Lexi Cocker - Faleena Hopkins Page 0,24
in a practical way, not like she’s the star of some porno — Lexi drives me absolutely crazy.
You’d never know it from my face. Reach into my pants and a different story will be told.
I’ve got my hand wrapped around the base of my bottle, watching her. Finally I smirk, “Your sister’s not coming.”
“Yes she is!”
“I said no lies.”
Lexi’s mischief remains even as her shoulders drop. “Fine.”
“You come here alone a lot?”
“If I did, Ralphie wouldn’t have asked me that!”
“Maybe you sneak in on his off nights.”
“No.”
“Have a few whiskeys.”
“No!”
“Sneak off to some other bars after this one, have about fourteen more until you do a face-plant in an alley.”
“Yeah right.”
“Have to call your sister, Sam, come pick me up!”
“Stop it!” she laughs, hitting my arm.
I cover my laugh with the bottle, taking a slow swig before drinking her in next.
“You look good.”
“Thank you, Gage.”
In a white t-shirt that reads Om This, light blue jeans, and those boots I took off of her last Saturday night, Lexi is even prettier than when she was more dressed up. I prefer this look — effortless and laid back.
“Where’d your curls go?”
“I tamed them.”
“Nothing about you is tame, Cherry.”
Her expression glimmers at the nickname, and the accurate observation. “You like that about me, don’t you, Crocodile?”
I chuckle, glancing down to the bar counter. “Maybe.”
“So…how was your week? What’d you do, besides miss me?”
“I didn’t miss you.”
“Thought you said no lies.”
I lock eyes with her. “It wasn’t ‘missing’ exactly.”
Her sparkling gaze traces my face, voice becoming intimate, “No, but it was something.”
I frown, eyes narrowing as I watch her take a sip, licking IPA residue from her lips. Felt like she meant that applied to her, too. Haven’t been able to get Lexi out of my mind since I dropped her off at church. Has she been thinking about me? Is that what she’s trying to tell me?
“Since you didn’t answer my question, I’ll go first,” she begins, turning toward the bar, both hands lightly on her pint glass. “This week has been pretty uneventful but good overall. I worked…” She points to her t-shirt.
“What is that?”
“Yoga studio.”
“Ah.”
“I saw a couple movies—”
“—At an actual theater?”
“Mmhmm. One was good, the other sucked. But we had fun anyway. I think the highlight of my week, though, was delivering good news to my boss. We had an uptick in profit thanks to an idea of mine.”
“Great week.” Glancing to the computer as Ralphie taps in someone’s order, I’m hoping she doesn’t ask about mine. I don’t feel like dwelling on what happened.
“What about you?” she asks.
Crunching my inner cheek, I bring the bottle to my lips, “What was your idea?”
She stares at me a moment, and decides to let me evade the question, launching instead into her story about webinars and marketing concepts, how her cousin’s wife had an aversion to it for all the wrong reasons and because she had a limiting concept that was holding her back.
I’m listening intently as Lexi thoroughly describes what she learned from online classes — and it all makes sense to me. Her excitement about it combined with clarity in explanation makes the story engaging. I’m staring at her the entire time, and she’s gotta be going for a good ten to twelve minutes.
As soon as Lexi finishes I compliment her, “You’re very smart.”
Her smile widens as green eyes gaze at me. “Thank you, Gage.” A self-conscious laugh bubbles out and she faces forward, lifting her pint glass, gaze shyly averted and it’s no act. “Nobody ever calls me that.”
“Your fire probably distracts them from the coals that make it burn.”
She swivels.
Blinks at me.
Smile gone.
I hold her look.
And wait.
Ralphie walks up, and turns back around, feeling something between us that he doesn’t belong in.
I ask, voice deep, “Something’ on your mind, Cherry?”
“This,” she whispers, leaning in. I close my eyes as her lips brush mine, sending flames into my blood. Fuck this tentative crap, I think to myself as I cup the back of her head and kiss her, deeply, slowly, and not giving a fuck who’s watching. With our lips locked, Lexi slides off that barstool and climbs onto my lap with my help, legs straddled as we keep kissing.
A couple wolf whistles don’t break through. They’re in some far off world where other people matter.
Ralphie, good sport that he is, starts clapping and shouting, “You lucky bastard!” and that one cuts through but we ignore him, too.
Lexi’s got her fingers laced in my hair while my grip locks