I Belong With You

by Ashelyn Drake

  I make the snap decision to change my clothes and head to Last Call. My intuition was right. I need to date someone else and get over this insane infatuation I have with Emily. It’s the only way to save my pride.

  The bar is crowded by the time I arrive at nine. Lonnie is bartending, which means the bar is surrounded by men in their twenties and thirties trying to flirt with her. I feel sorry for the woman. She’s about twenty-five, if I had to guess. And completely gorgeous with her long, blonde hair and green eyes. Anyone with a pulse would find her attractive.

  I walk up to the end of the bar and wait patiently for her to notice me. She finally does about five minutes later.

  “Sorry for the wait. It’s crazy in here tonight,” she says.

  “No problem. That means good tips for you, right?”

  “The tips here are always great.”

  I don’t doubt it. These guys are leaving large tips in the hopes of gaining her interest.

  “What can I get for you?” she asks.

  I almost order an Amstel, but at the last minute I change my mind. “I’ll take whatever porter you have on tap.”

  “You got it.”

  She pours my drink, and a guy sitting by the tap reaches out and grabs her arm. “How about doing a round of shots with me, sweetheart?” he says.

  Maybe it’s the look in his eye or the way his fingers are gripping Lonnie’s arm, but I walk over to him, pushing my way through people, and stick my face in his. “Take your hand off her,” I say.

  He does, but his face turns red with rage. “Who the hell are you?” he asks.

  “Her friend. And if I see you touch her one more time, I’ll make sure you never set foot in this establishment again. You got it?”

  “If she didn’t want this kind of attention, she wouldn’t work in a bar. Don’t delude yourself into thinking she’s anything more than a good time.” He slaps a twenty on the bar and storms out.

  I take the stool he was formerly occupying, and Lonnie places my drink in front of me. “On the house. And thank you for that. That creep has been in here every night this week. Whenever I try to point him out to Caleb, the guy seems to disappear.”

  “Next time you see him come in, alert Caleb or one of the other guys here immediately. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

  She leans her arms on the bar top, and I can’t stop myself from gazing at her chest, which is popping out of the top of her shirt. I quickly look up again. “What’s your name?” she asks.

  “David.”

  She holds her hand out. “Lonnie. It’s nice to meet you.”

  I don’t tell her everyone in the bar already knows her name. I’m not sure if she’d be flattered by that after her recent encounter with that touchy-feely asshole.

  “You hungry, David? The kitchen is still open.” She motions over her shoulder to the kitchen.

  “Actually, yes. I haven’t eaten.”

  “How about a cheesesteak with all the toppings?” she asks.

  “How did you know I like cheesesteaks?”

  “It’s a gift.” She winks at me and disappears inside the kitchen to place my order.

  “What’s your secret?” the guy on my left asks. He’s probably in his forties and has a receding hairline.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, not sure what he’s talking about.

  “I think she likes you.” He nods at Lonnie as she comes walking back to the bar.

  “Nah. I just helped her out. I’m sure she’s nice to everyone. It’s part of her job, right?” I sip my porter.

  “Yeah, but that’s your first beer and it’s on the house. She also winked at you. Lonnie doesn’t flirt with the men at the bar. She’s nice enough, sure. But she doesn’t flirt. I think she’s afraid of a bunch of drunken men getting the wrong idea.”

  “Do you blame her?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Nope, can’t say I do. Most of the guys in here are total assholes, like the one you drove off.”

  I look up to see Lonnie staring at me. She smiles and blushes before looking away. Maybe this guy is right. Maybe Lonnie does have a thing for me.

  “See?” he says. “You should ask her out.”

  “I’m sure she gets asked out all the time.”

  “Worried you’ll look like the rest of us trying to score dates with her?” He finishes his beer and puts a ten-dollar bill on top of the glass. “Trust me, you’ll kick yourself later if you don’t at least try.” He claps his hand on my shoulder and walks away.

  Lonnie brings me my cheesesteak a few minutes later and sticks around to talk. “So, what are you doing alone on a Friday night? A guy like you must have a girlfriend.”

  “None to speak of. I had no plans at all tonight and thought sitting home alone was worse than drinking away my sorrows.” I raise my glass to her and then take a sip.

  “Recent breakup?” she asks.

  “You are good. Is that a bartender thing?”

  She hitches a shoulder. “I’ve always been very good at reading people. So how long ago did you two break up?”

  “I’m not sure if we were ever truly dating in her mind, but it’s been a little while.”

  “Still pining over her?”

  “I’m not sure I’d put it in those exact words. More like wondering what I did wrong.”

  She pours me another draft and places it on the bar. “What makes you think you did anything wrong?”

  She’s right. I didn’t do anything wrong. Caring about someone can’t be wrong. “I don’t think I did.” I laugh. “Thanks for that.”

  “I’m not working tomorrow night,” she says. “Do you maybe want to grab a bite to eat, somewhere that’s not a bar?”

  She’s asking me out. I’m not used to being the one being pursued, and I have to admit I like how it feels. “Sure. I’d like that.”

  “Great.” She reaches for my phone, which is next to my plate on the bar. “May I?”

  I nod, and she picks it up. She types her number in, clicks a selfie, and then turns the screen to me so I can see the contact she created for herself.

  “I should get back to serving my other customers before my tip meter goes down any further. Call me, though.” She smiles and walks to the other end of the bar.

  I finish my cheesesteak, and for the first time in weeks, I’m excited by the idea of dating someone who isn’t Emily. I swivel around on the barstool, needing to use the restroom, when I spot Emily and that guy Sebastian in the back corner of the bar. I thought things between them were over, but I guess that was stupid of me. Seeing him with another woman must not have turned her away. Especially after we were assigned that column topic and she nearly melted down at having to give advice on committing to one person. Dating Sebastian must feel safer than ever in her mind.

  I decide to pay my bill and leave, not wanting to chance running into Emily and having her think I’m following her on her date. It’s one thing to show up in the same place once, but twice will make me look like I’m stalking her, and I’m definitely not. I flag down Lonnie.

  “You leaving already?” she asks me.

  “Yeah, can I get my tab?”

  “You didn’t hear? Cheesesteaks are free when you bail out the bartender.” She smiles.

  “Okay, then you have to let me pay for dinner tomorrow night to make up for it.”

  “Deal.” Her smile widens. “You have my number.” She picks up my empty plate and glass.

  I place a ten on the bar for a tip. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  I walk out of Last Call without glancing back in Emily’s direction. Maybe this is exactly what I need to move on. Lonnie seems like a nice enough woman. I can’t deny she’s beautiful either. I head home, not worried about any tension between Emily and me. Now that I can tell her I’m going out with Lonnie, Emily might revert back to her usual self around me. And maybe we’ll both be able to move on.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emily

  Tara and I run around the park path for the third t
ime when she finally asks, “Why are you so quiet today?” We always talk just as much as we jog, but my morning threw me off.

  “David told me he has a date tonight,” I tell her.

  She turns her head to look at me. “Isn’t that a good thing? You want him to move on so things can go back to normal.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re jealous!” She shoves my shoulder, nearly pushing me into a walker on the edge of the path.

  “Sorry,” I tell the woman before glaring at Tara. “Thanks a lot. I almost took out the speed walker because of you.”

  “Eh, speed walking is stupid anyway. Either walk or jog. There shouldn’t be an in-between.”

  I laugh, and we pick up the pace to get around a group of walkers.

  “I stand by what I said. You’re totally jealous. Who is this woman, anyway?”

  “Lonnie.”

  “That gorgeous bartender at Last Call?” She sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. “Ouch. You’re doomed. She’s so hot I’d date her, and I’m not even gay.”

  “Stop it.” I laugh, knowing she was aiming for that. But she’s right. Lonnie is much prettier than I am. She always draws the attention of every man at the bar. I can’t compete with her. Not when I’m pushing David away and avoiding him whenever possible.

  “So why are you so upset, then? Are you ready to admit you still want to be with him?”

  “If I thought I could be with him without hurting him, I’d do it in a second. You know that. But we both also know that he cares way too much about me to keep things casual.” I decide to fill her in on the column I still haven’t written.

  “So he told that woman to talk to the guy, yet he never asked you why you won’t commit to him?” She jumps when a squirrel runs out onto the path right in front of her.

  “My nut-loving friend obviously doesn’t think you should be making me have this conversation,” I say.

  “You did not just say your ‘nut-loving friend.’ And FYI, you brought up the column.”

  She’s right. I don’t know why I’m being sensitive about it. I need to talk to someone, and clearly, I can’t talk to David.

  “I don’t know what to do. I’m avoiding my job because of him. Maybe I should find a new apartment.” I lower my head, keeping my gaze on the path in front of me.

  “Why?” she asks. “If he’s dating Lonnie, I’m sure he’ll fall madly in love with her, and then he’ll be giving you the boot just like Sharonda did. By the way, have you spoken to her since you moved out?”

  “No. She’s busy with wedding plans. It wasn’t like we were very close anyway. I was her younger sister’s friend, not hers.” Still, I would have thought she’d have checked in to see if I liked my new place.

  “Maybe she turned into a bridezilla. You may have dodged a bullet there. Imagine if you were still living there while she was going crazy over centerpieces and dresses.”

  No thank you. I don’t plan to get married. Ever. And I don’t really want to be in anyone’s wedding either. Maybe that’s why I can’t write this column. I can’t tell someone to pursue something I don’t believe in. Maybe it has nothing to do with David at all.

  We run another two laps around the park while Tara fills me in on things at work. She’s teaching two more classes at the fitness center, which leaves less time to hang out with me, but she’s not complaining too much since the extra money is good. We jog back to our cars, and I open mine to retrieve my water bottle. I take a few healthy sips before doing some stretches to work out the kinks in my muscles.

  “I think we were faster today,” Tara says.

  “Nah. We just looked faster since there were so many speed walkers.” I smirk, knowing the comment will set her off.

  “Don’t get me started on that again.” She finishes her water and tosses the bottle in the recycling bin in the parking lot. “What are you doing tonight? Are you seeing Sebastian?”

  “No. He said he had plans already. I’m assuming he’s seeing that girl from the mini golf place.”

  “Doesn’t it weird you out that you’re sleeping with a man who is probably sleeping with someone else at the same time?”

  I look down at my sneakers. “I haven’t had sex with him. We’ve only kissed.”

  “No wonder he’s not going out with you two nights in a row.”

  “Very funny.” I roll my eyes, but in truth, she’s probably right. A man as gorgeous and recognizable as Sebastian must have women throwing themselves at him. He probably keeps me around because I’m the only challenge in his life. Maybe he’s trying to get me in bed and then plans to dump me after that. Challenge met.

  “Hey, sorry if I offended you. I was only joking,” Tara says. She rubs my arm. “You look like you just saw a duck get run over by an SUV, and believe me, that’s not pretty. I’ve witnessed it.”

  “Ew,” I say. “And speaking of ew, I’m sure we both stink. It’s hot as hell out today.”

  “This is why I said we should run earlier in the day.”

  “Call me later if you don’t wind up going out,” I tell her.

  “As if I’d go out without you.” She shakes her head. “Go write that column. Don’t let your messed-up love life affect your job. You’ve got a good thing going with that paper.”

  I do. I wave and get in the car. On the drive home, I come to a realization about the column. David and I are expected to disagree on the letters. If he told the woman to talk to her man, then I need to tell her the opposite. It doesn’t have to be what I really think she should do. It’s more about writing what will gain readers. I’m not supposed to be the voice of reason. That’s David’s role. So it’s time I embrace the shock value I know I can produce.

  By the time I shower and get dressed, I’m ready to write and am feeling a lot better about everything. David is eating a late lunch on the couch when I join him in the living room.

  “Hey, mind if I steal your laptop and write my half of that column?” I ask him.

  “Go right ahead.” He motions to it on the coffee table. “How was your run with Tara?”

  I sit down, pulling the laptop onto my lap. “Good, other than me almost colliding with a middle-aged power walker and Tara nearly trampling a squirrel.”

  He laughs. “You two are dangerous together. Remind me never to go running with you.”

  “Will do.”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he says, and I know he’s referring to the line I fed him this morning about waking up feeling sick from the pizza grease Friday morning.

  “Yeah, all good. I’m going to write this column and maybe go out tonight. Or maybe I’ll stay in and take a long bath since you’ll be on your date.” I didn’t have a bathtub in my last apartment, and the thought of relaxing in the hot water and reading a good book is very appealing.

  “Go right ahead. I never use the tub, and someone should.”

  “Where are you and Lonnie going?” I ask, clicking on the desktop file labeled Looking for a Commitment.

  “Not sure yet. I’m going to call her in a little bit and see where she wants to go.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?” I look up at him briefly.

  “Sure.” His brow furrows, and I wonder if I’m pushing it by offering him advice for his date.

  “Have a place in mind to suggest. You don’t want her to think you’re indecisive or worse, didn’t put any thought into the date.”

  He nods. “I’ll do that. So, you hanging out with Sebastian this weekend?”

  “I doubt it. We had lunch on Friday.” I realize my slipup too late.

  David’s brow furrows. “Friday? Did he come here with soup or something?”

  Crap. “Actually, I decided to go for a walk to get some fresh air. When I walked by the café on Main Street my stomach started rumbling. I figured I should eat, and Sebastian and I ran into each other there.”

  David nods. “I saw the to-go container in the fridge. I figured you must have felt better.”

  �
�You know me. I don’t cook,” I say with a forced laugh.

  “I just thought you would have ordered in, but the fresh air probably did you good.”

  “Yeah, that and the vitamin D.” I’m rambling now, completely uncomfortable.

  David stands up, taking his empty lunch plate with him. “Well, I should let you write. I’m going to take a shower and figure out where to take Lonnie on our date.”

  “Enjoy,” I say, directing my attention to the file on the screen. I wait until I hear the bathroom door close before I exhale long and hard. Then I pour my thoughts into the column.

  Dear Looking for a Commitment,

  Nothing kills a relationship faster than one person asking the other to commit. You can’t force these things. Feelings should develop naturally. If you go asking this guy to make a commitment, he’s going to feel pressured into it, which is going to result in one of two things. He’ll either run away screaming and you’ll never see him again. Or he’ll suck it up, commit to you, and then resent you for it, which will only make both of you miserable in the long run. Stop putting pressure on the relationship, and let it run its own course.

  Emily

  Satisfied that I’ve fulfilled my position as yin to David’s yang, I save the file and put the laptop back on the coffee table. I spend the next few hours cleaning the apartment, determined to uphold my end of the roommate relationship. David winds up cooking for me or paying for takeout most nights, so I have no problem cleaning. I find it therapeutic in a way. I put my earbuds in, click on my playlist, and start vacuuming the apartment. Before long, I’m singing along and dancing as I vacuum. The chorus comes on, and I close my eyes as I belt out the lyrics. I fumble in front of me, pushing open David’s door, which is ajar. Except I collide with David instead, running over his bare toes with the vacuum.