Free The Impostor, A Love Story by Tiffany Carmouche

help.” Brad
patted Dylan on the back and walked back to the bar.
    When he got back to the bar, I touched his
face, wiping the blood off his lip. “You okay?”
    He nudged my hand away, maybe embarrassed
that he got sucker punched. “I’m fine now that all the excitement
is over.” He wiped his face with his sleeve. “What can I get you?”
The blood stained his white shirt.
    “You sure you’re okay?”
    “Let’s not talk about it, Nicole.” Bradley
put the napkins on the bar. “Now that we got rid of him, it should
a good night, right?” Brad changed the subject.
    “Yeah, it’s packed in here,” I responded.
“Can I have another round—eight shots and eight beers?” I glanced
back up at him. “Bradley.”
    He looked over the glasses.
    “Thank you.” I smiled.
    As he proceeded to open the beers, Dylan
walked up behind me.
    “What are you doing, following me?” I
joked.
    “If I follow you home, will you take me
in?”
    “Seems like you already have someone willing
to do that.” I nodded over at the girl drooling at his table.
    Dylan turned to Bradley. “Yeah, Brad. That’s
why I’m here. Can you call and reserve a hotel room for me?”
    “Oh, wow. She must be special. I’m surprised.
Not the couch in the band’s apartment tonight?” I sassed.
    “No, I don’t want a hotel room for that. It’s
nothing like that. I just want to be alone.”
    “Alone? Are you sick?” I raised my eyebrow.
Dylan ignored my comment.
    Brad came to his rescue. “You can crash at my
place if you like tonight. You don’t have to get a hotel. I have to
say, though, I’m concerned too. This is a few weeks now you have
been avoiding the late-night parties. You feeling okay?”
    “Maybe meaningless sex got old.” Dylan winked
at me to let me know he had been listening to our little talk in
Seward.
    He observed the drinks on the tray. “Hey, you
didn’t get one for yourself. Let me buy one for you and Brad.
Tequila?”
    “Uh, no,” Brad and I said in unison, smiling
at each other. “How about a kamikaze?” I asked. “But just one. It’s
packed in here, so I have to run.” I put down my tray for a moment,
and we raised our glasses.
    “To meaningful sex,” Dylan toasted, winking
at me again.
    “To meaningful sex.” I shook my head at the
toast, holding my glass up for a moment longer. “And to my guardian
angels.” We clanged our glasses together and downed the shots.
    “Thank you, Dylan, for the drink. And thank
you both for getting rid of that creep.”
    “Yeah, what was that about?” Dylan signaled
him for another drink. “I forgot you were a south paw, Brad.” I
left the two of them to talk as I took the drinks to the rest of
the band and the girls at their table.
    “Check please?” Justin raised his hand to get
it.
    “Here you go. Thanks for your help getting
rid of those guys.”
    “We’re always up for a good fight.” He
motioned to Dylan that it was time to go, but Dylan stayed at the
bar with Brad. I was surprised. I thought Dylan would never turn
down an easy one-night stand with a sexy blond. What was it that
Brad said? Dylan hadn’t been messing around for a few weeks? I
couldn’t believe it. But I had noticed something a little different
also.
    I glanced over at the bar hoping Dylan
wouldn’t notice me checking him out. Just then, he turned around
and our eyes met. I quickly jerked my head away and began walking
away rapidly, only to smash into an unsuspecting customer—spilling
his drink all over him. I apologized, telling him I’d get him a new
drink and asked for forgiveness over and over, bowing my head in
shame.
    Damn . I lifted my eyes to see the two
of them at the bar, laughing in my direction. They had witnessed my
collision. Feeling utterly ridiculous, I retreated to Emily’s
section and begged her to go to the bar for my order. I couldn’t
face them yet.
    “You can’t avoid them forever,” she rubbed
in.
    “Em, you have no idea. They saw me slam right
into