Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology)

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  “I’m not doing that to him. I’ll make something.” I bent down to find a pan. One of the few things I made well were omelets, and I knew we had tons of eggs.

  My phone rang, and I didn’t even think about answering it.

  “It’s him.” Macon held up my phone.

  “Good for him.”

  Macon smiled. “On the positive side, he finally noticed you were gone.”

  “It only took him an hour and a half.”

  “Actually, if it had already been more than an hour when you called me, we’re closer to two hours.”

  “Really helpful.”

  “I know I am.” Macon smirked.

  I’d cracked enough eggs to make two omelets when I heard the text notification on my phone.

  Macon cleared his throat, and I knew he was about to read the text. “I know you’re mad, but please at least tell me you’re okay. Did you get a ride home?”

  “Tell him I’m home.” I was glad Macon had my phone. I probably would have typed something far less polite.

  Macon laughed, and I changed my mind.

  “What did you say?”

  “I’m home. Lucky for me, not all the men in my life keep me waiting more than an hour.”

  “You didn’t!” I yanked my phone from his hand. Macon’s words stared back at me. “Oh no. Come on, Macon. He already thinks there’s something between us.”

  Sure enough, I got another text. Macon? You called him to drive you home?

  “What happened to him not being worth it?”

  “I still don’t want him getting the wrong idea.” Yes. I called my friend when I realized you weren’t coming back.

  Did you listen to my voicemail?

  No.

  I’m sorry. It was a really important call. Any chance I can come over there?

  No.

  Please. I don’t want to go to sleep like this.

  You could have gone to sleep in a very different state.

  I had to take the call, but I’m sorry. How can I make it better?

  You can’t.

  Don’t be like this.

  You left me waiting for more than an hour. You could have at least stopped in to check on me.

  Macon read the phone display from over my shoulder. “Check on you? What are you six?”

  “You know what I meant.”

  It all moved so fast. I finally finished and you were gone.

  I waited as long as I could.

  “What the hell?” Brody stormed out of his room. “What are you two burning?”

  I looked back at the stove where my first omelet was a charred mess. “Do you have bad food sensory or something, Brody?”

  “No. I smelled smoke.” He was already dumping the remains of my meal down the disposal. “I’m guessing you had a bad night?”

  “Colin took a work call during sex and never came back,” Macon happily supplied.

  I punched his arm.

  “He picked up while you were having sex, or he stopped and then picked it up?” Brody asked.

  “Ick. He stopped first.”

  “See, it could have been worse.” Macon laughed.

  “I’m guessing that thing I threw out was supposed to be eggs of some sort.” Brody leaned back against the counter in a pair of PJ pants. “Want me to make you something?”

  “I can’t ask you to cook for me in the middle of the night.”

  “You don’t have to ask. Sorry about your night.”

  “You’re too good to me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’ll be doing my laundry for months at this rate.”

  “Wait, what? Maddy’s trading laundry services for favors?” Macon hopped up on the island.

  “You two sound awful. Make your female roommate do the laundry.”

  “I’m getting it in exchange for cooking for you. That’s not playing gender stereotypes.”

  “I guess lover boy gave up.” Macon gestured to my phone.

  “I guess so.” I couldn’t help but think he’d given up pretty easily. I didn’t want to see him, but I expected him to try harder. It was further proof he wasn’t worth it.

  I’d just settled in to my omelet—the far superior one Brody had made for me—when we heard the knock on the door.

  “I guess he didn’t give up.” Macon nodded toward the door.

  The knocking increased.

  “We have to get it before our neighbors complain.” Brody was always the rational one.

  “Fine.” I started to walk to the door.

  “Do you want to see him?” Macon asked with surprising seriousness.

  I shook my head.

  “Wait in your room.”

  I nodded, more than happy to let Macon handle Colin. The night’s events had upset me more than I would have expected. I guess it made me feel unimportant. I wanted a guy who would put me first. Maybe I had unrealistic standards, but I wasn’t ready to forgive him.

  “I need to talk to her.” Colin didn’t bother with the pleasantries. I listened through my door, but I could imagine the look of annoyance on his face that Macon was keeping him from me.

  “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “She doesn’t, or you don’t want her to?”

  Oh no. Macon wasn’t going to take this well.

  “Do you really think I’m trying to steal Maddy? Because if so, you’re delusional. If Maddy and I wanted to date, we’d be doing it. She’s my best friend, and she deserves someone who doesn’t jump to conclusions about her, and who definitely doesn’t treat her like you did tonight.”

  Wow. Macon was standing up for me. I was tempted to leave my room, but that would undermine Macon, and considering how awesome he was being, that didn’t seem like a great idea.

  “Did she tell you? Do you know what happened? I didn’t hurt her or anything. It’s okay to let me in.”

  “Didn’t hurt her? Maybe not physically…but man to man here, doing what you did hurts a girl. She’s already got an ego issue. Way to make it worse.”

  I cringed. Did Macon have to go there?

  “It was a call from work. I had to take it. I didn’t mean to hurt her ego. I don’t understand why it would.”

  “And here I thought you were smart.”

  “What? She thinks I don’t want her? That’s ridiculous. She knows how I feel about her.”

  “Dude, you walked out on her during sex.” Brody entered the conversation, and I sat down on the floor. It was only going to get worse.

  “She told you too?”

  That was it. I couldn’t just sit there. I pushed open my door. “What are you doing here, Colin?”

  “I told you on the phone. I needed to see you. I can’t go to bed in a fight with you. Especially not over something as stupid as this.”

  “Stupid?” That was all I needed to motivate me to turn around and head back to my room.

  “Maddy, wait!” Colin called, but my roommates must have stopped him. “Call me when you’re ready to talk,” he yelled before I heard the front door slam.

  I opened my door. “I’m not crazy, am I?”

  Brody answered. “Your behavior tonight wasn’t crazy, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t crazy.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Want to finish your omelet?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I think I will.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A drink needs to fit your mood. It’s no fun to drink a flirty, sexy drink when you’re depressed and sitting around in your sweats. That’s when you need the hard stuff. It’s kind of like music. I need mellow tunes when I’m down.

  I wasn’t quite at the point of drinking straight liquor by the glass, but I did find myself taking a few shots with Macon after Colin’s “episode.” That was the only way I let my roommates refer to it. I was slowly getting over what he did, but I was too stubborn to admit I missed him. Thankfully, Dale was away, and I had tons of shifts at work to keep me busy.

  “Come on, Maddy, you have to talk to me.” Colin sat directly ac
ross the bar from me. He chose his usual stool, the one that gave me no escape from those irresistible hazel eyes.

  “No, I don’t.” I turned my back to him, searching for something to make me appear busy, despite the empty bar. The thought of asking him to leave flitted through my head.

  “Is it really that big of a deal? It only happened once.”

  “Once was more than enough, but that’s not the point.”

  “Then what is the point?” He slumped slightly on his stool. “I’ve sent you flowers, come by to see you every night, even though you won’t talk to me. I’m out of ideas here.”

  “It’s the symbolism. It’s what it represents about our relationship, and how you feel about me.”

  “I’m crazy about you. Stopping short to take a phone call doesn’t change that.”

  “The fact that you could stop says it all. I’m not a priority for you.” I glanced around the dining room, relieved that the few customers were out of earshot. Mary was working, but she was keeping her distance. I appreciated the effort.

  “You’re a high priority for me, one of the highest. If you’d let me explain, I could show you how serious I am about us.”

  “Being serious is different from making me a priority.” On the surface they seemed the same, but they weren’t. Just because you cared for something didn’t mean you would be willing to put it first.

  “Have you ever been to Paris?” Colin used another one of his random conversation transitions.

  “No. The only European city I’ve been to is London.” I reorganized the liquor bottles by color. It wasn’t the most efficient organization system, but it served its purpose—keeping my hands busy so I wouldn’t give in to the urge to touch Colin.

  “Would you want to go?”

  I turned to him. “You can’t be inviting me on a Parisian vacation.”

  He smiled slightly, probably bolstered by the fact that I was looking at him. “Think less vacation and more three-month excursion.”

  The only thing that set in from his words was that he was going to be in Paris for twelve weeks. “You’re leaving?”

  “No. I’m going on a trip for work. That’s why I took the call. I knew it was my boss offering it to me. It’s what I’ve been waiting to hear about. And Maddy, I want you to come with me.”

  “I can’t,” I answered automatically.

  “Give me one reason why not.”

  “Work, my life.” Talk about putting me on the spot. “There, that’s two.”

  “Max is barely giving you shifts, and Macon will be here when we come back.”

  He said Macon’s name with distaste. Didn’t he get that Macon was rooting for him? He’d even started on the subtle hints about returning Colin’s calls.

  “I can’t afford it.” The balance on my bank account went beyond embarrassing. “And don’t even bother offering to lend me the money.”

  “Lend? Not exactly. Pay for my girlfriend’s travel expenses? Of course. Plus, our apartment will be paid for anyway.”

  “Apartment? We’re not ready to live together.” I rinsed out some glasses, needing a distraction.

  “Before this week you were spending half your nights with me already. How is this different? Besides, it’s temporary. It’s not really moving in.”

  “Temporary. This isn’t helping your priority argument.”

  He reached his hands across the bar, and I gave in and let him hold mine. The contact sent an instant wave of comfort through me. “I’m inviting you to spend three months in the most romantic city in the world with me.”

  “You don’t need me there. I’ll be in the way.”

  “Okay. Now you’re scraping the bottom of the barrel for excuses. I do need you there. And the only time you’ll be in my way is when you won’t put away your book or something.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do. This is good. So good. I’m not going to let you pass this up.”

  I tried to pull my hands away, but he didn’t release them. “It’s not your decision to make.”

  “Maybe not, but I’ll help you make yours, and it will be the right one.”

  “You can be so cocky sometimes it makes me want to scream.”

  “Glad to know I bring out the anger in you, or some might call that passion.” He squeezed my hands. I was no longer trying to move them.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “How did we even end up dating?”

  “You finally gave me a chance.” He rubbed a finger across my skin.

  “I mean, we’re so different.”

  “Why? What makes us different?”

  “For starters, you know what you want to do with your life.”

  “I’m also four years older than you. You’ll figure it out.” He released one of my hands, still comfortably holding the other.

  “What if I don’t?”

  “Isn’t this backward? Isn’t the bartender supposed to be the good listener doling out advice?”

  I let go of his hand and went back to work on the senseless organization. “We both know I’m not your typical bartender.”

  “Nothing about you is typical, and that’s one part of why I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Glad to know you like my weirdness.”

  “Not weirdness, uniqueness. That’s a different thing.”

  “I’m not giving you an answer.” I crossed my arms.

  “Wait, but that means you aren’t saying no either.” He smiled.

  “So?”

  “So, Paris aside, do you forgive me enough to continue our movie nights again tomorrow?”

  “Can I pick the movie?”

  “Don’t you always?” he teased.

  “All right. Pick me up at seven.”

  ***

  “If you’re going to fall asleep during the movie, at least let me pick something I like.” Colin kissed my forehead.

  I opened my eyes, taking a moment to remember that we were in his theater room. “Did I fall asleep?”

  “Yes. You did.”

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

  “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re here. You scared me.”

  “Scared you?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t know if I could get you back.” He put an arm around me. “That’s a scary thought for me.”

  I put my hands on either side of his face. “You mean that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I’m going to stay tonight.” I’d made up my mind about it before I left my place.

  Colin grinned. “I kind of assumed that considering you brought a tote bag full of clothes.”

  “How’d you know there were clothes in there?”

  “I may have snooped.”

  “Hey!” I swatted at his arm.

  “What? At least I don’t go through your drawers.” He gave me a meaningful yet teasing look.

  “How’d you know?” I’d thought my snooping had gone undetected. Besides, I’d been respectful.

  “I could tell.”

  “I’ll have to be more discreet next time.”

  “Next time?” He pulled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him. “Is there going to be a next time?”

  “I don’t know. Are you planning on leaving me waiting again like that?”

  “Never.”

  “Care to prove yourself?”

  “I’d love to, but I don’t want to wait until we’re upstairs.” He pulled my long-sleeve t-shirt over my head.

  “How do you know I’m awake enough yet?”

  He grinned. “Because I’m an expert on waking you up.”

  “I can say the same thing about waking you up.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m guessing you know I’m already up.”

  I adjusted myself on his lap. “Yeah, you are, but you’re wearing entirely too much clothing.”

  “So are you.” He unclasped my bra, and I knew I’d never look at that theater room the same way.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lame romantic gestures c
ome more naturally to me than I expected. I checked the white paper bag one last time before slipping it into the basket of my bike. I’d ordered Colin’s favorite sandwich—turkey and ham on a hoagie roll, but I wasn’t sure the cook hadn’t put pickles on by mistake. Colin hated pickles. He’d been working nonstop all week, and taking a break for lunch wasn’t his thing. After another text about how he missed me, I decided to take things into my own hands. His office was right in town, so it wasn’t a long ride. I opted for an easy sandwich joint instead of anything fancy. It was the thought that counted, right?

  The weather was a little cold for a dress in November, but I wanted to look cute. If this was my only chance to see Colin all week, I wasn’t wasting it on old jeans. I was long due for a shopping trip, but the way my checking account looked, it wasn’t in the cards. I’d settled on a retro shift dress, the kind with all the buttons down the front.

  I stopped in front of his building and searched for the bike rack. Of course there wasn’t one out in the open. Businesses that didn’t want people without cars didn’t put a rack out in public view. I followed instinct and walked around to the back of the building. There was a small rack with only two shiny new bikes on it—employees’ bikes I’m sure. I slid mine in and locked it before walking around to the front.

  I smoothed out my dress, hoping the wind hadn’t messed up my hair too much. My plan to visit the bathroom first was thwarted when someone I vaguely recognized as a friend of Colin’s who had come into the bar with him once called out to me. He was older than us, probably in his late thirties, with that slightly graying hair that made a guy look good and a girl look old. “Hey, Maddy.”

  “Hi.” I smiled politely.

  “I don’t think we’ve officially met, but Colin talks about you all the time. I’m Martin.”

  “Oh. Hi, Martin. Nice to meet you.” I checked out the simplistic lobby. It’s neutral tones seemed the appropriate fit for a beach town.

  “Does Colin know you’re here?” he asked.

  “How do you know I’m here to see Colin?”

  “Why would you be here to see anyone else?”

  Evidently, he didn’t get the joke. “No. He doesn’t know yet.”

  “Let me walk you up then.”