And now that I knew she turned out damn fine, I couldn’t get her out of my head.

“Hey, listen.” Ian cuts through the silence. “I can see I’m pulling teeth here.” Dropping some cash on the bar, Ian stands from his seat. “See you at work.”

“You’re right,” I admit when his back is half-turned away from me. “It is Grace.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?” He laughs, joking with me and my absentmindedness.

Dropping back into his seat, Ian folds his arms atop the bar. “I’m listening.”

As I explain who Grace is and the significance she’s had on my life, Ian listens, almost shocked by the very unlikely story. He nods occasionally, but when all is said and done, the only words he offers, are “So then what are you doing here with me?”

Grumbling my response, I say, “She’s on a date.” After ordering another round of drinks, I explain, “She said it was because she had to be there for her friend. And I did show up completely unannounced. It’s not like I can expect her to put her life on hold simply because I want to get to know her.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Ian mumbles around the lip of his mug.

“What?”

“Look, I’m not going to get all poetic on you or any kind of shit like that.” Swigging down half of his beer, he swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “But you pretty much won the lottery on that fairy-tale line of bullshit the chicks love. Boy rescues girl from burning house. Girl moves away and doesn’t see boy for eighteen years. I guarantee it, if you want to get to know her, she’ll let you. All you have to do is ask.”

Maybe he is right. Maybe it is that simple.

“I guess I’ll have to wait and see. Not much I can do about it tonight.”

“Yeah there is,” he says, tipping his empty mug at me. “Buy me another round for having to put up with you and your sorry excuse of a love life for the night.”

We both laugh and the conversation shifts to work—as it usually does. Somewhere around eleven, the bar starts to fill with the usual groupie crowd. On a mission and done with idle talk of work, Ian stands from his stool. Clapping me on the shoulder, he says, “Not that I don’t love wasting away with you here, but I am in desperate need of some female attention.” Like a fox, he scans the crowd. After settling on a group of dancing girls, Ian shoots me a sly grin. “And they”—angling his head toward them, he continues—“look like the attention-giving type. Wanna join?”

“Nah,” I deflect his invitation. “I’m beat. And I have to be at my parents’ house early tomorrow.” With a fist bump, he walks off toward his targets.

Shaking my head, I have to admit, there are times when I wish I could be as smooth as Ian. It’s not that he’s uncaring, but he doesn’t let his head get too clouded up with the what ifs. And right now, the what ifs are all that fill me.

But as I lean my shoulder against the door to leave, an arm loops through mine, stopping me in my tracks. The slight movement of turning to see who it is causes the person to stumble and push into me. It’s then that I realize it’s Kelsey. Drunk as a fucking monkey.

“Hey,” she slurs, drawing out the single word. Her eyes are half-opened, her drunkenness weighing them down. “Where are you going?” Catching her balance, she stretches up on her toes and presses a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“Kels.” My voice is calm and firm as are my hands on her shoulders, righting her. “Are you okay?” My question is met with a confused stare, her brows twisting together.

Slapping a hand playfully to my chest, she purrs, “I’m fine. Could be a lot better.” Her hint is met with nothing more than a deep sigh. “What?” she responds to the dismissive sigh, curling her fingers around my arm as I finish pushing the door open.

When we’re out on the street, the buzz of the city flies around us. Cars race down the street. An ambulance wails in the background. A group of rowdy drunks divides and moves around us, forcing me to pull Kelsey out of the way. Of course she misreads this, thinking I’ve changed my mind and I’ll be taking her up on her offer of making the night a lot better.

“So, back to my place?” She looks up at me, batting her fake eyelashes, begging for my attention.

Turning her so she’s facing me, I grip her shoulders, making sure I have her full attention. “Kels, look,” I begin to explain. “This isn’t going to happen. It can’t.”

Acting as if she hasn’t heard a word I just said, she wiggles out of my grip and loops her arms around my waist. Pressing her lips up against my ear, she whispers, “It can happen and you know when it does it’ll be so good.”

“David,” a soft voice calls to me from behind, pulling my attention away from Kelsey before she has the chance to shove her tongue in my ear. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Grace,” I say, turning away from Kelsey.

“Who the hell are you?” Kelsey spits angrily, moving away from me and toward Grace.

Stopping her before she gets more than two steps away from me, I step in front of Kelsey. “Stop it.” My voice has moved from being firm, to pissed. The last thing I need is for Kelsey to screw this up.

“Grace.” My tone softens as I approach her. “What are you doing here?”

“The date was over,” she explains, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you said you would probably be here with your friend.” Her admission is shy and quiet, the exact opposite of the annoying grumbles coming from Kelsey.

“Are you done here?” Kelsey pulls at my arm, trying to twist me back to her. “I thought we were going to my place–”

“I should go,” Grace cuts through the beginning of Kelsey’s tirade. “You’re obviously busy.”

Kelsey steps in front of me, a smug look of satisfaction spreading across her face. Over her shoulder, I see Grace moving further away from us. My good conscience is momentarily torn between the two of them.

I can’t leave Kelsey here. She’s too drunk to take care of herself and it’s too late to leave her to get home safely.

I can’t let Grace walk home alone.

And the truth is, I don’t want to let her go.

“Grace!” I yell out, making her stop in her tracks. “Wait,” I add, jogging toward her. Glancing backward, I see Kelsey standing there, arms pitched to her hips, toe tapping a furious beat in front of her. “It’s most definitely not what it looks like,” I defend even though she hasn’t accused me of anything. “She’s drunk. I can’t leave her alone. Give me five minutes and I’ll walk you home.”

Grace scans my face, searching for some hint of truth, some sign that I’m not bullshitting her. “Fine,” she relents. “I’ll wait over here though.” Grace walks over to a table and chairs set up outside the bar.

Gathering my thoughts, I walk over to Kelsey, who still hasn’t cooled off much. “What is she still doing here?” Like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum of epic proportions, she points a finger over at Grace, who’s doing nothing more than sitting there minding her own business.

“She’s waiting for me to get rid of you,” I ground out through clenched teeth. Pulling her toward the curb, I hail a cab. Luck is most definitely on my side when one slides up to the curb almost as soon as my hand is in the air. As I open the door, I say, “You need to get home. Sober up.”

“What the hell, David?” she shrieks.

“Look, Kelsey,” I say, keeping my eyes fixed on hers. “I said it inside before. This”—I gesture between us—“is not going to work. It never worked before. And yeah, it was wrong of me to lead you on, but I’m not doing that anymore.”

With an angry huff, Kelsey points over my shoulder. “Because of that slu–”

“Don’t go there, Kelsey,” I admonish sternly. “Stop yourself now, before you say something you regret.” Ushering her into the cab, I add, “Get home safely.”

The door slams with a loud thud and as the cab pulls away, I catch a glimpse of Kelsey sitting in the back seat, her face contorting in all sorts of anger.