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Matt ran his finger along the rim of his martini glass and sighed into the strawberry-flavored concoction. The stem lay discarded beside him, long since the bartender served him his drink and he’d promptly popped the strawberry into his mouth. He gave in when Serena kept insisting he order something—all the drinks were on her—not knowing that he’d never so much as had a sip of coffee before. She called over a bartender, half smiling as she requested his drink of choice for him, and went off to submerge herself deep in the din of the bar.
He lifted the glass, tried to bring it to his lips for the fourth time, set it down and had to remind himself he wasn’t in Montana anymore. He directed his attention to the small stage where Bruce was performing a nauseating rendition of Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You.” If Matt wasn’t a better man (or as hopelessly oblivious), he might have thought about recording it and using the footage as blackmail. Serena sat to the side, bent over with cackles beside Alex who was likewise choking on her cocktail.
Matt had tried to get up there and queue “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” on the karaoke machine. He struggled to find the song for a few minutes until the staff informed him children’s music was not available in their library. He sulked back to his seat at the counter and nursed the scratches he’d earned from wrestling the plague cat earlier in the day—still fresh, but healing quickly, as the incipient itching indicated. He pressed the pads of his fingers into the bandage on his cheek, feeling defeated despite his excitement that the scars may have impressed Serena—although as a nurse he knew the cat’s claws only grazed his epidermis and all evidence of the incident would disappear within a few weeks.
Even if he hadn’t saved Serena from a house fire or rescued her from hungry sharks, the event marked a personal milestone for himself. He knew what he felt about Serena, that it was much more than platonic, that it wasn’t just because he was far from home and allowed himself to feel these things now, but he was surprised with how little he thought about tackling that cat when it reared its fangs at her. He’d tamed wild horses before, sure, but cats were a whole different ball game. To jump into action with no prior experience was so unlike Matt that he wasn’t really sure what came over him, had to reflect on it over his lunch break.
He watched as Serena stepped up to perform a TLC song, barely able to comprehend seeing her without her scrubs, in a leather pink halter top and mini skirt, exposing her midriff and making Matt avoid eye contact upon meeting her outside the bar. In contrast, he had donned one of his nicer button-ups and his new pair of jeans, starched to perfection with crisp creases running down each leg.
She was squinting under the small stage lights, her hips rocking along to the beat. She clapped her hands over her head, encouraging the other nurses to join her, and they gladly cooperated. Matt averted his eyes, sensing that if he wasn’t going to join in, he probably had no right to be staring at her so intently. He absently took a sip of the martini, and it was only until it seared through his throat on the way down that he realized what he’d done.
He coughed into his fist and considered running to the bathroom to purge. But soon the liquid cascaded into his stomach, and he physically felt the warmth blooming there. It wasn’t bad.
“Hey! Matty!”
A sudden force shook him by the shoulder, nearly knocking him out of his seat. He swiveled around. The smile that spread across his face shifted every other feature around it, nose crinkling, the corners of his eyes creasing, brows drifting up. “Hey, Serena.”
“How’re you doing?”
Her voice came out louder than usual—which already had the tendency to make Ron rub his ears at work—and her skin shone with some kind of body glitter. God-like, he thought. Sort of blasphemous of him.
“I’m, uh, good,” he said, more than a little distracted. “How about you? Having a good birthday, I hope.”
“Oh, I’m great. Wasted, probably. I honestly can’t tell.” She plopped down in the empty seat next to him. “Why are you all the way over here?”
As always, Serena was not the type to mince words.
“Uh… I don’t know.”
“Be honest with me,” she said, pouting. “You’re not having a good time, are you?”
“No!” he exclaimed. “I am. I guess I’m just not used to all this.”
“Having friends?” she snorted.
“No. Well, kind of. But I mean specifically places like this.”
“Not your speed, huh?”
He chuckled, taking a bigger swig of his drink than before. “Not really.”
“Well, I hope you don’t mind too much. We’ll do something way different for your birthday.”
“My birthday?”
“Yeah. When is it?”
“July 13th. But you guys really don’t have to—”
She gasped. “You’re a cancer? No wonder!”
Matt’s eyes widened. “What? Last I checked, no. Should I get tested again?”
“I meant your zodiac sign.”
“Ah. I was taught that zodiac signs were a ploy invented by witches to distract people from their heavenly duties and lure them to hell,” Matt said matter-of-factly.
Serena raised a brow and scoffed. “It’s just a fun way to get to know people. At least for me and Alex. Not sure about actual witches. But seriously, you are such a cancer.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, genuinely afraid of her answer.
“Nah. Cancers are known for being empathetic, protective and… something else. A lot of them gravitate toward nursing, like you.”
As he heard this, Matt fixed his posture, slightly puffing out his chest.
“They can also be over-emotional and controlling.” She shrugged. “So there’s that.”
Matt slumped down again.
“I think you fit the bill. Hopefully I won’t get on your bad side,” she added, nudging him.
“You won’t,” he declared. “You would never.”
She gave him a strange look, and giggled. “Thanks again for today. Very cancer of you.”
His face warmed; he stared down into his drink. “Don’t sweat it. I tussle with plague cats all the time.”
“I believe you.”
She was silent for a moment. He realized her hand was on his clavicle, pinching the small chain around his neck between her index finger and thumb. They were ice cold, although Matt felt that a fire was ignited wherever they met his skin. She was close. He could smell her perfume at this distance, like a warm presence totally engulfing him, suffocating him. He thought about pulling away, only to find that he was paralyzed from the neck down.
“Matt?”
“…Yes?”
“You’re a really sweet guy.” She hiccuped, her cheek propped up on the other hand. “Cute, too. It’s pretty unfortunate for me.”
“Um… Why…”
Alex’s voice pierced the space between them, causing Serena to withdraw. “I should go check on her. She probably wants to do a duet or something.”
“Okay,” he managed, after a failed attempt to gather the pieces of his brain scattered and smeared across the walls and floor of the establishment. “I’ll be here.”
“Like hell you will. Come on.”
She snatched his hand and pulled him toward the others.
He protested. “But I, I thought—”
“I know, I know. But it’s my birthday. Let loose tonight. For me.”
Matt’s response was immediate. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”