Wanting More With You (Book 1, Part 1)

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER II

By the time I'm done weeping on my mother's lap, it's nine-thirty and I'm at the bar. Somewhere that I should not be. Somewhere I don't necessarily want to be either. I prefer to be on my mother's lap right now than to be here. If there is anything that I hate more than being vulnerable, it's a bad drink. Which (according to the reviews) this place is full of. But, unfortunately, I'm desperate. Which is another thing that I hate. Want to know another thing that I hate? Being single and heartbroken after my ex-fiancé cheats on me. Tonight is just full of wonder, isn't it? A bad drink will most definitely make it worse, but like I said. Desperate. I take a deep breath and enter the bar. I'm determined to make the best of this night. I slowly walk in, closing my eyes, hoping that my thoughts aren't true.

Once I open them, it appears they aren't. On the outside of the bar, I couldn't decide what to think about it. It didn't give away much. It just had a sign that said "Tony's Place." Nothing bad. Nothing good. Just neutral. But on the inside, it's a whole other story.

The dim lighting casts a warm glow over the worn wooden tables, and the faint hum of chatter fills the air. The scent of pumpkins in the Autumn time fills my nose. There's cozy jazz music that makes me want to forget about all of my problems and just listen. It looks...amazing. Only wine will tell.

With that, I hang my coat up and take a seat at the barstool. Not long after, a bartender approaches me. "What do you have to drink?" I ask. My tone must give something away. He effortlessly raises his eyebrow, leans over, and asks,

"Well, that depends. Are you trying to make this a night to remember or forget?"

"Forget," I say immediately. "Definitely forget. In the most sophisticated way possible." He laughs.

"Coming right up."

He starts to walk away when my stomach growls loudly. He turns back around slowly, looking amused. "Anything else I can get you?"

"I can't think of anything. Surprise me."

"Okay. Be right back." I sit and wait for him to come back, taking in everything around me as I do. It's all so beautiful. So soothing and peaceful. If this wasn't a bar and I had a book on me, I would be sitting back and reading by now. I know it sounds corny, but it's true. In my opinion, there aren't many places that are perfect for reading a book. One of them would be here, the other would be at my house. It kind of reminds me of this place. Peaceful, has an ungodly amount of jazz records, and has a cozy Autumn smell in every part of it.

I can vividly picture cozying up on my couch with an oversized t-shirt, a book in my hand, and a glass of strawberry lemonade wine at my side. The last perfect location for reading would be at the beach. I would love to sit at the beach and read, while the loud but calming sound of the waves fills me up with a feeling of comfort and happiness.

Say, I think to myself, as I'm being brought to my present, some comfort wouldn't be too bad right about now. I am filled with a very sad, uncomfortable feeling. This is going to take some getting... I am in the middle of my thoughts when I feel it: a liquid falling from my eyes. My tears. Boy, this is going to take some getting used to.

I sit here for a while, silently crying. No sniffling, no sobbing how I was earlier. Just a quiet cry. I grab the napkins next to me and wipe my eyes. About ten minutes later, my bartender still hasn't come to give me my surprise snack or drink, and a cute white guy takes a seat next to me with a heavy sigh. I look over at him and study his features. He has dark brown hair, blue eyes, beautiful, clear skin, and a very nice build. He's skinny but he's not a twig. At all. He has muscles that are visible through the black t-shirt that he's wearing.