This is no big deal.

Checking myself in my rearview mirror, I flash a weak smile before. Flattening my brown wisps threatening to frizz, I close my eyes.

Melissa Miller, you are a 36-year-old woman who is fully capable of going on a date and you will have a good time.

It's been 14 years, what if–

Nope, not going there. Heading for the bar, I hold my bag close and lock my car several times. Opening the creaky door, I immediately decide this guy is not winning any brownie points for the location. It looks like I could get tetanus by sitting down.

Taking a seat at the bar with a perfect view of the door, I order a club soda. Just in case things go south and not in a good way.

A few minutes turn into thirty. Swirling my straw in my glass, I ignore the pitying look of the bartender as he cleans a glass with a towel I'm pretty sure was on the ground a second ago.

Online dating is a waste of time. No man I meet on some app will be worth it.

Counting the lonely patrons of the room, I force a smile at the young girl cozying up to a balding, plump man in a flannel. Not wanting to picture where her night is unfortunately going, I skip to the two construction workers playing pool and on their fourth pitcher of beer.

Finally, I land on the man hunched over at the other end of the bar with his head in his hands. A pint of beer sitting in front of him. He stares down at it, barely flinching until the bartender slaps the counter.

"Leave before I call someone."

Slowly, the man drags his gaze up. "Who the hell are you gonna call?"

It's not a challenge. It's a genuine, bitter question. Clearly the man expects the answer to be no one. Guessing by his unkempt black hair, 5 o'clock shadow and rumpled clothes with holes, he's probably right.

"Ricardo." I'm almost certain he flinches but the bartender flings the towel over his shoulder. "I owe too much to him to not, but I'm far too proud of you to just let you throw it away."

"How long's it been since the last time I sat on this stool, Adam?" The man asks, dropping his head back to his hands.

"A year and a few days, Johnny Boy."

"Don't call me that." He spits, gripping the mug. "The twins' birthday."

"Yeah." The guy says enthusiastically. "How old are they now, anyways?"

"Turned 13 two and a half weeks ago. I was in Japan; didn't get to see them."

Great. I've been stood up and I'm stuck listening to some recovering drunk whine about his custody issues. Someone get me some vodka and lime because this is painful.

"Only reason it's been so long is because Bean wouldn't let me come over 'till I stopped coming here." He drones on and I check my phone to see that my date is typing. Good, maybe I have the wrong venue. "Just like she didn't want me there today."

My phone buzzes and I read the text.

Something came up.

I need vodka. Now.

I don't spend my days surrounded by high schoolers and get a break just to spend it here. No, sir. This is my winter break and I deserve to get laid. Or at least drunk.

The sound of glass clattering in the back sends the bartender swearing. Running for the back, he hesitates. "You promise you won't drink that?"

The man simply gives a thumbs up and snort. Standing up, I grab my purse and head for the door when I watch him lift the beer to his lips and hesitate.

Maybe it's because I'm bitter my night sucked or because this man doesn't deserve to enjoy his vice when I'm not, but I find myself walking up to him, a scowl in place.

"You're not seriously going to drink that?"

His shoulders tense and I begin to panic when dark brown, red-rimmed eyes, belonging to a sharp, caramel colored face lock with my own. "Excuse me?"

Gulping in an attempt to wet my throat, I square my shoulders. "I said, you're not seriously going to drink that beer. It's been out longer than I've been here."

Running his eyes over me, he tilts his head. "Really?"

"I'm pretty sure I saw a fly land in it 20 minuets ago."

"So you were watching me?" He questions and my air supply stops.

"No." Shit. "Simply observing the room."

Nodding, he fully turns and leans his back against the bar. "In all of your observing, what inspired you to approach the lowlife, soon to be relapsed alcoholic?"

I... I don't know. Instead, I say the first thing that comes to mind. "I don't think you're a lowlife."

"Well, I'm here aren't I?" He gestures to this nasty bar and I almost take back my comment.

"The watch on your wrist would suggest otherwise." I nod to the Rolex somehow still glistening in this horrible lighting.

He offers a poor attempt at a grin as he eyes his watch. "This is coming from the woman who looks like my nightmare of a high school teacher."

My shoulders feel like a thousand pounds. "I am a high school teacher."

His face falls. "Shit." Glancing up to the ceiling, he mutters something under his breath before facing me again. "Let me guess, history?"

"English."

"Then you're a lot better than Ms. Hagen ever was." He offers and I don't smile.

"And I take it you're some asshole deserving of all the praise."

That pisses him off. "Actually, I own a company and just got back from building a series of orphanages in Asia."

Fuck. "Well then. An asshole that has a good soul."

"I also checked in on a few resorts I was building in the area, don't beat yourself up."

"Modesty looks so good on you." I offer dryly.

Before I can turn to go, he pats the seat next to him. "What brings you to a dump like this?"

"What brought you here?" I cross my arms.

He wags a finger. "I asked first."

Letting out a long breath, I slide onto the stool. "If you must know, I had a date."

He lets out a whistle. "How long has it been?"

"Since when?" I glare at him.

"Since you've gone out."

Closing my eyes, I dig my nails into my knee. My night has already gone to hell, spilling my guts out won't kill me if the bar hasn't. "15 years."

He lets out a swear, failing to keep his composure. "That's quite some dry spell."

"Yeah, well, my husband left me." I snap, the words hurting a little less than the last time I said them.

The sympathy, something I didn't think he was capable of, shows in his eyes and it makes me angry. Fuck sympathy.

"That... why'd he leave you?"

Chuckling, I shake my head. "Nope. I shared, now it's your turn. I hear you bitching about your custody issues."

"I don't have custody issues." He grumbles.

"Then explain the kids." I point to the worn from over folding picture of five kids with a man I'm assuming to be him dressed like Santa leaned up against the beer. "They're why you're here, right?"

"Not my kids." He grumbles, slipping back into a trance as I take in the other picture. A polaroid of a group of kids, defiantly not from this decade or the last. "They're half the reason I'm here though."

"Then explain the other picture."

Darkened eyes meet mine. "That's the other half of why I'm here tonight.

Tilting my head, I took him in. "And why are you here?"

"My best friends are dead." He points down to the older image, and I focus on a blonde girl hugging a buff guy with a goofy grin as his spare arm is thrown around a younger version of the man in front of me. "And my God-Children don't want to see me, and I don't blame them because it's clearly my fault."

"Shit, you saying stuff like that means I really am calling Ricardo." The bartender cuts in and I don't know how to react. I didn't plan on doing this tonight.

"How-how did you kill them?" I manage to ask and he tsks.

"Nope. Ladies first."

Scoffing, I grab my purse. "I don't spill my guts to strangers."

Spinning for the door, I'm cut off. "John Garcia, despite what I just said, I promise I won't murder you."

He lacks a smile, but I take it as a joke. Warily, I shake the hand extended my way. "Melissa Miller, I promise I'm not some crazy lady."

That earns a grin out of him, "Well, Mellissa, do you feel comfortable enough to confide in me now?"

With my hand stuck in his and our eyes glued together, I struggle to find words. "I suppose, but since I'm guessing shots are out of the question, I'm gonna need some greasy food to give me courage."

Suppressing a grin, he collects his pictures from the bar. "I know just the place."

*****

Twenty-five minutes later, my car is parked in an empty park. A bag of burgers and two shakes sitting on my center console.

Chuckling, I tear into a burger and unbuckle my seatbelt. "I guess I'm starting this sob fest?" John grunts with a mouth full of food and I think of something. "How... emotional are we getting?"

Swallowing, his face seems angelic illuminated by the lamp light. "As emotional as you feel comfortable with."

Gulping for air, I talk. "I met my ex-husband, Henry, when I was 14. He was 15 and we just–"

"Clicked." He offers and I nod.

"After he graduated, he went to college but halfway through his sophomore year he enlisted. He proposed right after he made the decision and we married right before his first tour. We didn't try for kids right away because I was in college. I wanted my degree and a good job. I refused to simply become a baby machine." That earns a smile. " But after 14 years, 4 tours and a lot of worry later. We were childless and he..." my throat stops the words from coming out.

"You don't have to–"

"Nope. It's my turn." I state. "He thought he deserved a family and I couldn't give that. So he got what he wanted from my half-sister. While we were still married, and I was none the wiser 'till that little pregnancy test came back positive in my own bathroom with me in the kitchen making tea."

The car is silent. Too silent. My students aren't even this quiet during a test.

"He sounds like a fucking idiot." John offers and I shrug, blinking back tears.

"That was 14 months ago. I moved here from Nevada and took an open teaching position at a charter school 25 minutes from here. Stupidly, I decided tonight was the night to get back out there and I got stood up so, that's why I was in that shit bar. Your turn." I take a giant bite out of my burger.

Eating feelings is never a bad idea.

Silence stretches out forever and I'm about to go insane when he sighs. "I met my best friend, Mateo, when we were 5. Kindergarten recess fight gone wrong. We got timeout and when his dad found out he started it, Mateo had to apologize and walk home with me every day for a week since we lived on the same street.

"Ten years later, he moved here from Miami. I didn't have a dad and my mom was more focused on where she would get her next hit from to give a shit about me, so, a year later, I moved up here to live with them. My real family. That's when I met Kat, to the public, Kitten to Matty Boy and Kitty  to me. If I thought Mateo was my best friend, then she was like my sister, best friend, mom and soul mate rolled into one. I couldn't understand why my best friend was into a chick who wouldn't have him but then I got it and naturally, I helped."

"You thought you were soul mates with your best friend's girlfriend?" I question, immediately covering my mouth. No talking, Melissa.

"Soulmates come in different forms. Kitty, she just understood me when no one else could. We had nothing in common except parents that didn't love us and a shared love for Matty and that bonded us."

Makes sense.

"To cut a long story short, they got together. I went to school with Kat while Mateo went to a different college for baseball. He got drafted in the first round and, with a portion of his signing bonus, he helped me find Gaea Corporations. A company determined to keep building new buildings and structures clean and give back." He begins to fiddle with his watch. "I try to open places like hotels that will benefit the local community and create lasting jobs. Kat was the reason I made the company green. She was, um, a bit of a hippy." He sorta smiles.

"My best friends got married and had five kids: Bean, Tater Tot, the Peas and Squirt." I must be showing how disgusted I am by those names because he lightly laughs, "Just nicknames, it's a long story. Anyways, I'm the Godfather who is always around and helping. They were my family."

His pause preps me for the inevitable pain coming. "Two years ago yesterday, I hosted a post-Christmas party simply because I could. I was a bachelor with money and a postponed flight for a vacation and all of my friends were in town. They didn't want to come out. Bean had a shitty boyfriend that caused them to fight and I begged them to. I guilted them into a night to drink with our high school pals." Oh no. "They came. They didn't drink. They drove back home. I got a call at 2 something in the morning because I was their emergency contact." He squeezes his eyes shut. "Drunk driver hit them head on."

Suddenly my burger doesn't taste so good.

"Matty didn't stand a chance but Kitty–" His voice breaks. "I sped all the way to their house and grabbed the kids and sped all the way to the hospital. We... we got there right as she flatlined. I watched her die and so did Bean and she was hysterical. I couldn't comfort her because in my head, all I could think about was what should've been." He slaps the dash. "We had brunch planned at the Opryland hotel in only a few hours, so I could distract her from her relationship issues and get her smiling again. They begged me to do it just like I begged them to come out. Instead, they died and it's my fault they weren't at home in the pj's watching Hallmark and listening to the kids bicker."

Blinking back my own tears, I handed him a napkin.

"I drank. I always loved alcohol but after that night, it just became a need. I couldn't breathe so I drank. I drank until I could barely do my job. I didn't know how to live without it, but I wasn't living. I didn't even try to get custody of the kids. I couldn't look at them without falling to pieces, reminded of what I took away from them. Especially since the oldest two look just like them." He blows his nose. "I think that's why it hurt so much when Bean refused to let me into their house to see the twins for their birthday. It broke me to see her turn me away with tears in her eyes. She seemed heartbroken and that killed me. What was even worse was the fact I didn't even notice who she had become in the almost year since I went off my rocker. So I went to my closest friend still living with a plan to drink some more and mope. He punched me in the jaw to sober me up and dumped my ass at a rehab facility."

"That's..." Horrible. Brutal. The worst way to do it.

"Life saving." He admits, sighing constantly. "After four months in there. I made it out for the oldest two's birthday and then I threw myself into my company. Did a six-month journey across Europe and Asia. I started new projects and mended relationships. Got back here last week. Saw my godchildren even more grown up and Bean with a boy in her room. I realized that while I was better, I needed to be more for them. That's why it hurt so much when she told me they didn't need me with them today. Truthfully, I needed to be with them." Teary eyes face me. "That's how I ended up here."

Reaching over, I brush his silky hair back. "It's not your fault they died and I'm sure those kids don't blame you."

"They don't. They love me so much and it just makes me feel even worse. I deserve hate."

"No one does." I hush him. "Especially not from someone they love as much as you love them."

A hand rests on top of the one I have in his hair. "It's not your fault your ex cheated on you."

"Thank you." I manage, trying to calm my breathing.

Contemplating a mixture of what we just said and heard, we finish our meals in silence.

"This is not how I saw tonight going." He admits, crumpling up his last wrapper.

"Something tells me this is a better outcome than my date." I joke, knowing it's true and John lets out an actual laugh. A laugh so pure that I joined him.

The silence falls over us like a blanket tucking us in for the night away from our troubles. Studying the skyline, I sigh. "I could watch the lights for hours."

"The lights?" He raises a brow.

"Yeah." I feel the heat creeping over my face. "I lived right outside of Vegas and there was a place you could drive to see the entire city lit up. I went there a lot when my ex was deployed and then even more when he was home. Lights can make even the largest sins look lovely."

He watches them with me and I don't feel like a complete loser. "I like to watching them ripple in the water."

"Me too." I nudge him. "It makes them look heavenly."

"Do you believe in love, Melissa?" His question takes me by surprise.

"You answer first."

"It sounds stupid coming from a life long bachelor from a broken home." He chuckles dryly. "I've had friends abandoned with kids. I have friends stuck in toxic relationships for the sake of their children and pride. I was also raised by one of the most loving couples in the entire universe. They taught me what love was and what I didn't learn from them, I learned from their son."

Shaking his head, he sends me a look. "I'm rambling. To answer my own question, yes, I suppose I do."

That– that was not the answer I was expecting. "I thought I did when I first got married. I was determined to find love since my dad dragged me all over California and Nevada for his failed relationships growing up, but the older I got, the less certain I became." I admit. "But my students might just be the reason I say yes."

"Puppy love?" He winks. "Or the real deal."

"The real deal, I think." He waits for me to elaborate. "I have two students who actually just did a project together and it was the damnedest thing I've ever seen. They opened up together." I remember how in-tune they were when they presented their project. The smiles they shared and their hidden hand holding. "I was jealous of a couple high schoolers because it just seemed so real."

Realizing what I just admitted to, I hide my face. "I don't usually gossip about my students or feel delouse over their relationships. I'm not a creep."

"You're human." He moves my hands and his warm eyes lack all judgment. I suck in a breath and I'm almost certain he leans in.

In need of a distraction, I check the time and he clears his throat. "It's late, I don't want to bother you anymore."

"Let me drop you off." It's the least I can do after getting all that off my chest. And for not kissing him when I really should have. His lips look like they're professional.

Reluctantly, I drive towards a condominium and he hesitates when I stop by the door.

"Thank you for an unexpectedly nice evening." He starts.

"Thank you." I grin.

"I... um. I'd like...." His voice dies out and I raise a brow. "I'd like to see you again if my crying and rambling didn't scare you off."

I'm sorry, what?

He grimaces. "I must've read the situation wrong, my apologies. I'll just be–" He hits his head as he tries to flee my car and I grab his arm.

"John, I'd love to see you again." The smile that spreads across his face is heart melting. "And I like a guy who shows he's human. "

"Good to know." A hint of a smirk graces his lips as we exchange numbers.

*****

CONTINUE READING FOR CHAPTERS 2 & 3!

Ah, I love Mel and John. This little novella will have about 8 chapters in total!