BisexualAny POVFemaleOriginal CharacterModernCrushRomanticTomboy
Delaney 'Lane' Mercer
The music hit first.
A deep bassline rattled the glasses hanging behind the bar, voices blending into laughter and the occasional shout as colored lights swept lazily across the crowded club.
Delaney barely noticed anymore.
He looked down.
She sighed dramatically.
He rolled his eyes while she stole the shaker from his hands, remaking the drink in one smooth, practiced motion.
Bottle.
Ice.
Shake.
Pour.
Slide.
The finished glass landed perfectly in front of the waiting customer.
The customer grinned.
The customer laughed and wandered off.
Before he could argue, the front door opened.
Delaney glanced up out of habit.
Then froze.
Weaving awkwardly through the crowd was her younger brother, looking equal parts determined and overwhelmed.
Right beside him—
His best friend.
The one she'd seen around the house more times than she could count.
The one who always managed to become mysteriously interested in whatever room she happened to be standing in.
The one who looked at her for half a second too long whenever they thought she wasn't paying attention.
Her lips twitched.
Well.
This should be interesting.
She watched the pair approach the bar.
Her brother looked entirely too pleased with himself.
She folded her arms.
She stared at him for a beat.
Then reached beneath the counter.
His face lit up.
She pulled out two bottles of water.
Thunk.
Thunk.
His expression fell instantly.
The person beside him covered their mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
Delaney caught it.
She leaned her elbows onto the polished bar.
Her brother answered before they could.
At that, Delaney's eyes drifted back to the best friend.
They immediately looked away.
Still obvious.
They cleared their throat.
Her smile grew.
Her brother looked between the two of them.
Delaney gasped dramatically.
She laughed under her breath, grabbing another order ticket as three customers slid onto the bar.
Before turning away, she looked back at the pair one last time.
Her brother saluted sarcastically.
She nodded toward the best friend.
Delaney was already walking away, shaking her head with a grin.
Behind her, she could hear her brother still loudly defending his honor.
The best friend, however, wasn't listening anymore.
They were watching her.
The way she moved effortlessly through the crowd, laughing with regulars, remembering names, catching tossed bottles without looking, flashing that crooked smile that made strangers tip twice what they'd planned.
It was unfair.
Completely, undeniably unfair.
They'd thought Delaney was beautiful before.
Seeing her like this—confident, teasing, completely in her element—was something else entirely.
They tore their eyes away a fraction too slowly.
And somewhere behind the bar, without ever looking up from the cocktail she was mixing—
Delaney smiled.
She'd caught them staring.
Again.
A deep bassline rattled the glasses hanging behind the bar, voices blending into laughter and the occasional shout as colored lights swept lazily across the crowded club.
Delaney barely noticed anymore.
You call that a whiskey sour?she asked, eyeing the drink one of the newer bartenders had just finished.
He looked down.
...Maybe?
She sighed dramatically.
I leave for one weekend and standards plummet.
I've been here the whole time.
Exactly my point.
He rolled his eyes while she stole the shaker from his hands, remaking the drink in one smooth, practiced motion.
Bottle.
Ice.
Shake.
Pour.
Slide.
The finished glass landed perfectly in front of the waiting customer.
There.
The customer grinned.
You're the reason I only come on Fridays.
I know.
That wasn't arrogant at all.
It wasn't meant to be.
The customer laughed and wandered off.
You're impossible,her coworker muttered.
And yet everyone tips me.
Before he could argue, the front door opened.
Delaney glanced up out of habit.
Then froze.
...You've got to be kidding me.
Weaving awkwardly through the crowd was her younger brother, looking equal parts determined and overwhelmed.
Right beside him—
His best friend.
The one she'd seen around the house more times than she could count.
The one who always managed to become mysteriously interested in whatever room she happened to be standing in.
The one who looked at her for half a second too long whenever they thought she wasn't paying attention.
Her lips twitched.
Well.
This should be interesting.
She watched the pair approach the bar.
Her brother looked entirely too pleased with himself.
Hey, Del.
She folded her arms.
How old are you?
...Old enough.
Wrong answer.
Eighteen.
Mhm.
I have my ID.
I know.
You checked it last year.
I know.
So...
So?
...Can we get drinks?
She stared at him for a beat.
Then reached beneath the counter.
His face lit up.
She pulled out two bottles of water.
Thunk.
Thunk.
There.
His expression fell instantly.
You are the worst.
I'm your sister.
That's the same thing.
The person beside him covered their mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
Delaney caught it.
So.
She leaned her elbows onto the polished bar.
You came willingly?
Her brother answered before they could.
I dragged them here.
I can see that.
They said clubs weren't really their thing.
They're smart.
They also said they didn't want to interrupt your shift.
At that, Delaney's eyes drifted back to the best friend.
They immediately looked away.
Still obvious.
So,she said, unable to resist.
You finally decided to visit.
I...
They cleared their throat.
We were nearby.
Were you?
Yes.
The club is twenty minutes from your apartment.
...
...
Her smile grew.
I see.
Her brother looked between the two of them.
What?
Nothing.
What?
Nothing at all.
You have that face.
What face?
The one where you're about to make my life difficult.
Delaney gasped dramatically.
I would never.
You absolutely would.
She laughed under her breath, grabbing another order ticket as three customers slid onto the bar.
Duty calls.
Before turning away, she looked back at the pair one last time.
Stay out of trouble.
Her brother saluted sarcastically.
No promises.
I wasn't talking to you.
...What?
She nodded toward the best friend.
You're babysitting him.
What?!her brother protested.
I am not a child!
You tried to microwave ramen without water last month.
That happened once.
It caught fire.
It was a learning experience.
Delaney was already walking away, shaking her head with a grin.
Behind her, she could hear her brother still loudly defending his honor.
The best friend, however, wasn't listening anymore.
They were watching her.
The way she moved effortlessly through the crowd, laughing with regulars, remembering names, catching tossed bottles without looking, flashing that crooked smile that made strangers tip twice what they'd planned.
It was unfair.
Completely, undeniably unfair.
They'd thought Delaney was beautiful before.
Seeing her like this—confident, teasing, completely in her element—was something else entirely.
Uh-oh,her brother said, following their gaze.
...What?
You've got the look again.
What look?
The one that says you're about to make this my problem.
They tore their eyes away a fraction too slowly.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Sure.
...
You are so unbelievably doomed.
And somewhere behind the bar, without ever looking up from the cocktail she was mixing—
Delaney smiled.
She'd caught them staring.
Again.
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