by A. E. Wasp
She turned and left with a huff. Dmitri wondered what he’d get for dinner tonight. If she were really mad, she’d bring him the salad.
chapter two
Angel walked back to the bar, her forehead creased in annoyance. She called out her drink orders to Troy then disappeared into the kitchen. She came back out carrying a tray of burgers and fries
“Hey, Troy, I’m a little busy. Can you take those drinks outside for me?”
“Sure. No problem.” He usually stayed behind the bar, but if it was busy enough, he helped her out.
“That sangria is for your Prince Charming at table six. His name is Dmitri, by the way.”
“Oh, sexy,” Troy said before he could stop himself.
Angel grinned.
“Shut up.”
He took the tray and distributed the drinks to the patrons on the patio, saving Dmitri for last. The music had started, and guitar-heavy blues drifted across the square.
“Here you go.” Troy carefully placed the carafe of sangria on the table.
“Hi,” Dmitri said. “Is that for me?”
“Yeah, Angel asked me to bring it over to you. Didn’t you order it?”
Dmitri smiled. He had a great mouth, nice full lips. The bottom one was a little fuller than the top. Very kissable, in Troy’s opinion. And those eyelashes were really much too dark for such a fair-haired man. Troy fought the urge to run his fingertip across the fringe of lashes.
“I didn’t. Angel always thinks she knows what I need better than I do.”
“Oh.” Troy reached for the carafe, but Dmitri stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“No, leave it. She’s right, as usual.”
Now what was he supposed to say? He used to be so good at small talk. In high school and on base, he’d been the life of the party, the one who did the introducing. Lately, since he’d gotten out, it seemed he’d forgotten how to do normal things like talking to people.
This stuff was a lot easier in a war zone, where your options are limited, and you were thrown together day and night with nothing else to do but explore. You didn’t date in a war zone; you fucked and hoped both of you stayed alive for the next day.
Troy ran his hand through his hair and sighed mentally.
“I’m going...I’ve got to go back to the bar. It was nice meeting you.” Nice meeting you? He’d barely met the man. Just dropped a drink on his table.
“Angel tells me you’re a vet,” Dmitri said.
“Yeah, I am. You think she’s starting a dating service for vets?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her. She likes to play matchmaker, and truthfully, she’s got a very impressive record of setting people up.”
Troy looked through the window to where Angel was depositing food at a table of four women, one of whom looked about four seconds away from running her hand across Angel’s ass. “Really? I don’t think I’ve seen her date the same person twice. And I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.”
“Angel’s a do as she says, not as she does person.”
“She’s awesome. She deserves someone special.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Dmitri smiled again, and this time Troy smiled back.
“My name is Dmitri.”
“I’m Troy. Nice to meet you.” Oh, God. He’d already said that, hadn’t he? Smooth. “Well, I reckon I should be gettin’ back.”
Damn it. He hated it when the West Virginia slipped out. He hadn’t had to hide it in the Army, where any kind of southern accent was more common than not, but it made him feel like a hick in this upper-middle class college town. It seemed like everybody here was either a doctor or a lawyer or a professor.
“Wait,” Dmitri stopped him. “Do you want to get coffee maybe one day? Lunch? A walk around the reservoir?”
Troy clutched the drink tray to his chest and looked at the guy. “Really?”
“Really.”
“How is it possible that you’re single?” Troy asked.
He could sense the patrons on the patio talking more quietly, leaning closer trying to eavesdrop subtly, so he moved in closer to Dmitri. “I mean, you’re so good looking.”
Dmitri laughed. “You think I’m good looking?”
“Well, yeah.”
Dmitri laughed again. “Looks aren’t everything. Maybe I’m a horrible person.”
Troy tilted his head and studied Dmitri. “Well, I think if you were looking pretty and acting ugly, Angel wouldn’t be friends with you.”
“So, if we go out and everything is awful, we can blame Angel.”
Troy smiled broadly. “Absolutely.”
Dmitri laughed. Troy thought he was even better looking when he smiled. “This is, I think, the weirdest pre-date conversation I’ve ever had. I’ll tell you what. You go to coffee with me, and I’ll tell you why I’m single, okay? Then you can tell me you why you’re single. Then we’ll get that all behind us, and we can look forward to the next step.”
“I guess so. But I have to warn you. I haven’t had a date since high school.”
“Really?”
Troy shrugged. “Yeah. And it was all girls then.”
“So, this would be your first date with a man?” Dmitri’s voice dropped.
Something inside Troy shivered, and he put a hand on the table and leaned down. “Actual date? Technically, yes.”
Dmitri’s eyes dropped down Troy’s body, blatantly checking him out.
Troy straightened up, hoping Dmitri liked what he saw.
“So, it’s a date then?” Dmitri raised one eyebrow.
“Sure. Where and when?”
“Tomorrow’s Friday, so I have to work tomorrow night. How about we meet at Starry Night at three? I’ll load up on caffeine to help me through my shift.”
Dmitri’s eyes were locked on Troy’s mouth, so Troy bit his lip gently, rolling it between his teeth, and then releasing it. Dmitri mirrored the action and then looked up as he sunk deeper into his chair, legs spreading. “I’ve got Friday off for the Fourth, so that works for me. Starry Night at three it is.”
Troy was starting to remember how this all went.
“Great.”
Angel called for Troy over the murmur of the crowd. “Troy! Little help here!”
“I’m going to get fired,” Troy laughed. “See you tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it.”
Troy forced himself to saunter slowly back into the bar despite the butterflies in his stomach. He resisted the urge to look back, though he could feel Dmitri’s eyes on him.
Troy pushed the door open with a flourish, almost smacking Angel in the face with it as he did. “Sorry.”
“Oh, Dmitri,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “You’re so pretty.” She flipped her hair back so that the undercut showed. “I don’t know why you asked little ole me out.”
“Shut up.”
“That is the funniest shit I have heard all day. I don’t think he’s going to be surprised that you’re still single if that’s all the game that you got.”
They walked further into the bar, Angel yanking the drink tray away from Troy. “Give me that.”
“I’ve got game,” Troy said. “I got so much game; I’m practically Milton Bradley.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re smooth. Like milk chocolate.”
Troy sighed, deflated. “I know.” He whined. “I got nothing. I’ve never dated. I don’t know how to do this.”
Angel took pity on him, wrapping her thin, strong arm around his shoulders. “Come on. I’ll give you Angel’s quick and dirty tricks for dating. Never failed me yet.”
“Yeah? How many second dates have you had?”
“A couple.”
Troy shook his head. “You’re ruining all the lesbian stereotypes, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. But maybe one night the doors might open, and Ms. Right will walk through those doors and sweep me off my feet. Then I won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear,” Tr
oy said.
“It’s a coffee date. It will be fine. What could possibly go wrong?”
Troy groaned. “Never say that. Now you’ve cursed it.”
Angel hugged him. “Don’t be a baby. It will be fine.”
chapter three
“You’re wearing that?” Angel asked from her perch on one of the two bar stools in Dmitri’s kitchen.
“What’s wrong with it?” Pulling down a chipped Colorado State coffee mug, he filled it and handed it to Angel.
“Nothing. If you want to look like a twenty-year-old dude-bro.”
Dmitri looked down at his knee-length cargo shorts and tank top. Okay, maybe the flip-flops were a little ratty. “What should I wear?”
“Jeans. And that teal shirt I bought you last year that you never wear. It makes your eyes look extra blue.”
Dmitri wrinkled up his nose as he sat on the other stool. “Jeans?” he whined. “It supposed to be ninety degrees today.”
“Do you want to be getting some hot man-love again before you die?”
He sighed, slumping. “Yes.”
“Then change.”
“Fine I will.” He ducked as the cabinet door swung over his head in a lazy arc, brushing through his blond curls.
“I hear some people have doors that actually stay shut,” Angel said, brushing the red-dyed side of her hair out of her eyes.
“This stays shut.” Dmitri pressed the piece of tape hanging from the edge of the door against the neighboring cabinet. “See?”
Angel raised one pierced eyebrow. “How old is that piece of tape?”
“I’ve replaced it at least once since Granddad died, so two years? Ish.”
“Hmm.” Angel frowned and sipped her coffee.
The door wasn’t the only unfinished project in the house. The kitchen alone was a disaster of half-installed vinyl tile, doorless cabinets, and unpainted molding. A washing machine hugged the wall, rubber hosing trailing across the ground, and disappearing into an alcove. He’d had high hopes of fixing it all up after buying the house from his parents, but each weekend those hopes slipped further and further away. He was starting to understand why his parents had had no problem leaving the house behind when they’d moved up the mountain.
“I know the house needs work. But that might be somebody else’s problem soon.”
Angel set the coffee cup on the counter in front of her. “Explain.”
Dmitri slid his hands into the pockets of his shorts and looked at the floor. “I might be moving.”
Angel slid off the stool to stand in front of Dmitri, wiry arms crossed across her chest. “Explain.”
Though she barely reached Dmitri’s chin, he took a step back, putting his hands up to fend her off. “It’s just a maybe. I applied for this job. In California.”
“California? Dimka, that’s awesome! We always wanted to go there.”
“We got close that one time. Before the car broke down.”
“Yeah. Golconda, Nevada is just so similar to San Francisco. Hard to tell them apart.”
Dmitri laughed. “Did it even have a repair shop?”
“Nope,” Angel answered with a hard pop on the P. “We had it towed to Winnemucca, remember.”
“Oh yeah. Good times. Well, this time, we’ll take my car. It has a transmission that might actually stay in one piece.”
“We?” Angel asked.
Dmitri smiled at the look in Angel’s eyes. “If you want to come with me. I’m sure I could use a roomie.”
She hugged him hard. As always, Dmitri was surprised by how tiny his best friend was in comparison to her enormous personality. He could feel her shoulder blades pushing through the thin t-shirt she wore. She’d saved his life more than once over the years. Maybe he’d be able to repay her now, get them both out of town.
Not that there was anything particularly terrible with Red Deer. But there had to be more to life than being born, living, and dying in the same town. They’d tried to get out several times before, but stuff kept happening, life intruded, inertia took over, and here they were. Ten years after high school and still in the same town. Same house for God’s sake. Even his parents had moved.
“So, tell me about this job,” Angel said, tucking a leg up under her, balancing on the stool.
Moby, his half-lab, half-border-collie, all-crazy mutt lay on the floor between them, light-blue eyes trained on his dirty tennis ball.
“I don’t even really remember. Something with the USDA and cows. In various rural areas. Not San Francisco, sadly. Truthfully, I barely looked at the job description, just made sure I was qualified for it.”
“Cows? That doesn’t sound like your kind of thing. I thought you loved your job?”
“I do. What I don’t love is the mountain of debt I’m buried under. At this rate, I’m going to die owing more to student loans than I do today.”
“So this pays more?”
Dmitri shrugged noncommittally. “They have a program where if I take a job in a critical-need area, they’ll pay $25,000 a year towards my student loans. Tax-free. That’s a lot of bucks.”
“Couldn’t you make that much more by opening a private practice?”
“I’m not that kind of a vet. I’m a research vet; you know that. I see more of animal cells than actual animals.”
Angel kicked the tennis ball, rolling it across the floor. Moby sprang into action, claws skidding across the linoleum floor. “Yeah. I never got that.”
Dmitri frowned. “We’ve been over this.” He loved the idea of helping sick animals, but when he thought about having to tell some little kid that her beloved cat had to be put to sleep, he died a little on the inside. No. He couldn’t handle that. “Besides, I don’t know if it would make that much more money. Nothing is guaranteed. There’s a lot of competition in this town, what if I didn’t get any clients?”
Angel poked Dmitri in the shoulder with a hard finger. “You always think so little of yourself. Why are we friends again?”
“Because you would have failed high school without me.”
Moby trotted over to Angel, dropped the ball at her feet, and then laid down again, eyes flitting up to Angel, then down to the ball over and over again.
Dmitri kicked the tennis ball out through the open back door. Moby charged through it.
Angel swung the door shut. “And you would have been shoved into lockers without me.”
“Probably. Almost was anyway.”
“What about your family? Friends? Won’t you miss them?”
“My family will be fine without me. Pippi can move into the house. She’ll love that.”
“Friends?”
“Do I have any besides you? Seems like all I have is sorta-exes and people I haven’t seen since the last day of school.”
Angel finished the coffee and put the cup in the sink. “You would have friends if you’d let yourself.”
“Why are you fighting me on this?”
She stared into the sink. Dmitri watched her fingers tap nervously against the scratched porcelain. “Just don’t want to get my hopes up,” she said finally.
Living in this town had been harder on her than on him, Dmitri knew. She and her brother Diego had grown up running wild. Her mom was a housekeeper at one of the sketchier places in the north end of town, her dad a long-haul trucker who had never officially married her mom. Not that it mattered; he was never around anyway. When Diego died of an overdose six years ago, Angel had dropped out of college a year into her nursing degree. Dmitri had been trying to get her to go back ever since.
Dmitri wrapped his arms around her from behind, hugging her hard. He dropped a kiss on her hair. “I know. But we’ll get out of here. I’ll take you with me.”
She reached back, patting his head. He felt her stiffen under his embrace, and he stepped back and gave her some space. Dmitri poured the last bit of coffee into a travel mug and changed the subject.
“What are you going to do today?”
She turned ar
ound with a smile. “I’m going hiking with Jay. Not a long one. It’s gonna be another hot day, and I have to work tonight.”
“Jay?”
Angel bit her bottom lip. “New girl. Starting grad school here in the fall. You don’t know her.”
“Well, try not to break her heart before school starts.”
Angel placed her fingers against her chest, eyes open wide. “Me? I’m always the one left alone. Sad. Dumped. And this is how you, my best friend, treat me? I’m devastated.”
Dmitri laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I am truly, truly sorry for...” He paused, looking up at the ceiling. “For your dates.”
Angel smacked his hand away. “Screw you.” She filled up her water bottle and went to the fridge. She held up two apples and raised an eyebrow. Dmitri nodded and waved his hand.
Tucking the apples into her backpack before shrugging it on with a flip of her hair, she smiled. “Whatever. See you tonight for the post-date recap?” She opened the back door, waiting for his answer. Moby pushed past her, almost knocking her over.
“Moby!” Dmitri scolded. “Yeah, I’ll be there. But you let the lunatic back in or no tip for you.”
Angel smiled broadly and left.
Dmitri sighed. “Moby.” The dog was nowhere to be seen. Great.
It took him fifteen minutes to find the dog and get her outside again before he could leave. He hated leaving Moby alone all day. Maybe he needed another dog so she’d have company. As he dug through his dresser for the teal shirt, he wondered if the new guy, Troy, liked dogs.
T-minus thirty minutes until date time and Troy was staring into his closet, naked, trying to figure out what to wear. Angel had suggested he wear his burgundy V-neck t-shirt and tight dark blue 501 jeans she had said ‘showed off his assets.’ Then she’d smacked him on the butt.
“First of all, I can’t believe you’ve memorized my wardrobe.”
