But the important thing was that I’d needed him, and he’d come. He was always coming to my rescue. And for the first time since high school, I let myself be reminded of the crush I’d always held for him, the crush I’d attempted to snuff out when he’d gently turned me down.
He wasn’t looking at me like he had the night he’d told me I was pretty; he was looking at me like the way he’d looked at Tori. And all the others that followed. I knew, because I’d witnessed it too many times to re-live.
“You want another drink?” Keane asked as the bartender gave him the “one second” gesture from the other end of the bar.
I only had a few more seconds to make a decision. If I said no, we’d go home from here, this moment likely lost forever.
But if I said yes, we’d exist in this little bubble for at least thirty minutes more. Maybe another drink would give me the courage to do what I’d wanted to do all night: kiss him. For real. On the mouth.
I was faced with the task of making a good decision or a bad decision.
And I wasn’t sure which one I wanted.
He stared at me for a beat, his eyes warm and his smile doing things to me.
“One more for the road,” I said, practically vibrating with unspent energy.
“I think a whiskey for me,” Keane said. “And you?”
“Whiskey for me too.”
Keane motioned to one up on the wall. “Have you ever had whiskey?”
“No. But had you ever had a climax before?”
He gave me a teasing smile. “Yep. A few.”
“Lucky you.”
The bartender set two glasses on the bar. “Who’s driving?”
“Neither of us,” we said simultaneously.
“Good.” He gave us each a healthy pour.
“Toast?” Keane held up the short glass.
“To us,” I said. “The best of friends.”
Keane paused just before tossing it back, eyeing me carefully. The way he looked at me made me feel squirmy, like I needed to do something. “Okay.” He brought it to his mouth and I followed suit, tossing mine back.
Fuck. That burned. I hated that I coughed and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Okay, maybe next time don’t take it like a shot. I promise, it doesn’t burn as much if you get to know it first,” Keane said, as if in invitation.
“Prove it.”
Within a minute we had two more in front of us. “This time, don’t toss it back. Smell it. Let it get to know you a bit. Take a little sip, swish it around in your mouth.”
I was doubtful that it would burn less, since my throat was still on fire. But the sip I swallowed was significantly less harsh.
“Do you like its flavor?”
“Um…” I shifted on the stool. My bum was falling asleep from sitting here but standing might be a bad idea. “It’s hard to taste the flavor, I think.”
“Okay.” Keane grabbed the straw in the glass of water we’d neglected since the bartender had placed it in front of us hours before. He plugged one end of the straw with his forefinger before picking it up and out of the glass. He held it over my glass of whiskey and let a little bit splash into it.
“Isn’t that a bad thing? Watering it down?”
“It makes a bigger difference, helping you taste it better.”
I was doubtful but joined him in another sip. This time, I let it swirl around my mouth even more before swallowing. The flavor was somehow more complex, richer, and it went down a lot more smoothly. While I couldn’t name the flavors mating on my tongue, I could taste them this time. “You’re right.” I rubbed my tongue over the roof of my mouth, trying to capture the warmth of the flavor.
“Good, right?”
“I’m working myself up to good,” I said. “My throat is still a little angry.”
“When grandpa and I would go out to the cabin after an elk hunt, we’d sit by the fire until it was embers and we were both too tired to throw another log on. He’d make us hot cocoa, tipping a little whiskey in both of our mugs. Told me it would keep us warm through the night. The cabin isn’t super well-insulated, so in the fall it got cold at night.”
“Did it help? Keep you warm?”
“I’m not sure. It helped me pass out though,” he said on a laugh.
“So, cheers to Grandpa Colburn.” I held my glass up, clinking with his.
“He’d probably grumble about me spending money on overpriced drinks when we could drink at the house for cheaper.”
“But he’d be happy about what you and Asa are doing. Restoring what he gave you.”
“I think so. I’m looking forward to it.” His eyes were warm and his mouth held a soft smile, as if he was in a memory. What I wouldn’t give to have that kind of smile aimed at me. “Ready to get going?”
Nodding, I pulled my purse off the hook under the bar. I dug through it until my fumbling fingers found my wallet.
“Get that outta here, Navy.”
“No way, friend.” I pulled out a few twenties—or what I thought were twenties. Those damn numbers were so small, how could anyone see them when they weren’t drunk?
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out if this is a twenty or a fifty.” My contacts were dried out from the long night and the smoky bar, and I realized I didn’t have eye drops or a contact case for them. Oh well.
“Well, does it matter? I’ve already paid.”
“What? When?” Was I really that drunk that I was losing entire chunks of time?
“I started a tab when we got here.”
“Oh.” I felt my cheeks warm. “Let me leave the tip then.”
“I already did.”
“How much was the damage?”
“Don’t worry about it.” His hand covered mine and gently pushed my hand into my purse until I let go of the wallet. “Let’s get out of here. I’m sure we both need to use the bathroom anyway.”
“But you said we couldn’t use this one,” I murmured as we started toward the exit. Holy cannoli, my legs reminded me of watching a baby deer walk for the first time.
“We’re going next door. I’ll send for a car there.”
“Good idea.” I leaned heavily on him as we stepped outside. “Whoa, fresh air.”
“I had no idea we were eating cigarette smoke the last couple hours until now.”
“I didn’t even know there were still bars that allowed that here.”
“I think that’s the only one.” Keane led me across the alley to the convenience store next door, but every step on the ever-changing ground was a test for the strength of my ankles. I wasn’t even wearing heels, but it sure felt like I was.
“Are you not as drunk as I am?” I finally asked when we safely arrived onto the sidewalk in front of the store.
“Oh, I’m just as bad,” he said. “I’m just bigger, so I can lead better than you can. Like two giant toddlers learning to walk together.” He swayed us into a newspaper stand and I laughed as it rattled. “Spoke too soon.”
“I don’t even know where the bathrooms are in there,” I said on a laugh. I’m gonna take out a whole aisle of convenience snacks in my search.”