town came. Not only was it a miracle I was still alive, but eighteen is huge. Almost as big as twenty-one. We have to do something for him.
“Really?” She frowns, and then her eyes light with a spark. “Totally. We’re doing it.”
“Like Avie’s going to agree to a party here,” Presley adds, pointing out the obvious. “Half price nothing will fight us.”
We joke constantly that Avie is the cheapest son of a bitch around. And he is, but to be a business owner, you have to be to a certain extent. Despite falling behind years ago, it had nothing to do with Avie’s business sense.
“I’ll take care of him,” I tell them, knowing I won’t clear it with him and just pretend I forgot all about it. Works most of the time.
AN HOUR LATER, the sky bursts with the vibrant colors of sunset—orange, purple, pink. It’s a vast difference from the goose gray that usually blankets the city. The happy hour rush crowds the dark corners of the bar, the stagnant air almost bitter to my tongue. Hundreds of conversations told too loud overpowers the jukebox, but I’m lost in my own head. Thoughts of him consume me, hold my mind hostage and won’t let me forget him.
My eyes glide to the door and the chime that follows, and then the creak of the door closing. My breathing picks up, my heart fluttering in my chest, his presence in the room suppresses my lungs. His heavy footsteps, drowned out by the hum of the room, thud through my thoughts.
With little interest in those around him, his focus shifts around the room, then land on mine. Obscured in the same mystery he had last night, he peers at me with curiosity. I want to know what he’s thinking so badly.
Color rises in my cheeks as my heart skips a beat at his sudden proximity to me. He looks away, toward the wall of liquor behind me. With his stare elsewhere, I take in details I didn’t notice last night. His thick brown hair has a wave to it and artfully frames his ruggedly handsome face. His eyes have a redness to them and tells me he didn’t sleep last night. I drag my focus lower to what he’s wearing. I’m curious if he changed. He did. His jeans hang low on his hips with a wrinkled gray T-shirt underneath a red and blue flannel. He pats the pocket of his shirt and then produces a wrinkled pack of cigarettes that he sets on the bar.
Fuck, he’s so sexy. I fight the urge to sigh. Is he staying a while?
Holy crap. Get it together.
“Can I get you something?” I ask, unsure what else to say, and surprised my words are delivered calmly.
He takes a seat at the bar. The smell of cinnamon, sea, and smoke invades my senses when he sheds his outer jacket and lays it on the same stool Fletcher had been sitting on earlier today. An awkward silence lingers between us when he seems uninterested in making conversation with me. I exhale a deep breath.
“Whiskey straight,” he says in a smoldering soft-spoken way as he taps embers into an empty peanut bowl.
Warmth fans across my cheeks, memories of last night plaguing my memory. I pour him a glass and slide it across the bar toward him. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Presley over his shoulder gawking at us, but I don’t look at her. I can’t. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll start laughing, or worse, snort.
He takes another drag on his cigarette, gauging me with cautious eyes. There’s something incredibly erotic in the way the smoke cascades from his lips and clouds his eyes. It reminds me of seeing him standing at my door as he left, but still, so sexy looking.
Although the idea of him being this close terrifies me, the desperation inside me out-weighs the nerves. “Anything else?”
He gives a dismissive shrug but maintains steady eye contact, smoke billowing from his nose and mouth with a soft sigh. “That depends.”
The shock on my face must register because his lips pull up into the smirk I saw last night. “On?”
His expression disarms me as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “When you get off.”
With careful consideration, I think about how I want to answer him. Do I want another night with him? Fuck yes, I do! “I’m here until closing.”
There’s a slight lift to his eyebrows but no words. I want to