Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,146

No, I know I do. More than anything, actually.”

Hearing her say the words conjured something deep in me. Not sex or lust. What I wanted with her went beyond that. And deeper, somehow.

“But Sawyer, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Anything.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

Her beautiful face morphed into anguish, and then the song ended. “In the Mood”—the quintessential swing song—came on and the crowd filled the floor in a mad rush.

The heat and depth between us vanished and it felt like I’d been thrust up from somewhere hot and dark, into bright, cold light.

Darlene was asked to dance by some other guy but she declined and walked with me back to the bar where Jackson was watching us, a new Moscow mule in his hand.

He opened his mouth to make a joke, but snapped it shut again.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked.

“I’m having a great time,” Darlene said, not looking at me. “I’m so happy to have gotten out into the city.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jackson said, his gaze landing on mine. “I thought it was about overdue.”

The three of us said goodbye to our friends and Darlene exchanged phone numbers with Penny. I hoped a friendship would come out of it.

Anything, if it makes Darlene happy.

Jackson, Darlene and I, took an Uber back to the Victorian. There, Darlene gave Jackson a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you so much. I had such a good time.” Her glance landed on me then darted away. “It was a lovely night.”

Then she hurried upstairs in a cloud of soft perfume and cherries.

Maybe it was the vodka, but a sense of certainty and peace settled over me.

Jackson was staring at me. “Well? What the hell happened?”

I smiled like an idiot but I wasn’t trying to be smooth; I didn’t have game, or moves, or an agenda anymore. I pulled my bewildered friend in for a sloppy hug.

“Thanks, man,” I said.

“For what?”

“For tonight.”

For her.

Chapter 14

Sawyer

Tuesday afternoon, in study group, I stared absently at the notebook in my lap. Andrew’s voice droned in the background of my thoughts like a mosquito as he pestered Beth and Sanaa to quiz him. He monopolized the group, in a panic over the American Legal History final this week. Our last final, and, as with the others, I was confident I was going to pass. My eidetic memory had gotten my tired ass through so many late nights, not only would I graduate, but I’d do it with honors. But three days of grueling testing in Sacramento loomed ahead for the bar exam, and I was no closer to finding an angle for my brief to Judge Miller.

I can’t get distracted now.

But I was. I tapped my pen on my knee, determined to focus, as visions of red lips and a cherry; a black dress and long legs; a heated body pressed to mine wafted into my thoughts like a delicious scent to a starving man.

I was hungry for Darlene, in every way.

Henrietta once told me that it was hard for a person to imagine a better life than the one he had; to really know and feel that it was possible. It was the reason, she said, so many people worked so hard just to stay where they were. They never reached out for what they really wanted because they believed what they wanted was out of reach. But it wasn’t. Like words written on a mirror: Objects may be closer than they appear.

I still had so much work left to do, and even if I passed the bar and Judge Miller hired me, I’d have to work my ass off just as hard to keep that job, to keep providing for Olivia on my own. There would always be another finish line to cross. Was it stupid of me to not reach a little more for what I wanted? To imagine a life with something more than what I had?

My pen rattled against the denim on my knee.

The law that I had taken such refuge in for being black and white, was cold compared to Darlene’s smile. The sanctuary I had found in the codes and sections was an empty place. She was life, and maybe, if I didn’t screw it up, I had something to offer her too.

How about you start with a first date?

A slow smile spread over my lips. I shut my notebook with a snap, startling the others, and packed up my stuff.

“Where are you going?” Andrew demanded.

“Home.”

“We’re one final