass. “What happened to his face?”
She pointed an index finger at me. “Fear. I’ve known that man since he was barely a man, and I’ve never seen him scared. But I saw fear when he watched you walk away.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to hear that. I didn’t want to pretend that there was hope where there was none. “I don’t know why he’d be afraid of me walking away. He’s the one who already did the walking.”
“Let me guess. It wasn’t you. It was him. He doesn’t do relationships or complications or responsibilities. There’s no future, and he’s letting you go so you can get on with yours.”
I blinked. “You do know him.”
“I’ll have you know I hold the impressive title of first official non-girlfriend, thank you very much. It was my junior year in college. He was twenty-four. We met at a party, and it lasted four glorious, hormone- and hangover-filled weeks before the idiot got cold feet and handed me my walking papers.”
“Judging by your greeting, I’m guessing things ended better for you than they did for me.”
Lina smiled and took a sip of scotch. “He underestimated my stubbornness. See, I could do without him as a boyfriend. But I wanted to keep him around as a friend. So I forced him into a friendship. We talk every couple of months. Before he hit that lottery, we’d meet up every couple of years. Always someplace neutral. We’d play wingman for each other.”
I downed the wine in three big gulps. Before I even put the glass down on the bar, another one arrived.
“Thanks, Joel.” I traded the empty glass for the full one. “What’s his problem, anyway?”
Lina snorted and sipped again. “What’s anyone’s problem? Baggage. People meet, sparks fly, then they spend all their time trying to hide who they really are so they can stay attractive. Then we’re surprised when it doesn’t work out.”
She had a point.
“If everyone just introduced themselves with their baggage, imagine how much time we’d save. Hi, I’m Lina. I have daddy issues and a jealous streak combined with a temper that means you should never cross me. Also, I’ve been known to eat an entire tray of brownies in one sitting and I never fold laundry.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Your turn,” she said.
“Hi, Lina. I’m Naomi and I keep falling for guys who don’t see a future with me. But I keep hoping the future I’m envisioning for the both of us will be good enough to keep them around. Also, I hate my twin sister, and it makes me feel like a bad person. Oh, and Knox Morgan ruined orgasms for me for the rest of my life.”
It was Lina’s turn to laugh. Another scotch appeared in front of her. “This guy knows what’s up,” she said, pointing to our bartender friend.
“Two ladies come into this place talking about the same man, and Imma keep the drinks coming,” he assured us.
“Joel, you’re a true gentleman,” Lina said.
The front door burst open, and Sloane appeared. She was makeup-free and wearing knockoff Uggs, leggings, and an oversize Virginia Tech football jersey. Her hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder.
“You must be the new trollop,” Sloane said.
“And you must be the cavalry coming to save Princess Naomi from the She Beast,” Lina guessed.
I snorted into my wine. “Sloane, this is Lina. Lina is the original Knox ex-girlfriend. Sloane is an overprotective librarian with great hair.” I pointed down the bar. “And that’s Joel our silver fox bartender.”
Sloane took the stool next to me, and before her butt had gotten comfortable, Joel appeared. “You date the same guy too?” he asked.
She rested her chin in her hand. “No, Joel, I did not. I’m just here for moral support.”
“You wanna drink while you morally support?”
“Sure do. How’s your Bloody Mary?”
“Spicy as fuck.”
“I’ll take a Bloody Mary and a round of Fireball.”
Joel saluted and wandered off to make the drinks.
One of the men at the pool table closest to us ambled over. He had impressive spikes on the shoulders of his vest and a Fu Manchu to write home about. “Buy you bitches a drink?”
We swiveled on our stools as one.
“No, thank you,” I said.
“Fuck off,” Lina replied with a mean smile.
“If you think referring to us as ‘bitches’ is going to get you invited into the conversation, let alone one of our beds, you’re about to be deeply disappointed,” Sloane said.
“Move along, Reaper,” Joel told him without looking up from the quart of vodka he was pouring into Sloane’s glass.
My phone buzzed on the bar, and I glanced down.
Knox: That wasn’t what it looked like. I’m not seeing Lina.
Knox: Not that it’s any of your business.
Knox: Fuck. At least text me back and tell me where you are.
For someone who was done with me, he sure texted a whole heck of a lot.
Naomi: It’s this awesome place called None of Your Business. Stop. Texting. Me.
I slid my phone over to Sloane. “Here. You’re in charge of this.”
Lina held up her phone to show us a text.
Knox: Where the fuck did you take her?
“See?” she said. “Fear.”
“I don’t think I’m going back to work today,” I said.
“Hey, Waylay’s hanging out at the museum in D.C. with Nina and her dads. There’s no better way to spend a fall Saturday than getting blitzed.”
“What’s a Waylay?” Lina asked.
“My niece.”
“The niece Naomi didn’t know about because her estranged twin sister sucks,” Sloane added. She twirled the tip of her braid around her fingers and stared blankly at the football game on the screen.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“I’m fine. I’m just sick of men.”
“Amen, sister,” I said, raising my glass at her.
“My sister, Chloe’s mom? She’s bi. Every time she dates a man who pisses her off, she ends up dating nothing but women for like twelve months. She’s my hero. Makes me wish I didn’t like penis so much.”
Joel set a Bloody Mary with a floating stick of bacon in front of Sloane and didn’t bat an eye at the word penis.
I winced. “Please don’t say penis.”
“My experience with Knox’s equipment is almost twenty years old. So I can only imagine how much better he’s gotten with age,” Lina said with sympathy.
“You know, with this whole guardianship, maybe it’s just better to focus on being a parent figure and forget about being a woman with…”
“Sexual needs?” Sloane filled in.
I picked up my wine. “How many glasses would it take to forget about sex?”
“Usually around one and a half bottles. But that comes with a hangover that cuts you off at the knees for three days, so I wouldn’t recommend,” Lina said.
“He really made me believe,” I whispered.
Joel lined up the shots in front of us, and I stared at mine.
“I know he said things wouldn’t go anywhere. But he made me believe. He kept showing up. Not just for me, but for Waylay too.”
“Back the truck up. Knox Morgan? Spent time with your kid? Willingly?”