Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology #1)(16)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

“What did you say to him?”

“Say to him? Nothing. I left so he didn’t see me.” Wow. I sounded like a coward saying it.

“Why?”

I went with the honest answer. “Because I didn’t want to deal with it.”

Macon stepped into my room. “Because you actually like him.”

“Why does this matter to you?” I pulled up my legs under me. “Why do you care whether I call Colin?”

“Because I’d like to see you do something that makes you happy.”

“I’m always happy.”

Macon busted out laughing. “Oh yeah. Always.”

“Cut me a break, Macon. I’ve had an awful year.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you should continue it. Eventually, you’re going to have to snap out of this ‘woe is me’ crap and move on with life.”

“Says the guy working at a dive shop.” Sometimes Macon’s hypocrisy made me want to scream.

He sat down next to me. “It’s only temporary.”

“So is bartending.”

He turned so he could look at me. “But what’s it temporary until? You love plans. I don’t believe you don’t have one.”

“I don’t. Maybe that’s the point. I don’t want to have one.”

“Because you’re too afraid to find one,” he mumbled. He knew he was treading thin ice.

“You don’t understand what it’s like.”

“Sure I do, Maddy. Life didn’t work out exactly as you planned. You’re not going to med school. You’re not marrying some ambitious guy, planning out how many perfect children you want to have. That pisses you off. I get that.”

“You don’t get it.” I leaned back against my pillows. “I’m tired of sucking.”

“Oh, stop the pity party.”

“The pity party?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t look good on you. If you really wanted to go to med school, you’d be signing up for that master’s program your parents found. But you’re not, because you don’t want to go. You just can’t handle that things aren’t going as planned. It burns you up.”

“I don’t honestly know what’s bothering me. I just feel lost.”

“We all feel lost sometimes.”

A smile broke through despite my mood. “You’re pretty sage for a guy who got a glass of water poured over his head.”

“I want you to snap out of this. I want Maddy back.”

“Glad I’ve been missed. I hadn’t even realized I’d gone anywhere.”

He leaned back next to me. “Oh, you’ve been gone.”

“And you honestly think calling Colin is going to bring me back?”

“No.”

“Okay, so everything you’ve said is pointless?”

“It’s not going to bring you back, but it’s at least a step. You’re acknowledging that you care about something—or rather someone.”

“I don’t think I can handle him telling me he met someone. It’s more rejection.”

“And rejection is worse than never knowing?”

“Yes. Rejection hurts. You wouldn’t know that.”

“Oh yeah? Because I’ve never been rejected?”

“Have you?” I couldn’t imagine Macon ever being rejected. He was the golden boy and eye candy rolled into one.

He looked away. “Yes.”

“When?”

“More times than you want to know, but this isn’t about me.”

“I’m not calling Colin, but maybe I’ll keep dating.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Why not?”

“That’s just trying something new again. That’s different than putting in the effort toward something.”

“First dates take effort. I extend more effort picking out clothes and going through possible conversation topics than I spend on the next ten dates combined.”

“Ever think that’s part of the problem?”

“What’s part of the problem?”

“You put so much energy in the beginning and then lay off. Life’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

I put my arms behind my head to prop myself up more. “No you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Go there with the ‘life is a marathon’ metaphor.”

“Oh, I did. I definitely went there. It’s a good metaphor.”

“Well, then I better get training.” I got up and began shooing Macon toward the door.

“At least think about what I said.”

“I will. I’ll even go shopping for new running shoes.”

“Make sure to get a warranty on them—you never know when you’re going to need it.”

“I don’t even know how that fits the metaphor, but I’ll pretend I do.”

“You know what? I’m not leaving.” He flopped down on my bed again. “You woke me up and soaked my bed. I’m going back to sleep while you find your way.”

“Fine. I’m going for a walk.”

“Good for you. Take it slow.”

I hit him with a pillow. “No more marathon metaphors.”

“Fine. I have plenty of other metaphors to try out next.”

“You are such a loser sometimes.”

“Some people would call me a caring friend, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Good, because it’s all you’re getting.”

Chapter Seven

I went back to the basics the next Thursday night. I made Lyle a highball. Maybe I was making things too complicated. Some people were more basic with their drink selections. They wanted the strong taste without too much interfering. My next attempt would be a whiskey up, but maybe he was a ginger ale guy. I would have pegged Lyle to be into the more complicated mixtures, but he was turning out to be a lot harder to read than I expected.

Brody and Macon sat in their usual spots as I stared at Lyle from the distance. He was wearing a red t-shirt with a faded emblem I couldn’t make out. If it were someone else I would have assumed he bought it that way, but with Lyle it seemed more likely that he wore it and washed it so much that it wore out.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering with Lyle. I heard you and Ralph had a good time.” Brody sipped his Coke.

“Do you want me mad at you?” I’d already let Brody have it for his participation in the event. He didn’t get the ‘water poured over his head’ treatment, but that didn’t mean he was off the hook.