dead to me| 2- s. r

FOUR

You feel like an idiot.

It seems like when it comes to the dating department, you just can't seem to catch a fucking break.

Tonight, you were supposed to meet up with a guy you met on Tinder for drinks, desperately hoping you could get laid. But of course, with your luck, the guy stood you up, so you now sit alone at the bar, feeling like an idiot. You hadn't been expecting a relationship from the guy, because you haven't been in a serious relationship since Spencer, and that was no one's fault but your own. You didn't see the point of letting yourself fall for another guy when your track record was not the greatest, and you knew you'd get hurt. You can't help but feel like maybe the universe just doesn't want you to be happy.

You feel like the dumbest person ever for actually dressing up for this guy, only for him to leave you sitting at the bar with your drink for nearly two hours. You got all dressed up, even put on nice lingerie, only for the asshole to ghost you. You take a sip from your glass, paying the person who slides into the booth beside you no mind until you hear someone clear their throat.

You turn your head around, scoffing as you shake your head. Spencer's nursing a glass of scotch in his hands, a solemn, sad look on his face that almost makes you feel sorry for him. "Mind if I sit?" His voice isn't snarky or teasing like it normally is, it's soft and mellow.

"Sure." You're not sure why you agree if you're being honest. Maybe it's because he honestly looks upset, and you still feel sorry for him, no matter what shitty thing he may have done four years ago. You're still upset with him, but you can pretend for tonight.

"Why are you all dressed up if you're drinking alone?" He questions, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a small sip, swirling the liquid around in the cup absentmindedly. You shrug your shoulders, "I got blown off by my date."

"What about your friend Elijah?"

"He met a girl that he thinks he might be serious about, so he ended our arrangement. He didn't want to mess anything up with her," you reply. Spencer becomes visibly uncomfortable with the subject, guilt from four years ago no doubt creeping in.

"So he wasn't your boyfriend?" You shake your head, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a drink from the glass. "Just a hookup, I guess."

"What about the guy who you were supposed to meet? How did you find him?"

"Tinder," you answer honestly.

Spencer looks offended by the statement, looking at you horrified, "You used to see firsthand how things like this can go, why would you meet up with a stranger? Do you know how dangerous it is?" You scoff, rolling your eyes and turning to face him, "Despite what you may think, I'm actually not an idiot. Penelope was supposed to do twenty-minute check-ins and was tracking my phone the entire night. She also set up a secret code word for danger in case something happened to me. I think I had it under control."

"Why would you want to go out with those guys? Most of them are pigs looking for nothing more than one-night stands."

You chuckle lowly, "Yeah, that's kind of the point. I'm not expecting a relationship from them." Spencer glances over at you curiously as you take another sip from your drink, ordering a glass of water. "You don't usually drink, Dr. Reid," you remark, trying to change the subject away from you.

"You're right," he answers, averting his gaze.

"So I think the real question here is why are you here drinking all alone?"

He keeps his gaze on the wooden bar table, shrugging his shoulders, "We just got back from a case. It was a hard one." You nod along, hoping he'll decide to elaborate. "The unsub was a paranoid schizophrenic and he had a break which led to the deaths of multiple women. It didn't end well for him when I tried to talk him down," he explains, not having to go into detail fully for you to understand how it ended.