She nodded, then poured herself a beer—smiling as she did so, silently acknowledging that she’d just given him shit for wanting something as pedestrian as a beer. She took a sip, foam covering her top lip.

They didn’t speak for some time. He’d finish a drink, she’d make him another. She’d finish hers and pour another, as if it were a competition.

It wasn’t long until both were feeling the booze.

Matt’s phone shivered repeatedly in his pocket, but he never checked it.

“The funeral was nice,” Jessica said.

“You mean until the blaring sirens and the surviving son took off?”

She made a face. “Your grandpa looked well. I haven’t seen him around town in forever.”

Matt held the old-fashioned in his hand, contemplating it. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, but really, there’s no need for small talk.” He drained his glass.

“No?” she said. “All right.” She leaned over the bar, grabbed Matt by the lapels of his suit, and pulled him into a kiss. He wasn’t expecting it, which gave the adrenaline slamming through him even more of a kick. Not moving her mouth from his, Jessica scaled the bar, knocking over glasses and bar tools, until she was on the other side. When she finally pulled away, both were breathing heavily, Jessica’s hair falling from the pins that held it in place.

“There’s a room upstairs,” she said.

He nodded, following her to a door in the back. She fumbled for her keys, kissing him again as she unlocked the door to a narrow stairwell. She took his hand.

His head was swimming. From the booze, from the hunger for her, from the surrealness of the day. Jessica walked unsteadily up the stairs.

Matt started to have second thoughts. He beat them back, but they kept leaping into his head. He’d thought of this girl for seven years, and was this how he wanted it to go? Sloppy, in a room above a bar—on the day of his family’s funeral, no less? But he did want her, and he needed something to make him feel good right now. Finish the unfinished business, as Kala had said. But the thought of Kala only intensified his feeling that this was a mistake.

At the top of the stairs was a small room with a twin bed, a nightstand, and a television. Jessica tugged off Matt’s suit jacket, pulled the loosened tie over his head, and unbuttoned his shirt, then his pants. Then she stopped and said, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” She skipped to the bathroom connected to the room.

Matt sat on the bed, battling with himself. His phone started buzzing again. His aunt looking for him, probably. His friends. He pulled it from his pocket to put it on silent mode.