Audrey — Chapter 2 : Mistake or Worth it?

Looking back, I do realize I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Impulsive ones. Stupid ones. The kind that make you wake up at three in the morning and groan into your pillow. But sometimes? Living in the moment feels worth it. My problem is I tend to stay in those moments way too long.

~

“Drunk idiot.” Max sighs so loud it could pass for a death rattle.
Mindy’s practically crying with laughter while I crouch down to check the guy’s ID.

Evans Carter.
Even his picture looks good, which is unfair, because most IDs make you look like a prison escapee. Mine? I look like a witch who curses traffic cops for fun.

“Audrey,” Max says.
“Mm?” I hum, not looking up.
“Call John and Casey. Get this one carried out before he decides the floor’s his mattress.”
“Oh, come on, Max. He just passed out. It’s not even closing time yet.”
“Exactly. Which is why I don’t want him drooling here all night.”
I smirk. “Sure. But if you kick him out now, how do you plan on getting paid?”

That makes him pause. Money always does.
He sighs. “Fine. Couch. At least move him where people don’t have to step over him.”
“What people?” I glance around the nearly empty bar. Charles and his creepy buddy are the only ones left, nursing their drinks like gargoyles. “Our VIP clientele?”
Max gives me that look.
“Alright, alright.” I hold up my hands. “I’ll call John. We’ll move your precious drunk before he stains the floor.”
“Thank you.” Max sighs again, dramatic as always.

The guy’s out cold for a while. A couple customers wander in, I serve drinks, chat with Mindy, and every so often we glance over at him, still dead to the world on the couch like a log.
Eventually he stirs, blinking up at the ceiling, shaking his head like he’s trying to remember what planet he’s on. Country music twangs from the speakers as his eyes dart around, totally lost.

I grab a glass of water and head over.
“Wakey wakey, sunshine,” I say.
“Uh… hi?” He looks at me, confused.
“Don’t remember who I am?” I tease.
“I—well—” he stammers, still trying to piece it together.
“Relax,” I laugh. “I’m just the bartender. You drank yourself stupid and passed out for a while.”
“Oh.” He looks completely dumbfounded.
“Rough night?” I ask.
“You could say that,” he mutters.
“Here. Hydrate before you collapse again.” I hand him the glass.
“Thanks,” he says, taking a sip.

And of course, right on cue, Max shows up.
“Now that you’ve enjoyed our hospitality,” he says, “you don’t mind paying for it, do you?”
Jesus. This man and his timing. I shake my head.

“Huh? Yes, sir.” The guy fumbles for his wallet immediately.
“Audrey,” Max says, looking at me. “Get the bill. Charge him extra for using the bar as a hotel.” Then, to the guy: “You don’t mind, right?”
“I—uh—yeah, whatever it is, I’ll pay.”
Max just smiles that smug little smile and walks away.

The guy, Evans, hands me a card. It’s odd. Not a card I’ve ever seen before. But whatever. I take it and head back to run the payment.
After I run the payment, the guy takes his card back.
“Thanks for the water,” he says.
“Oh, it’s fine.”
He rubs his temple. “I don’t really remember much of… any of this. What even happened?”
“You were drunk as fuck, that’s what happened.”
“Yeah, that explains the headache,” he mutters.

I watch him pull his brown jacket on, still looking half out of it. I smirk. “Hold up.”
He blinks at me as I duck into the breakroom, grab the aspirin bottle, and come back. I shake two into my hand and pass them over.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“Aspirin. Might help with the whole ‘my brain is splitting in half’ thing.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“Audrey,” I say, nodding at him.
“Evans.”
“I know,” I shoot back.

He looks at me, a little surprised, then turns and heads for the door.

~

The next day is the same old story. No customers. Max grumbling about how they’ll show up “any minute now.” Mindy glued to her phone, flirting with some guy who probably thinks she’s a model. The only silver lining? Charles and his pervy sidekick don’t make an appearance.

“Less creeps to deal with,” I say.
“Aww, missing them?” Mindy grins.
“Sure, if I feel like puking.”

Honestly, weekdays here aren’t terrible. The pay’s decent, shifts are quieter, and Max somehow keeps the place running off the weekend rush. But bartending forever? Not happening.

I’m mid-thought when the door swings open. A guy walks in, and I look up, then freeze.

Evans.
Except not Evans-from-last-night. This Evans is upright, sober, in a clean jacket and jeans. Hair combed, face awake. The kind of glow-up that makes you wonder if you hallucinated the drunk mess from before.

I glance down at myself, same black bartender dress I wear every night here. Still hot, I think, adjusting my posture as he heads straight for me.
“Evening, Audrey.”
I look up. “Evans, right?”
He smirks. “Glad you remember.”
“Hard to forget the guy who passed out on my floor. You look… less tragic tonight.”
“Thanks. I clean up well when I’m not competing for town drunk of the year.”
“Uh-huh. So what do you want? Drink? Or just here to nap again?”
He leans on the counter, all fake casual. “Actually, I came to thank the bartender who saved me with water and aspirin.”
I arch a brow. “Cute. But Max doesn’t let anyone loiter. Buy something or he’ll have you tossed.”

Evans glances at Max glaring from across the room. “Whiskey, then. On the rocks.”
“Good choice.” I pour, slide it over. “So… now that you’ve paid your entry fee, what’s on your mind?”
“You.”
I snort. “Wow. Straight to it, huh? Gonna try to pick me up with that line?”
“Not trying. Just talking. I’m interested.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re wasting your time. I’m not exactly fascinating.”
“For me, you are.”

I hate it. I hate how smooth he sounds. I hate how he’s looking at me like I’m the only one in the room. And most of all, I hate that it’s working.
“I’m not interested,” I tell him flat.
He smirks. “You sure about that? Give me a chance.”
“To the guy who face-planted in my bar?”
“Fair point. Not my best night. But I’m better company sober.”
“Uh-huh. Do you toss these lines at every girl?”
“Only the ones worth it.”
“Oh, wow. I’m swooning.”

He sips his whiskey, eyes on me like I’m the only thing in the room. “Hazel eyes. Gorgeous.”
I bark out a laugh. “Wow, straight from the Hallmark aisle.”
He laughs too, and for a second it almost feels real. I catch Mindy watching from the side, practically drooling.
“Maybe hit on her instead,” I say, nodding toward her.
He doesn’t even glance over. “She didn’t hand me water and aspirin.”

Okay. That was smooth. I hate that it was smooth.
“Kindness’ll get you in trouble,” I say. “World doesn’t exactly reward it.”
“Still. You did it.”

This guy is trouble. I can feel it. So I change lanes.
“So what was with the blackout? Breakup? Bar fight?”
“Drama,” he says simply. Then, after a pause: “Couldn’t ignore it.”
“I get that.”
His eyes flick back to mine. “Can’t ignore you either.”

And there it is again, too direct, too confident, and way too effective.
“Listen,” I cut in. “This little flirting thing? Cute. But I’m not interested.”
He grins like he didn’t even hear me. “We’d look good together.”
I snap, “Evans, not in a million years.”

~

And yet, look at me now. Judge away. Hell, I’m judging myself.
It’s morning. I’m naked. And next to me? Evans Carter, fast asleep like he owns the place.

Don’t ask me how he talked me into it, because I honestly don’t know. I’ve made a lot of bad, impulsive choices. This one? Add it to the pile.
Was it worth it? The sex? Yeah. I’m not gonna lie.
But it’s never the sex that ruins you. It’s what comes after.

To Be Continued on Chapter 3