Amazement, probably.
She…is…fucking exquisite.
“Yo, you ready to go?” Reece says a few minutes later.
“We just got here,” I say, not able to keep the exasperation out of my voice.
“He’s in a mood. Probably his shoulder again,” Eric mumbles to me before leading Sugar off to play darts.
Yeah. Whatever. I know it isn’t his shoulder.
“Dude, I’ve got a test tomorrow,” Reece says again.
My jaw pops. I wish he’d just driven himself.
“You offered to drive,” he reminds me, holding up the beer he’s drinking.
I did agree to drive everyone because I’m not drinking during hockey season, and I am the captain. It’s up to me to make sure no one does anything crazy.
The calendar on my phone pings with a reminder of everything I have on my plate tomorrow, and I roll my shoulders, feeling the tense and tired muscles there. Truth is, maybe it is a good idea to head home. I have to run, go to class and hockey practice, plus drive to the city for another therapy session. Frustration eats at me. I want to get over this hurdle of anxiety. I want my life back, and I need rest or my body is going to fall apart.
“Five minutes and we’ll go,” I tell my brother.
“Veronica is coming with us,” he says as she hooks her arm through his. She meets my gaze and gives me a triumphant look, as if somehow she’s winning by being with Reece. Whatever.
I shrug. “You’ll be the one bringing her back to her car later.”
He gives me a tight nod.
I walk over to Sugar, Eric, and Boone, who are playing darts, telling them that we’ll be leaving soon.
Eric reads my face. “Sure, man.” He looks at Sugar. “See you at my party, right? You know I wouldn’t be opposed if you brought a pie.”
She grins. “It took me two hours to make that. How do you feel about donuts instead?”
“Sold.” He pats me on the back, walking off with Boone.
“I like your friends,” she says.
I glance over at the table where she came from, a guy and a girl there watching us with avid interest. “Maybe you can introduce me to yours?”
She frowns. “Sometime, yeah, maybe.”
I pop an eyebrow. “You embarrassed of me?”
“Well, this is just pretend, so…” Her voice drifts off.
I exhale. She’s got a fortress around her.
“Come here a minute,” I tell her as everyone else hangs by the door, getting their coats on.
“Yeah?”
I pull out my phone, hold it out for a selfie, and wave it at her. “I don’t post a lot on social media, but it might be good if we did some Instagram stuff and maybe your guy at Vandy will see it. Priming the pump a bit.”
“That’s a great idea.” She perks up and moves to stand next to me, and I lean toward her until our heads are together then snap the picture. I kiss her on the cheek and snap one more. She’s laughing and taking my phone and looking at the photos.
“We look nice.” Her gaze is bright when it meets mine. “Send those to me?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
She chews on her lip. “Are you really leaving?”
“You’re welcome to come with me.”
She laughs and, just to mess with her and perhaps on impulse, I wrap my hand around her nape and pull her to me, pressing my lips to hers one more time. I kiss her, my tongue sweeping in to taste her, and when I pull back, her lips are red and swollen—and mine.
“Just in case that first kiss wasn’t enough,” I say.
She nods, her face pink. “That’s four.”
“You’ll stop counting.”
She smirks. “I’m keeping a tally.”
Reece calls my name again.
I say goodbye and head to the door.
Part of me wants to look back at her, but I know she doesn’t want that. She wants me to keep it simple. Uncomplicated. Yeah, I’m wondering how long that’s going to last…
15
Sugar
Both Poppy and Taylor are waiting on the edge of their seats when I come back to the table.
Taylor squeaks. “Fuck a duck in a bowtie. Tell us all the details.”
I laugh at the saying he picked up from Mara, reach over to grab what’s left of his martini, and drink it. Zack Morgan is the most confusing person. I shake my head, still trying to suss it out, replaying the interaction in my head. “Dude bolted out of here like a speeding bullet.” I lean back against the booth. “And Reece wouldn’t even talk to me. Weird.”
“What about that guy they called Boone? I want an intro to him,” Poppy says as she leans forward over the table.
I laugh. “He’s younger than you.”
“And that’s a problem?” she says.
“Poppy, your necktie thingie is in the fries,” Taylor says, giggling. Poppy has a tendency to be a bit spacey.
“Oh!” She pulls back up, straightening her cardigan around her shoulders as she giggles. “Too many martinis.”
Taylor stiffens as his eyes go to the front door and widen. “Bloody hell. Is there a full moon?”
“What?” I say, arching my neck to see who or what he’s looking at.
Tall and handsome with wavy black hair and a trim, lean physique, Bennett has just waltzed in the door. An anvil lands square on my chest at the sight of him. I can’t stop staring, taking him in, the strong chin with a dimple in the center, the way his hair flops in his face. A girl is attached to him like glue.
She’s pretty with cropped shoulder-length brown hair and a svelte figure that’s draped in a clingy black dress and sleek, thigh-high boots with three-inch heels.
A bitter laugh comes from me. “He always liked brunettes in dresses.”
Poppy pats my hand. “He’s a dick. He wanted to change you.”
I sigh. It’s true. He complained about my casual attire constantly. “I wasn’t rock star enough for him. He wanted a sultry sexpot.”
Poppy frowns. “Girl, you are sultry. He just isn’t the one.”
Taylor lets out a long sigh. “Ladies and gents, the night is officially over. Let’s fix our crowns and be brave—and get the hell out of here.”
Bennett’s head comes up and he sees us. He whispers something to the girl and starts walking our way.
I watch him get closer and closer, my chest heaving as I think back to the times we spent together. The magical summer at his parents’ lake house in Michigan, the time he made me chicken soup when I had the flu…
First love—first everything. It cuts you open and flays you alive.
And seeing him again—which is damn hard not to do in a town as small as Sparrow Lake—I feel frozen.
I can’t lie. I miss him. You can’t spend that much time with someone and not.
He comes to a stop at our table and I take in the expensively ripped grey T-shirt with the black jacket on top. The coat has zippers everywhere, on the sides, the collar, and the cuffs. It fits him like a glove, the material hugging his slender waist. Up close I see he’s wearing his hair a little longer, the raven waves brushing against the skin of his jawline. He’s handsome, alarming so, with an easy smile and deep brown eyes. He has this way of looking at you as if you are the center of the entire universe—until you aren’t.