A Shy Meeting

A note from the writers. This story was a creation between ShySiren and BigBearMan. We passed the story back and forth, neither contributor knowing the direction the story would be taken. While a work of fiction, each section is unique to its author. We hope you enjoy.

I thought sitting at the bar would have given me some comfort. The tonic and lime was not enough to silence the past… the memories… the pain. It had been six years… countless hours, days, weeks of therapy… still the memories haunt.  

I was surprised to find myself here… searching for something but having no idea what. I just wanted to feel love… hell, the ability to FEEL love. I need something to awaken this in me… Perhaps I was destined to wander, forever searching and reaching for something that would elude me. 

As I sipped my tonic, wishing I hadn’t given up drinking, the hinges on the door were summoned to do their job… the squeak filling the small bar.  I turned my head instinctively… in she walked

As I stood beneath the haphazard neon sign above the door, I already knew I didn’t want to be here.  But after the day I’ve had, anywhere is better than where I’ve just come from. 

Watching your best friend marry the love of your life isn’t exactly covered in any self help book. So I did what any self-respecting woman would do in my shoes.

I ran.

I watched the wedding guests spill into the reception hall, then slipped away. I ran to my car, started the engine and drove. I kept driving until I ended up here, far enough away that I won’t bump into anyone from the wedding, but close enough to the motel where I’m staying.

The thing is, I don’t even know if it was love or just infatuation. Maybe I’d spent so many years wanting him that I’d forgotten the difference. All I know is that they’d both been my friends since elementary school. We grew up together, scraped our knees together, survived awkward teenage years together.

And somehow, I still ended up on the outside, watching the two of them choose each other.

I feel quite literally jilted by them both.

I don’t want to go back to the motel.  I don’t want to be alone.  I don’t want to give myself the opportunity to cry.

So here I am, standing in front of this dead end bar in a bridesmaid dress.  I groan,

“you’re such a fucking idiot”

I try to pull together what little dignity I have left.  I open the door and with a resigned sigh I step in

I watch as she seemingly glides across the tattered floor. Her lavender dress hugging her perfectly in the hips and swaying effortlessly everywhere else, a light shawl draped over her shoulders. She must have come from something fancy given the style of dress and shoes, but her face told a different story. She had sadness behind all her beauty… but that beauty was still evident.

I caught myself staring and quickly looked down at my drink trying to focus back on my own torment.

I’d been searching for answers for so long that I had forgotten the question…

I looked up again and caught her in the corner of my eye. For a second I was lost in what-ifs… what would happen if I just went up and said hi… what would happen if I asked her if she was ok… what would happen if I told her that she was the most beautiful woman I had seen since my wife passed… what would happen…

Rather than find out… I started to slip back into my own self hatred… “No…” I resolved to myself that this wasn’t how I was going to find my way back… I needed to take some sort of stand… become the man I was just six years ago, before I had been broken… 

I stood up and walked over to her… trying my best to not be too eager or too aloof… 

“Hi, my name is Mike… I couldn’t help but notice… is everything alright?”

I’ve only been in this god forsaken place all of five minutes when he wanders over to me.

“Is everything alright?”

Seriously?

Are we really doing this right now?

I start tugging irritably at the corsage still pinned to my wrist, ripping petals free one by one.

“Well no, “My name is Mike”, everything is definitely not alright. I’m wearing a dress that’s two sizes too small, my feet are being flayed by these shoes, my car is practically running on fumes after getting me to..wherever the hell I am, and apparently I CAN’T GET SERVED AROUND HERE.”

I raise my voice without meaning to. The bartender glances over, scowls, and deliberately turns his back on me.

I laugh once, bitterly.

“So, whatever it is you want, I’m not interested.”

The words land harder than I intend. The stranger’s expression drops, the light smile disappearing from his face.

God.

I’m such a dick.

Without a word, he starts to turn away, heading back to whatever corner of the bar he’s come from.

“No..sorry, wait,” I blurt.

He looks back at me, and for the first time I really see his face. All I can see is sadness.

It’s like looking into a mirror.

“I’m sorry,” my voice softer now. “It’s been a rough day.”

I glance at the bartender, who is still determined to ignore me, and I let out a small, humourless laugh.

“Please..let me buy you a drink.”

I stood there, unsure of how that turned so quickly… but relieved at how it ended… “I’d appreciate that.. Tonic with lime, please.” 

As vicious as that started, I could see the kindness and a vivid vibrance in her eyes… all hidden behind a layer of pain and anger. 

I saw the side-eye from the bartender as he slammed my drink down on the bar. He’s just pissed that the drinks aren’t more expensive… there goes his tip… 

“I’d like to apologize… normally I wouldn’t have come up to anyone in a random bar… let alone someone like you. But, I just couldn’t help myself.” I paused and took a sip… hoping the words would come to me… why was this so fucking hard…

“I know you said you’re not interested… but I’m not selling anything… and I’m not buying anything… what I am is someone who is generally interested in whomever picked out that dress.” 

I smiled… hoping the vague attempt at humor would cut through the tension.

I frown, this was definitely not what I signed up for today.

And yet..

I purse my lips as he takes a sip of his tonic and lime.  Of course it’s tonic and lime.  He has the look of a man who buys sensible drinks and never forgets to pay his taxes.  Give him a bit less of that haunted look and he might even be considered as kind of cute.

“I was at a wedding”.

He waits.

“The wedding of Mr and Mrs Kilborn”

I catch the curious look on his face as I roll my eyes.

“..Yeah, exactly”.

I stare back down into my matching glass of tonic.

“Have you ever been in love Mike?”

I take another sip… really wishing this was four fingers of bourbon… didn’t think I’d be getting into this tonight…

“Yes… yes I’ve been in love… I lost my wife six years ago, cancer. She fought for a long time… hell we fought for a long time… but it wasn’t enough. I stopped drinking after that… the last sip was the day she left.”

I could feel her soften as she took in my words…

“Please don’t feel sorry for me. We had a great life together. I know she wouldn’t want me acting like this… like this shell of my old self… but I miss the spark she gave me.. The vibrance we had.”

I looked at the woman in front of me. Her gaze had settled from the fire when she first entered to a much calmer presence… but the vibrance burned beneath the surface… I couldn't help but notice how breathtaking she was. 

Her delicate features presenting absolute femininity and grace… but sadly her aura was of someone trying to hide within themselves but doing a terrible job… I could sense the passion, the desire to emerge, but something was holding her back.

“I take it the wedding was not where you wanted to be?”

I wasn’t expecting that.

And suddenly my own problems feel small.  I’m most certainly not going to unload all my misery onto him after that revelation.

My eyes drift around the bar until I find what I am looking for.

“C’mon”

He frowns at me quizzically

“C’mon, get up”

Before he can argue, I grab his hand and pull him to his feet.  His face meets mine and I’m suddenly aware of how close we are.  I stare at his jawline slightly before dragging him to the battered old pool table in the corner.  I press a cue in his hand.

“You win, you can have as much lime and tonic AND jukebox privileges for the rest of the night, my treat”.

I pick up another queue and point it at him.

“But if I win, we’re finding something a lot stronger to put in them drinks”.

For the first time since we’d met, I saw what looked like a real smile.  I smile back.

“I’m Casey, by the way”.

“Well, Casey, it’s a pleasure to meet you. By the way, prepare yourself, because I am TERRIBLE at pool.”

I racked the balls and rolled the cue ball over to Casey. I chalked the cue absentmindedly… watching her move around the table. Watching the pool cue slide through her fingers as she lined up her shot. The slight bounce in her chest as she cracked the cue ball sending everything flying… three balls on the break…

“Fuck me… so, should I order those drinks now or do you just want to humiliate me?”

Your chuckle brought a smile to my face. The first one in quite some time. 

Something about this woman… 

I watched as you absolutely crushed me. The only high point was watching you line up your shots… watching you from across the table, getting low to see the line, focusing on the angles, striking with purpose. Watching you from behind, that dress perfectly hugging you… You said two sizes too small… I say absolutely perfect.  

Without a word you drop the eight ball…

“Alright… I’m a man of my word… I’m buying the drinks. But, tell me, why was this wedding so bad?”

I don’t know if he let me win or if he was genuinely that bad, but a victory’s a victory.. I guess.

Either way, something a lot stronger than tonic and lime was definitely about to make an appearance.

I knew I wasn’t imagining it. He’d been looking at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I could almost feel it, a warmth prickling across my skin.

Maybe he was undressing me with his eyes.

Maybe he was just admiring the view.

Or maybe, Casey, it’s all in your damned head!

..Did I even want him to look at me that way?

The thought was cut short when he asked about the wedding.

I drew in a slow breath.

“The man I always thought I’d marry..” I paused, staring down at the pool cue in my hands. “He married my best friend instead.”

The words sounded strangely hollow once they were out in the open.

I forced a small shrug.

“It’s no matter. It’s done now.”

He didn’t say a word, he must think I’m an idiot.  I put the cue in its designated home.  

“It’s time for those drinks”.

I absorbed what she said… fuck that must be hard. My wife WAS my best friend… and I had lost her. I imagined this was like losing two..

I walked up to the bar and tried to get his attention, “Hey, we’d like to order another round.” 

He shot back with a look of daggers… apparently tonic and lime wasn’t his preferred drink to serve. I mumbled to myself, ‘Your tips are only getting smaller..’ 

I looked at the bar’s selection and saw it… “I’ll take a double Four Roses, neat.” I looked over at this woman who seemed to be humoring me and grinned… “Make it two.”

The bartender immediately perked up… nothing like a quick $50 tab to raise your spirits…

We sat at a high top close to the pool table. A quick clink of glasses signified it was time to enjoy. 

The first sip of liquor I had consumed in six years. I savored the taste… the slight burn… the warmth… I was transported back to that night. Sitting alone in a hotel room… I couldn’t sleep in our bed… too many memories… too much pain. Alone with a bottle of the same liquor… full… a third gone…. Half gone… just a drop left… I drank, I cried, I cursed, I grew to hate. 

As I pictured the room… the windows… the bed… the TV… a reflection appeared. It was hers… Standing in that dress… perfectly imperfect. In my mind I reached out to caress her skin, but I couldn’t reach. I wanted nothing more in that moment to feel her against my body… to make her feel that she wasn’t alone in this world… that she would find love and friendship… sometimes in a place you’d never expect.

I blinked and was back in that shithole bar with this beautiful person. 

I took her features in again… letting my thoughts drift, perhaps too far… we locked eyes for just a moment… I felt her staring at me, rather than through me like everyone else the past six years… all feeling pity for me. But not her. She was seeing me…

My eyes fell… unable to keep the intensity of her gaze, even if for that brief moment. As I looked down I saw her glass was already empty… 

“Damn… guess I need to catch up.” I slammed my drink back. “Bartender, two more.”

I watch him as he drifts somewhere deep into his own thoughts, the drink taking the sharp edges off my misery.

Instead of interrupting, I take the opportunity to stare.

The top button of his shirt has come undone at some point, exposing just enough of the skin beneath to be distracting. His brow was furrowed, his expression caught somewhere between sadness and contemplation.

And it’s doing something ridiculous to me.

No.

What are you doing?

I should look away.

I don’t.

Instead, I find myself willing him to look up. To meet my eyes.

Please.

Just once.

As if he’d heard the thought, his gaze lifts and locks with mine.

The feeling hits me instantly, a jolt races through my chest and settles somewhere beneath my ribs.

But it’s over almost as quickly as it began.

He says something I don’t catch. Whatever it is, it seems to come with a decision. He pushes his chair back and starts to stand.

Panic flares unexpectedly.

I can’t lose this.

Not yet.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s today’s trauma catching up on me.  But, before I can think better of it, before common sense has a chance to intervene, I reach for him.

I kiss him.

The kiss came out of nowhere…

Her lips are as soft as I had imagined, while the pressure is perfect. I can smell the bourbon on her, but just below a heavenly scent that I just can’t place. 

Instinctively, I raise my hands to embrace her but I stop. I’m so confused. I am so torn. I am so… 

I feel the pressure start to lessen and I push forward. Fuck it…

I wrap her in a full embrace, bringing her beautiful figure tight to my own body. The awkwardness that I had initially felt melts away. Every improper thought I had about Casey coming back into my mind. All the glances from across the bar… undressing her with my eyes during her kicking my ass at pool… the image of her gliding into the bar in that dress… the image of her in the hotel mirror…

I ease up on the embrace and the pressure lessens. I caress her back as I step away slightly, catching her gaze, I search her eyes for approval… for pity… for lust… for hate… anything. 

I see no pity in her eyes, but I also no longer see sadness. I see that same glint of vibrance from when she was admonishing me during our first encounter. I see passion. 

Silence… I know what NOT to say… but what to say is entirely different…

I step forward again, wanting to resume… wanting to take in that scent… feel your lips… feel you against me… Hoping you want the same… hoping you don’t pull back. 

The second my lips touch his, I regret it.  Not because I don’t want to kiss him.

Because I do.

God help me, I really do.

But for one terrifying heartbeat, I expect him to pull away. To stare at me like I’ve completely lost my mind. To remind me that we’ve known each other for all of two hours and that I was halfway to drunk.

Instead, he kisses me back as I feverishly open my mouth to his.

His hesitation lasts only a moment before his arms wrap around me, pulling me against him.  And suddenly I’m not standing in a rundown bar anymore.  I’m not thinking about wedding receptions or motel rooms or the years I’ve spent wanting someone who never chose me.  I’m not thinking about heartbreak.

I’m not thinking at all.

I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my hands as he holds me tight to him.  And the rise of something else much lower..

It has been so long since someone touched me with intention.  So long since I’d wanted someone to.  Fuck I’m turned on.

When the kiss finally softens, neither of us move very far.  I can still feel his breath.  I can still smell his earthy scent.  I can still feel the ghost of his hands against my back.

I open my eyes and find him watching me, searching me.

For what I’m not entirely sure.

Permission?

Understanding?

A reason to stop?

Neither of us say a word as the silence stretches between us, charged and fragile.

He takes a small step forward.

Not enough to corner me.

Just enough to tell me exactly what he wants.  

And I want it too..

My heart stumbles.

This is reckless.

Ridiculous!

…Exactly the kind of mistake I should avoid.

A grieving widower and a woman who has fled a wedding.  What could possibly go wrong?  The answer is probably everything.

I look at him anyway.  At the uncertainty he is trying so hard to hide.  At his hope.

And for the first time all day, I don’t feel abandoned.  I feel seen.

A slow smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“You’re overthinking this, Mike.”

My fingers curl into the front of his shirt.

I pull him back to me.

I see the smile form slightly on her face and my hopes are confirmed. I can see the desire written on her face. We both want this… perhaps for different reasons… or maybe for the same… Honestly it doesn’t matter. I see this woman for who she is. A beautiful soul… a strong and confident person who has had misfortune trying to hold her back… someone who is desperately trying to let that all go… Someone who is going to succeed.

Her fingers curling into my shirt snap me out of my own head… her pulling me back into her woke me up.

Our lips crashed together… 

The pain of the last six years seemed to fade… I felt hope… hope that the loneliness since my wife passed was over. Hope that had not been felt in nearly a decade. This woman… this woman had renewed me… even if it only lasted for a minute, I was determined to make that minute count. 

I pulled her tightly to me. Our bodies tangled together, hands finding new places to explore, nearly forgetting we were in a shitty dive bar in the middle of nowhere. 

I wanted her… and I was almost certain she felt the same… I was tired of overthinking everything. I was tired of living in the past.  I was tired of hating the world. I just wanted to love again. 

Perhaps this wouldn’t be love… just lust… but I needed to start somewhere… 

Just ask the question... What’s the worst that could happen… just as the fucking question…

“Casey, I have a room up the road.  Spend the night with me?” 

Spend the night with me?

Of all the things I expected him to say, it wasn’t that, and for a moment, I just stare at him.

Not because I’m offended but because part of me had been thinking the same thing.

I feel myself smiling, a real smile.  The kind I hadn’t felt capable of a few hours ago.  I look at the man standing in front of me. The man who has walked into my disaster of a day and somehow made me forget about it. The man carrying enough hurt to rival my own.

Maybe this entire night was going to be nothing more than two broken people colliding in the dark.  But for once, I didn’t want to pause on it.

I didn’t want to think about forever.

I just want now.

My gaze drifts briefly around the bar.  The stained floor, the battered pool table, the bartender pretending not to watch us.  The same four walls that have witnessed both of us trying desperately to outrun ourselves.

I laugh softly and shake my head.

“You know, Mike..”

I reach down and take his hand.

His fingers immediately tighten around mine.

“..you are really bad at asking questions.”

A look of uncertainty crosses his face.

I don’t give him a chance to overthink.  Instead, I drag him by the hand to the door.

“C’mon.”

I pull him through the maze of tables and empty chairs.  The bartender raises an eyebrow as we pass.

I salute him with my free hand.

“Thanks for eventually serving me!”

He responds with a grunt.

The door creaks as I push it open.  And the cool night air rushes over us.

The moon hangs low and bright above us, washing the parking lot in silver light. Somewhere in the distance, crickets are singing in the darkness.

For the first time all day, everything feels still.

I turn back toward Mike.

The moonlight softens the lines of grief etched across his face. He no longer seems so heavy.

Neither of us speak.  We don’t need to.

I squeeze his hand and step closer.  

“I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow,” I admit quietly.

My thumb brushes across his knuckles.

“And honestly?”

I glance up at him.

“Tonight, I don’t think I care.”

The confession hangs between us.

Honest and terrifying.

“Show me this room up the road, Mike.”

He gently pulls us past the line of cars and we disappear into the night.. 

Walking up to the hotel, a purposeful silence fell between the two of us. It had been so long for me… so long since even thinking about being with someone, but here I was with a woman who made me feel things I thought had been lost in my life.  Someone who understood the pains that we deal with from the day-to-day but hadn’t yet quit.   

As I pulled the key out of my pocket I felt calm falling over me. I felt peace… I felt whole…I felt as though my mourning the last six years was enough and I could move on.  As I reached out to touch the card to the reader, I turned my head to the right and saw her looking at me.

Those eyes… those eyes filled with a vibrant fire. The sorrow I had seen earlier was gone, the passion burning, the desire evident.  

It seemed impatience had crept in as she bit her lip and looked at me knowingly.  I swept the card, heard the click, and pushed open the door.  

She smirked at me, leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. She stepped into the room first, I saw her arms raise up behind her back and the zipper on her dress fall. Two more steps in, and I saw the pile of cloth on the ground. The light tone of her bare back and nude bottom seemingly glowing. The clack of her heels suddenly stopped as she stepped deeper into the darkness. I saw her turn, the light casting inside just enough to make out the outline of her perfect breast. She held out her hand, inviting me in. 

I took a breath.

I calmed myself.

I knew this was the end of one chapter and the start of the next. 

I stepped into the darkness and closed the door behind.