This is War (Checkmate Duet 1)

This is everything our relationship is founded on. We can’t be in the same space long together without a fight breaking out. One moment we’re fucking perfect, the next we’re at each other’s throats. All that tension bottles up and releases in harsh waves, ready to jump each other’s bones or kill one another.

I end up driving to Good Times and decide I need a drink or two. I’m still in the slacks and dress shirt I wore to work, my hair now a mess, and the anger evident on my face. I need more than a drink at this point. My head is in a haze after all that’s happened today, and I replay every moment as I walk to the empty stool in the middle of the bar.

“Whatcha having, baby?” The bartender leans against the counter in a low-cut shirt. She’s cute and eyeing me like she’s going to take me home and do naughty things to me.

“Whiskey and coke.”

She pours it tall and winks at me as she hands it over. I offer her a weak smile and she licks her lips. If this were any other time, I’d be laying it on thick, flattering her and commenting about her looks, but right now all I can think about it Viola being with that tool bag, Jason.

I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, but I ignore it. I need time to think. Or rather, I need to drink and not think at all. A few big gulps and the whiskey and coke is gone. The bartender points at my glass, and I nod for another. As she sets it on the bar, I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Travis?” I turn around and see it’s Courtney. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

She looks genuinely confused as she sips her martini. The music is loud and she’s yelling to be heard.

“What are you doing here?” I don’t really care to hear her answer. I turn back around to my second whiskey and drink. She takes that as an invitation and sits on the stool next to me.

“You’re supposed to be in your bedroom, showing my best friend a good time.”

I sarcastically laugh. “No. She’s too busy fucking someone else.”

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters. “You’re both so damn stubborn.” I shrug, not disagreeing with her statement, but not agreeing either.

“That’s it.” She grabs her phone from her purse, picks up her martini, and walks off.

“Don’t—” I turn toward her, but she’s already vanished into the hoards of people on the dance floor. Fucking great. I don’t have the strength to chase after her, but she doesn’t seem like the type of girl that listens very well anyway.

“Drowning in your sorrows over here?” The bartender asks with a smile on her face.

“Something like that.” I’m not in the mood to chat.

“She’s one lucky girl.” She pours me a shot of tequila. “This one’s on me. I’m Krystal.” She holds her hand out and reluctantly, I take it.

“Thanks, Krystal. I’m Travis.”

“Travis,” she repeats. “Well, whatever you’re drinking to, feel free to stay as long as you’d like.” She winks before getting called over to the other side of the bar.

The dynamic of the room changes as the music slows down. There are countless drunk couples grinding all over each other on the dance floor so I bow my head and take another swig.

As I start on my third drink, I glance in mirror that lines the bar and see Viola walk through the door in the same blue jeans and t-shirt she was wearing earlier. She makes a beeline to Courtney who’s eagerly waiting on the edge of the dance floor with a huge smile on her face. Courtney pulls Viola into a big drunken hug then points to the bar. I don’t know what the hell Courtney told her, but I try to blend in anyway. If I get up now, I might be able to make it to the door without being seen, but I have a tab open and Krystal is busy at the other end of the bar. My body stiffens because I don’t want Viola to notice me, so I focus on my drink. After a few moments, I hear a clearing of a throat behind me, but I ignore it.

“Travis,” Viola says, angry.

I suck in a deep breath and swallow hard before turning around. I see Courtney behind her, pushing her way through the crowd and parting their bodies like the red sea. Her lips are spread in a wide grin and I curse under my breath at the realization that she called Viola here.

“Where’s your date?” I ask in a dissatisfied tone, glancing behind her as if I expect him to be following her inside.

“Just stop it. Okay? Shut the fuck up and listen for once.” Viola places her hands on her hips. The flashing lights from the dance floor streams over her body and even though she’s not dressed up, she’s the sexiest woman in this entire room. She doesn’t even have to try.