Chasing Danger

2- my best friend Chris

The bar had at least seven tvs, two behind the bar and the rest scattered around the room. They were flat-screens, each projecting some type of sport. This time of year, almost every screen broadcasted a football game.

"Rum and coke?" I asked Chris as I stood up. He nodded, so I left him to go to the bar. Instantly, my eyes found Tyler. He was the only one working and as I walked closer, I felt my nerves lighting up. Let me tell you, I've had tons of crushes but none of them made me quite as nervous as this one bartender.

Tyler's eyes met mine as soon as I leaned against the wooden surface, his expression as blank as ever.

"Three vodka cranberries?" He asked as he pulled out three glasses.

"Actually, no. Two rum and cokes, please."

I watched as his eyes flitted over to Chris before looking back at me. "You got it."

I'd like to think I saw some jealousy, but it was probably just my imagination since his face literally hasn't changed since the first time I saw him.

Tyler poured the drinks right in front of me, making them both strong. When he told me the total, I gave him my card so I could start a tab.

Then he started helping other people.

Feeling dejected, I grabbed the drinks and walked back the table.

"You like him, don't you?" Chris must have seen my face when I sat back down.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yep." Chris took a sip from his rum and coke and looked at me with some weird kind of expression, like I was a naughty five year-old or something.

"What?"

"Nothing, just thought you'd have better taste."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He looks like he just got out of jail."

I glanced over at Tyler and considered it. I wasn't at all turned off. Shrugging, I shot Chris a mischievous grin.

Rolling his eyes, but smiling again, Chris said, "You're gonna get yourself into trouble some day."

"I'm counting on it."

Chris shook his head at me, disappointment evident behind his grin. Instead of saying anything, he turned his attention back to the TV. The Dolphins were playing the Patriots and it was a death match. Since the Pats won the Superbowl two years ago, things had really gone downhill for them. Brady just needed to retire already, I thought as I watched him botch yet another pass.

Splitting my attention between the game and stolen glances at the bartender, I started to wonder why I even wanted to come out in the first place. Here I was coming to the bar on a Sunday night, for the sole purpose of running into Tyler, and I had barely spoken to him. I felt frustration bubbling beneath the surface, my fingers tapping impatiently on the wooden table.

I glanced back over at the bar, ready to go over there and talk to him when I stopped. A brunette had sat in front of Tyler, tits barely covered up by her tight tank top, chatting him up. I studied his face, watching as his mouth crinkled up into a real teeth-baring smile, one I had never witnessed before. Red-hot jealousy started to overcome me as I stared lasers of death into the back of the girl's skull, wishing she would just get the frick out of here.

"Girls."

The sound of Chris' chastising voice distracted my attention. I turned only to see him smiling with amusement.

"Always trying to lay claim on something they haven't asked for yet."

Instead of turning this into a feminist debate, as I often did, I responded defensively. "It's called playing hard to get."

"Aka mind games, I know."

"Oh, like guys don't play games too." 

"We don't. Not like you girls do."

I scoffed at him. "Haven't you always wondered why dating comes with so many sports metaphors? It can't just be because of one side."

"Yes it can, and it does."

I narrowed my eyes at him before making a face at him. I knew I was right, but there was no point in arguing anymore. Regardless of how dating got so fucked up, it was, and there was no getting around it.

My eyes traveled back to Tyler and the brunette girl still chatting at the bar, and I only had one thought swirling through my mind.

Game on.