Twist:A Dive Bar Novel(5)

By: Kylie Scott

God, I’d been so wrong to come here. So damn wrong.

What the hell had I done?


Heterosexual female age 29.

Graphic Artist. Works from home.

Seattle born and bred.

Enjoys reading romance, watching action, sci-fi, and horror movies, and shows about building renovations.

No pets unless the squirrel in the tree outside counts. His name is Marty.

Most prized possession is my laptop. All of my work is on there. Except the backup USB I’ve entrusted to Marty.

Most proud of establishing and running my own graphic design business.

In five years’ time I see myself further developing my business, investing in a property, and dabbling in renovating.

Looking for someone who is employed, artistic, neat and attractive, has a sense of humor.

Looking for a fun night out with a new friend.

Sexual compatibility is important.

Most important value in a relationship is honesty.

Heterosexual male age 28.


Northern Idaho born and bred.

Enjoys movies and music.

Most prized possession is family and friends.

Most proud of establishing and running a restaurant/bar business all on my own.

In five years’ time I see myself settling down with the woman of my dreams to raise a family in a home we’ve helped to build with our own hands.

Looking for someone who is attractive.

Looking for someone who is open to developing new friendship starting with a fun night out.

Sexual compatibility is extremely important.

Most important value in a relationship is open-mindedness.

“Alex!” called a deep male voice.

I should have known better than to take a chance. Such an idiot. I should have just stuck to crushing on various men on TV. Much safer. As for Valerie encouraging me to buy the plane ticket and instilling me with all of that false hope, the chances of her being beaten over the head with a wet fish in the near future were exceptionally high. And those bastards. Those heartless, soulless assholes playing me for a fool. Men sucked more than any known creature.

“Hey, hold up.” Joe’s big hand wrapped around my arm, bringing me to a halt.

I didn’t even think, just bared my teeth at him.

“Whoa.” He took a hasty step back, setting me free.

“Do not touch me,” I said coldly—right as the heavens opened and rain poured down. Awesome. Just awesome.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Go away.” I sucked in a harsh breath. “Joe, Eric, whoever the hell you are, it doesn’t matter. Just leave me alone.”

Face set, I turned and continued on my way, in whichever direction would take me far from the Dive Bar and those people, as fast as fucking possible.

“Wait, please,” he said from behind me. “Alex, you have to let me explain. I know I shouldn’t have lied, but Eric was never going to get back to you. I was just going to send a note, telling you not to worry about it. But then I liked talking to you.”

“Good for you.”

Head down, shoulders drawn in, I trudged on. Strands of wet hair clung to my face, the cold seeping into my bones and making me shiver. I was top heavy on account of the padding in my push-up bra absorbing roughly twenty-one ounces of rain on either side. Dolly Parton didn’t have a damn thing on me. And my end-of-season-sale, four-hundred-dollar designer suede shoes were ruined, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. The money was already gone from my “hoarding for a dream home” savings account. Yet another reason to hate the guy.

Shelter was required. Shelter, dry clothes, and a large alcoholic drink, in that exact order. Heavy-assed footsteps splashed along beside me as thunder rolled across the dark and cloudy sky.

“Look, I’m sorry you feel let down. I know you’re after a pretty boy with all the smooth moves and that’s definitely not me,” he continued. “You’re not exactly my type either, for that matter. No offense.”


“But I still think you’re great and us being friends, it’s a good thing. We support each other, Alex.”

I walked faster.

Sadly, with his long legs, the man had no trouble keeping up. “We can talk to each other about anything without any worries about being judged or gossip getting around. I swear, these last few months, you’ve pretty much been the only thing keeping me sane.”

I trotted along as fast as possible, trying to escape him. It still didn’t work.

“Fuck. I told you we should put off meeting.”

I ground to a halt. “Wait, are you actually trying to turn this around on me?”

“No,” he growled. “What I’m trying to do is make a point.”

“And what might that be?” I made my mouth a mean line. “Hmm?”