minute to collect my thoughts before going back to find Sasha. Shit. I need to follow my own damn advice and stop letting this crap win.
With a sharp inhale, I walk out to the front counter, finding Sasha straightening up some piles of paper.
“What is your problem?” I ask her. I’m playing hardball right now because I don’t like games. She’s staring at me with a lost look in her eyes, and it gives me a minute to check out what she’s wearing. Her dark clothing is unlike her, and the red lipstick is hot but not her. “And why are you dressed like that?”
She rubs her hands up and down her arms. “I was sick of being me.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know,” she says softly.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going through your head, but this isn’t the Sasha I’ve known for the past few weeks. You look more like Cali right now, and it’s weird.” I think she looks embarrassed, and I get that she’s going through a ton of shit right now but that’s not an excuse to be fake or act like something she’s not. “Do you remember what I told you last night?”
She looks at me, dumbfounded. I don’t exactly expect her to remember much from last night since she was cocked, so I repeat it, “I told you I liked drunk Sasha but I also really liked the Sasha I met at first too.” I step forward and place my hands on her shoulders. “I know this whole thing with Landon blows, and it’s scary, and you’ve had a really rough few weeks. All of that doesn’t make for good timing when you find the man of your dreams, but you have to relax a little,” I say, going out on a limb a bit here.
“I’m sorry I got mad at you for whatever your relationship is with Greta…Bambi, whatever her name is. It just seems like the women around me lately are all badasses with dirty mouths, and I can’t keep up. At the same time, though, I’m a little tired of watching my mouth too.”
“Stop watching your mouth. Stop thinking. Just be you. Be whatever you’re feeling inside…even if that means belting along with music like we all witnessed last night, or if you want to sit on a bathroom counter and call me over. Even if it’s just that you want to confuse my cock for a roll of toilet paper or something as silly as pouring a little Jack in your lemonade…because I think together we could make one sick, spiked lemonade.” I grin at the thought, and she smiles in return. “Look, I don’t care how crazy or all over the place you are, just be you. Be the girl I’ve fallen for.”
She looks up at me, putting down the stack of papers she’s fidgeting with. “You’ve fallen for me?” she asks quietly.
“I wouldn’t have done what I did this morning if I hadn’t,” I tell her. “I told you, you were never meant to be a one-night stand without a real name.”
“I don’t know if that’s sweet or creepy, but I think I like it,” she says. Her cheeks brighten to a deep red, and I cup my hands around her face as I lean down to kiss her. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I realize how much I love holding this girl in my arms, even if she makes me crazy sometimes. “Can we do this?”
“This?” she asks.
“Yeah, can we be together, start something, see where it goes, see if it doesn’t have to end?”
“Monogamy?” she asks, looking like she needs to think about her own question. “That’s a lot to ask of me.”
“I’m sorry, I must be confused. Are you trying to make a joke?”
She slaps my arm. “You have to make it so hard?”
“It doesn’t work if it’s soft, doll-face.” To say I get a kick out of her changing facial colors by the minute is an understatement. I know she’ll eventually get used to my dirty mouth but for now, I’m going to take pleasure from knowing the effect I have on her.
I take her hand and bring her into the shop. “Maybe we should try to help Greta,” she says on the way in. “I feel awful.”
“Yeah, she’s not the type that likes help. I did as much as I could in there. Her niece is in rough shape. She watched her brother die and saw what happened with Greta.