Everyone in the entire bar seems to stop what they’re doing and turn to look at him.
And I mean, I can’t blame them. I’m staring too. He’s very easy on the eyes, and I swear he gets even more attractive every time I see him.
He has a deep tan—must have been working outside again—and he’s tall as fuck. I’m thinking six-foot-four or so, but I’ve never asked.
He’s absolutely covered in tattoos, and his long, light brown hair is pulled back in his signature man bun.
And then there’s his smile that could make a nun question her life choices.
He’s holding his motorcycle helmet under his arm.
Oh my god, I forgot he rides a motorcycle. Kill me now.
I blush and shake my head as he approaches me.
Hopping off my bar stool, I turn to face him, and he wraps me in a bear hug.
It’s a long hug with a little bit of twisting, and I feel my bones crack in a good way. I never want to let him go.
Dex has always been an epic hugger, ever since I was little. I think he builds a little bit of chiropractor stuff into his squeezes, because I always come away from his crushing feeling a little more aligned and a lot warmer than I was before.
“Gosh, he says,” looking me up and down. “You’re looking great, Marg! How long’s it been, like 6 years? And what’s this flowery stuff you’ve got on, eh? I thought you hate flowers.” He grins at me. “You look good in it, though.”
I blush, suddenly self-conscious. I’m still dressed in my corporate work clothes, although I try to keep it as business casual as possible without breaching the dress code. But work slacks and a flowery top with cap sleeves are definitely not my preferred look.
“Oh thanks,” I say, swiping a loose strand of hair from my face. I gesture at my outfit. “You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do in thesecorporate gigs.” I glance at him again and feel a little shy when he catches me staring. “Um, you look good, too. Really good.”
The words make me blush again. He’s wearing a leather jacket over a collared plaid shirt, and gray jeans of the skinny kind which cling to his giant quads and highlight his… um.. package. “And yeah, I think it must have been six years. Have you talked to Danny recently?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, he’s off doing his thing. I try not to bother him, and stay out of the drama. You know what he’s like.”
“Oh, I definitely do.”
My brother Danny is the reason Dex and I know each other.
Danny’s a lot older than me, and he and Dex grew up together in New Zealand in the same small neighborhood after Dex’s dad got a work transfer from the US.
They were really close as kids, but I guess after a certain amount of time around my brother, Dex started to see his true colors. Which is fair enough, because I’ve distanced myself from him too, and only engage in polite exchanges around the holidays.
It helps being in a totally different country and in a different time zone.
Eventually, Dex moved back stateside, where I’ve found myself, too, and he occasionally reaches out to see what I’m doing. But he’s right, time flies. It really must have been a full six years since I last saw him.
“Well, it’s so good to see you, Margaux, truly,” says Dex, and I find myself getting lost in his eyes.
The amount of times I thought about him when I was growing up, even though he was old enough to be… well, a lot older than me, but not old enough to be my dad, at least. Still, I know the only reason he showed an interest in me was because he was friends with my older brother, and he’s someone who knows how to be polite.
I blush and inwardly cringe as I remember forcing him and my brother to sit through many awkward dance performances put on by me and my friends.
God, I’m lucky he gives me the time of day anymore now that he’s not obligated.
Pamela walks past, and I catch her winking at me from behind the bar. She can feel it, too. There’s always been a chemistry between us, some kind of connection.
But Dex would never cross that line.
Even though my brother Danny is far from perfect, Dex operates by a code of honor.
He wouldn’t hit on his best friend’s kid sister.