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Sophia
The waterthey serve here isreallygood. It’s super crisp and refreshing. It goes pretty well with the mini tacos that suddenly appeared in front of me and when I frowned and tried to push them back, the other bartender dude—the owner, I think—said they were mine and taken care of.
That was good because I would have been sad about saying ‘no’ to them.
They smelled really good.
And tasted even better.
I’m pondering my glass when there’s a tap on my shoulder. Startled, I jump and turn on the stool, only to find bartender Jake on my side of the bar.
“How did you get over on this side so quickly?” I ask him, and his face splits into that crooked smile he’s been shooting my way all night.
He probably gives it to all the ladies, but I guess I didn’t really notice much tonight to tell you if that was true or not.
“It’s been thirty minutes, Soph. I’m going to get you home, okay?”
“I only live a block away,” I tell him while sliding off the stool. “Oh, you’re tall.” I tip my head all the way back. “I can see up your nose.” Something tells me I’m going to regret saying that but it’s as if I have zero filter at the moment.
Jake coughs and shakes his head before draping something over my shoulders. “Stuff your arms in there. It’s cold.” I do as he asks, reveling in the warm sweatshirt fabric. It smells like a man.
“Is it yours?”
He nods.
“Won’t you be cold?”
“I’ll be fine. You’re the one dressed for summer.”
“I told Megan it was too cold for freaking tank tops. Tank tops in March at night? So dumb,” I say, shaking my head as I try to zip up the sweatshirt. Suddenly, Jake’s larger hands are there, and he tugs the pull up.
“I can drive you, or I can walk with you. But I’m going to make sure you get home all right, okay?”
“I don’t like to get into cars with strangers.”
“You mentioned that.”
“Did I? I forgot. I probably shouldn’t leave with a stranger, either.”
He grins at me again, then points to the corners of the room. “Cameras. Besides, one, you know where I work, and two, everyone here knows you’re leaving with me. I promise, you’re safe.”
“Me thinks all the unsafe people say that to their unnoticing victims.”
The upturn of his lips falters slightly and I wonder what I said to make him have the reaction. Instead, I sigh loudly. “Ugh. Fine. You drive a hard bargain.”
He chuckles and I’m not sure if it’s at me or if I made a funny joke, but I’m getting tired and know I have to get to bed sooner than later. I definitely overindulged tonight, made worse by heightened emotions and an empty stomach.
Jake yells out “bye” to the bar—excuse me,pub—and helps me toward the door. There’s a series of three steps right out the door, which was probably a bad design decision, if you ask me. With his hand on my elbow, Jake helps me down the stairs safely but once on the flat sidewalk, keeps his hands to himself again.
I wish he wouldn’t.
He has very nice hands.
“You said you live a block away? Which direction?”
“That way,” I say, jutting my chin in the correct direction, stuffing my hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. It’s warm and smells nice.
“Over the bridge?”
