Out on the Serve (Out in College 7)

“Okay, then go by yourself.”

“Mom…”

“And take a shower! You stink!”

When I got out of the shower, my mom was gone. Any other day I might have breathed a sigh of relief that I’d dodged a bullet, but she’d put some bad imagery in my head and reminded me of a few uncomfortable things I’d done my best to forget about.

Look, I wasn’t a complete idiot. Things were slightly chilly between Sophie and me. I’d hurt her feelings…more than once.

Sophie had a crush on me freshman year of college. She’d been pretty damn obvious about it. But that was just her. She didn’t do anything in small measures. She came to all my volleyball matches and always happened to be taking the same path I was to get to class. And if we happened to be at the same party, she was usually close by. The thing was, I liked her a lot. She was fun and sweet and kind of eccentric. I just wasn’t attracted to her.

We never had a major conversation about it—we just went our own ways after Anna and I started dating. Sophie and I were still friends, but there was a distance between us. Her friendship with Anna came first, and that was fine by me. After we broke up, and I started dating a guy, Soph was hands-down one of my biggest supporters. She’d been on a holiday study-abroad deal when Drew dumped me, but when she returned and found out about Colby moving out and my recent breakup, she’d offered to step in and take the extra room. Her timing was perfect, and we’d done just fine as roommates…until she started sitting too close to me on the sofa, cleaning up my messes in the kitchen, making me dinner, and offering to do my laundry.

Hey, that was all nice, but it was ultra-domestic. I got the feeling the extra attention had more to do with trying on a new role…like I was a pair of old shoes she hoped would fit. It was very…uncomfortable. I ended up spending a lot of time at my friends’ places until the night I came home to a romantic candlelight dinner for two.

I had no choice but to be brutally honest. I told her I loved her as a friend, but we’d never be more than that. I wasn’t cruel. In fact, I went out of my way to be upbeat and to assure her of all the reasons I was the world’s worst catch. We’d laughed and spent the rest of the night reminiscing about college. I wasn’t surprised when Sophie told me the next day that she was moving out and had even found me a replacement roomie. I’d been torn between relief and regret that I hadn’t been completely up front with her years ago.

I had no reason to be suspicious of Sophie, but thanks to my mother, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was up to something. It might be a big freaking coincidence that she just happened to choose where Drew worked to stage this date thing, but…guess who got dressed and drove to The Rusty Nail anyway?

7

Elliot

Every bar and restaurant near the boardwalk was packed on any given Friday night near the pier. I had second, third, and fourth thoughts about my lame-ass mission as I navigated the narrow streets and looked for a place to park. I found a decent spot a block away and decided it might be a sign that at the very least I should treat myself to a beer for my efforts. If I happened to run into Drew…not a big deal. I was more concerned about finding out who Sophie had fixed Braden up with anyway.

The Rusty Nail was a high-end seafood restaurant that boasted stellar ocean views from the bar and generous outdoor seating. The rough-hewn wood and stone decor had a Pacific Northwest vibe, but it worked in SoCal too. I sidled around a large party lingering in the reception area and took a quick look around the main dining room before making my way to the bar. It was wall-to-wall people. Of course.

I found a spot in the corner next to the kitchen. I leaned against the wall to peer outside. It was twilight now. The sky was at least five different shades of blue, ranging from royal to indigo. The overhead strands of fairy lights were for ambience only. If Braden was out there, I wouldn’t know unless he was sitting close to the bar area…with his date.

I let out a frustrated sigh, then turned to the bar and—fuck.

“Elliot. How’s it going?” Drew smiled as he set a cocktail napkin in front of me.

“Good. You?”

“Same. What can I get you?” His tone was pleasant and even with a trace of familiarity.

“Um…what do you have on tap?” I asked.