Cherries

Chapter 23

Adam

Three months later.

Should I be here? Stupid fucking question really. I think I want to be here. The burger and fries taste descent, the beer is cold and the shot of whiskey slides warmly down my throat. The game is on the tv, music plays from the jukebox in the corner and there is a steady hum from the many people packed into the bar on this Friday night. I'm perched on a stool at the bar, keeping to myself, and quietly enjoying the buzz of movement around me. My life has become so stale, as I do nothing but work, to try and fill the void. Eat, sleep, work, repeat is all I have.

After three months of not having her in my life, I came to this bar tonight, really hoping that the bustle of being out, would drown out my never ending thoughts of her, her, her. Whether that's with the noise of the bar, or drowning myself in alcohol or forgetting myself in someone else, is yet to be determined. If one of those options means I get to feel something, anything, then it's fine by me. It would be better than ghosting through life like I am now. Unable to shift forward, not willing to look back, unsure about how or if I even should move on.

If Nikki were here, I'm sure she'd be analysing the shit out of me, my questionable choices in coping with the cluster fuck that my life has become. So, I avoid her at all costs. And she knows it. It's probably easier that way. I know she's still part of the team of doctors appointed to Summer, whilst she does her time. So, she can't tell me anything and I've stopped asking. At the start I fucking begged her to tell me something. How was she? Was she safe? Was she doing okay? Then I got angry. But, Nikki didn't budge and deep down I knew she couldn't breach the confidentiality agreements and conditions imposed by the courts. But fuck. It hurt me. And it still hurts.

So, in my desperation to have my brain focus on something else for a few hours, here I am. I think I want to be here. Don't I?

"Hi..." a quietly confident voice to my left coaxes my attention away from my internal debate. I slowly swivel in my seat and look at the woman smiling at me. She leans one arm on the bar and not so subtly looks me up and down, still smiling. Fuck it, I think. I turn myself fully to her, legs spread, my drink in one hand, as I return the once over right back at her. She's fucking pretty. Long blond hair. Bright blue eyes. Not too much makeup. Tight red shirt stretched over her chest. Top few buttons open showing a nice amount of skin. Black leather pants cover long legs. Heeled boots give her a bit more height, but we are still at eye level, as she moves ever so slightly towards the gap between my legs.

"You...aah, look like you could use some company," she tilts her head and lifts her eyebrows, asking me the question. And what a great question that is. After all, this is why I came here, to this bar, to allow myself a moment to feel something other than the misery of the passed three months. Of the despair of Summer's incarceration, the crushing blow that she could cut me out of her life without looking back, without hesitation, despite the growing feelings we had for each other.

"Sure," I reply back, and she smiles warmly and edges closer.

"I'm Adam," I offer my hand and she in turn slides hers into it. It's warm and soft.

"Clancey," she says. "Can I get you a refill?" She nods toward my empty shot glass.

"Yeh, okay. And what are you having?"

"Vodka, lime and soda for me." She grabs the attention of the bar tender, orders the drinks, taps her card, then turns her full attention to me.

We chat for a while. I'm surprised that the conversation flows easily. She's in the medical field, a physiotherapist at the local hospital. The noise level in the bar picks up. She moves even closer to me, almost fully pushed between my legs and drops her hand down to rest on my thigh. My heart thuds heavily as the feel of her touch invades my thoughts. Without overthinking it, I slide my hand around her waist and pull her closer. Her perfume wafts around me and I close my eyes and move my head toward the skin of her collarbone and neck. My hand drops down to her arse as hers squeezes my thigh a little harder.