All I Ask(40)

If I could ignore how cute he is when he smiles, it would make this whole moving on and dating thing a lot easier.

“You do.”

“Okay, then.”

My eyes narrow because that was almost too easy. “Why do I think I walked into a trap?”

“You didn’t. If I ruined your date, I do owe you. We’re a sad pair, the two of us. I’m a widower with a teenager who thinks I’m the worst parent alive. You’re sexless for over ten years with a teenager who has to deal with mine. I think we both are pretty pathetic.”

“I didn’t say I was sexless.” I shrug as he stares at me wide-eyed. “Please, don’t look so shocked.” It’s not like I sleep around, but the one guy that I hooked up with a few years ago was really fun, and I needed some damn fun.

He cracks his neck, trying to hide his discomfort, and then raises his drink. “Here we were, thinking we had our shit together and it turns out we’re a mess.”

“No, I knew I was a mess,” I admit. “I never said otherwise.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Derek says and lifts the glass to his lips, draining the liquid and then motioning for the bartender. “I need four shots. Two each.”

Oh, this is such a bad idea. “Shots? No.”

He rolls his eyes and amends his request. “Make that four shots, two vodka with lemon and sugar and then two tequila.”

I’m already two vodka-and-cranberry deep, which wouldn’t seem so bad, but I don’t drink much. I’m already feeling lightheaded and a little less in control. I should probably leave. The smart thing to do is to walk away before I do something I regret. Then there’s part of me that’s having fun and doesn’t want to go.

Derek is laughing…with me.

I hoped for this so many times. The two of us, just hanging out. I’ve dreamed of us doing a lot more, but this is perfect, and I don’t have a lot of perfect in my life.

“I think you’re making a mistake. I can’t really hold my liquor.”

He leans close, his voice soft and deep. “Neither can I, but I could use a night where life doesn’t suck, can’t you?”

I nod. “Well, at least I won’t be the only source of gossip anymore.”

Derek chuckles. “Here’s what I propose. Whoever’s story is the most pathetic, the other has to take a shot.”

“Oh, game on.”

He’s had six months of complete shit. I’ve had thirteen years.

“My wife was killed.”

“You went right for the jugular there,” I mumble. “Fine. I’ve spent the last thirteen years above an antique store making minimum wage.”

Derek shakes his head. “Weak. Drink.”

“You said pathetic. It’s not pathetic that your wife died…”

“No, but it’s the saddest. You having a place to live, no matter how small it is, isn’t pathetic, it’s actually admirable.”

Please, he’s reaching here. “It’s pathetic and you didn’t say sad. If we were trying for sad, then I would’ve chosen differently.”

“My game. My rules. Your story sucked in comparison.”

He’s still a cheater when it comes to games. Bastard.

“I’m not doing this because I agree,” I explain because he’ll use this excuse again. “I’m drinking because it’s easier to do than argue with you for the next hour.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself. My story beat yours, so drink.”

I grab the lemon, pour the sugar on it, hating that I lost the first round. He watches me with his brow raised, definitely not letting me out of it. I pick up the vodka, toss it back, grip the lemon in my teeth, and bite down. I haven’t done lemon drops in so long I forgot how much they can burn.

My body shivers from the alcohol flooding my bloodstream. “You’re going down,” I warn him. “You used your one sad bit on the first one.”

“I’ve got thirteen years of stories, Tea, are you so sure?”

I glare at him. “I guess we’re about to find out. My turn.” I want to go for the kill about Keith, but I feel like I need to play this smart. “I gave birth to Chastity with the nurse as my coach after you broke up our friendship over the phone.”

At that time, I had no one I wanted by my side. My mother and I had been fighting that day and Derek’s call sent me into labor. I didn’t want to talk to anyone except him and he had made it clear that our friendship was over. The desire to be independent won out over being reasonable.

His face falls. “You were alone?”

“Well, I had Nurse Rose.”

“But you didn’t have someone who loved you there?”

“No.”

The hurt and guilt on his face cause my chest to hurt. It’s clear that the two of us are still not over things.

“I’m sorry.”

I nod. “And that wasn’t even my best story.”

“You haven’t heard mine yet.” Derek’s eyes fill with mirth. “You tried, I’ll give you that, but…”

“You can’t beat giving birth alone after you were heartbroken,” I huff while crossing my arms over my chest.

“Are you sure about that?”