“I’ve been keeping up with your story.” I hug Silver closer. “I’m so sorry for everything you went through. I wanted to reach out so many times.”
She nods, and for some reason, I feel like she understands me. “It’s okay, Vi. I always told Jami he should have made a move sooner. Then maybe he could have been the one married to you.”
Laughing, I hold up my bare ring finger. “Yeah, well, life didn’t exactly go as any of us thought it would.”
Silver frowns for a second. “It never does, and that’s the beauty of it.” She tilts her head. “Does that mean you and Jami are finally working things out?”
“No.” I squeeze her hands. “It just means I’m the bartender he’s been desperately searching for.”
She glares at me playfully. “Convenient.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I need to get back behind the bar.”
“I’ll come order from you,” she says excitedly.
I wink. “You better. Anderson’s tab is open right now.”
Silver laughs and pulls her man forward. “This is my husband, Kingston.” She turns to the man beside her, who dwarfs her in size. “This is my old friend Violet.”
Kingston gives a cocky smirk. “She doesn’t look old to me.”
Silver rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He can’t help himself, bad jokes and all.”
Kingston glares at her playfully and then extends his hand to shake mine. “Nice to meet you, Violet.”
The man’s voice is almost as sexy as his biceps. I’m nearly gushing when I return to my station behind the bar. It’s not just being back at the camp having this effect on me. It’s the people who are reminding me of everything I left behind when I chose to marry Trevor. We were a family here. Blood related or not, this place was always my home. At least, it was more of a home to me than my actual home.
I frown, thinking about how my family has never appreciated me when the Bexleys used to adore me. My parents’ number one priority had always been my father’s professional pool career. They traveled constantly with little regard to my whereabouts while they did. When they were home, it was like they were forced to make small talk with a stranger. But they always said it didn’t matter what I did or what I ended up doing with my life, as long as I was happy.
“You’re doing good tonight.”
I jump in my spot, causing the glass I’m holding to jerk and toss the tequila sunrise mixture in the air. The next thing I know, orange juice, grenadine, pineapple juice, and tequila are soaking through my shirt.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. At least I thought I muttered it under my breath. But the way Jami’s heated stare melts me on the spot tells me he heard my curse word, and it surprised him. “I need a new shirt.”
Jami’s heated gaze morphs into amusement, and I’m convinced he’s trying to not say whatever he’s thinking.
“Jami, please,” I say. “A new shirt?”
His eyes snap to mine, and he nods before holding up a hand to get the other bartender’s attention. “Cover her for five.”
Danny nods. “No prob.”
Jami nods to the staff door, and I follow him in that direction until we’re back in his office where I left him last week. Then the door shuts behind me, and it feels like we’re in a vacuum. Most of the sound booming from the other room is hushed to an eerie silence—it’s so silent that I can hear the beating of my own heart. Being alone with Jami, in close proximity, has always had a weird effect on me.
He unlocks the cabinet and automatically reaches for a shirt on the bottom row. I frown when I realize what he’s doing. Stepping forward, I give him the side-eye before searching for a shirt on the top row. “I think you have my size wrong.”
“You weren’t complaining last week.”
I look over my shoulder to glare at him but realize how close he is. Maybe an inch or two separates us. Not enough. Then again, no distance has proven to be safe. Even when Jami moved to Seattle and I was married to another man, he was always there. A constant ray of hope peeking through the clouds. Because while I may have been committed to Trevor, I already belonged to Jami.
A panicky feeling arises in my chest, and my breathing shallows some. I snap my head back to the cabinet and pull down a shirt. “I think this should work.” I swivel around, expecting him to allow me room to walk away, but he just stands there, eyeing me like something is on the tip of his tongue.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He blinks a few times, my words clearly startling him. “Like what?”
“Like you’ve got something to say.”
He shrugs. “There’s a lot I could say right about now.”
Despite the strange circumstances, I smile. “Then why aren’t you talking?”
His gaze burns into mine. “I don’t want to scare you away.”
My heart should not be beating this fast. After all the time that’s passed between us, it seems so wrong to feel like this. To want him. “I don’t scare easily.”
His lids narrow. “Good.”
Fingers brush my skin at my waist and then the wet fabric of my shirt is being lifted off my body. I allow it. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me in less than this before.
He tosses my old shirt into the trash before his eyes return to mine. “Do you want to know how I first knew for sure it was you that day of Randall’s party?”
I swallow, my skin heating at the fact that neither of us are any hurry for me to get dressed. “How?”
The corner of Jami’s mouth tips up, and his eyes turn down to my chest. He lifts a finger to one of my breasts and touches the mole on the inside curve that used to be my biggest insecurity growing up. “This.”
I suck in a breath and succumb to his touch, remembering once again how good of a friend he was to me growing up. Anytime I’d wear a swimsuit in public, boys would joke that it was my third nipple. Jami would never allow the jokes to continue for long, but the damage was done. For years, I’d wear T-shirts over my bathing suits until the size of my growing breasts dwarfed the mole in comparison.
“I wondered how you knew it was me that night.”
He draws a slow circle around my mole. “I think in a way I knew when I saw you at the end of that hallway. It just didn’t click right away.”
“Why would it have? It had been years since we saw each other.”
His eyes meet mine. “I definitely wasn’t expecting it to be you.” He leans in, his lips grazing my ear. “But I’m glad it was. And I’m glad you’re here.”
Shivers erupt over my entire body. “You are?”
He pulls back slightly. “I am. Even though…”
I’m suddenly desperate for his words. I grip his shirt, my eyes widening. “What?”
His chuckle is airy, and his cheeks turn a little pink, like he’s embarrassed for his thoughts. “Nothing. It’s just that seeing you again brings back memories, some of which I should not be remembering.”
I bite down on my lip, remembering his detailed accounts of our first kiss and that night after our senior prom. “Remembering isn’t such a terrible thing.”