Just a Flicker of Hope

Chapter 2- The Encounter

She looked around the bar and sighed to herself. It wasn't crowded by any means, but there were enough people to tell her that the chances of closing early were slim. She saw her friend Jenna dropping a bottle of whiskey to a table in the back, where the lights were darkest, and huffed silently to herself as she saw the girl's skirt rise a little.

Always the flirt, Jenna was, and she had certainly gotten enough men's numbers to prove it. She would chat them up a little, ask their name and about their day, shifting her weight to one foot so that she was a little sideways, giving the customer a nice but appropriate view of her ass.

Felicity wasn't like that. Men–sober men–didn't look at her the way that they did Jenna. A few of them looked at her, here and there throughout the past few years, but none if them ever really caught her eye. They were either jerks or didn't live in the same town (sometimes even the same state), or they simply hadn't asked her out or even started a simple conversation.

Well, that wasn't true. There had been one guy ... But no, she wouldn't let herself think about him. She didn't even like him anymore, so what was the point? Oh, of course ... she had wasted four and a half years of her life with him, that was the point.

"Hey," Jenna's voice broke her from her angry thoughts, and she snapped her head up quicker than when her high school history teacher had called on her while she had been doodling a name in her notebook. "I'm heading out, Mr. Ferentino has you closing up tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Felicity nodded, starting to wipe down the counter, trying to appear busy as she saw her boss wave from his office before walking out, a cry of 'Merry Christmas!' getting lost in the wind. "Wait, who's bringing you home? Didn't Mary drive you here?"

"Yeah," Jenna shrugged, unconcerned. "The guy at table six is bringing me home. Well, I'm bringing him home."

"Are you sure that's safe?"

"Well no, but I always go home with guys. I mean, not always, but you know ... I mean, Todd broke up with me months ago and nobody else is interested, so why not have a few one night stands? I don't mind."

'Yeah, right, and I'm the queen of England.' Felicity scoffed inwardly. She knew why Jenna did it, why she slept with these different men. Because they wanted her, just for the night, no strings attached–because she could have sex and pretend someone wanted to love her–to hide the pain she felt over Todd's out-of-the-blue decision to break up. Of course she knew, she knew all about relationships. At least, she did now.

"Okay, be safe." She hummed, giving her a brief hug over the counter. "Call me if he tries anything you don't like."

"Okay," Jenna agreed as she always did, grabbing her purse and jacket and heading for the door, followed by a tall man with blond hair and the shoulders of a surfer.

Felicity swallowed hard, thinking how she used to date someone who looked like that–almost exactly like that, actually–for four and a half years.

"Hey, could I get a shot of vodka or something?" A slightly slurred voice asked from her right, and she jumped a little as she realized a man was sitting at the bar.

He was tall, maybe six feet, wearing a pair of denim jeans and a white shirt, a hat on his head that reminded her of a 1930's newsboy's. His hair was thick and short, the color of chocolate somewhere in between the versions of milk and dark. His eyes were green–a stunning green, something like emeralds in sunlight–but they were glossy and red-rimmed. His words had gotten a bit strung together, a little smashed and tangled as they found their way past his lips, his accent thick and enthralling.