A Little Bit Dirty - Page 6

She belongs here, in this town and in this bar. She’s what makes the whole place complete. Like what it’s supposed to be. I don’t know how to explain it other than she’s who I want to be here more than anyone else. I’ve always been comfortable here in my hometown, but there’s nothing like when she smiles. That’s when it feels like this is where I’m supposed to be. The last two years have been hard, too fucking hard, but I didn’t realize just how heavy it’s been till she came home.

In a pair of light blue skinny jeans that are ripped at the knee and a simple black silk tank top, Bri leans over the bar and orders herself another drink. Her ass is right fucking there, wrapped in denim and begging for attention. Clearing my throat, I wrap my hand around my glass of Coke, watching her shamelessly. I can’t seem to stop myself. How can I, when I haven’t looked at her this way in two years?

Is she thinking of me right now?

The other bartender, Denver, pushes her drink across the bar top, and Bri pulls it in close. Her slender fingers wrap around the glass and then her lips wrap around the straw.

When her lips curl up, I know damn well that she knows what she’s doing. Little vixen. Maybe the alcohol warmed her up, or maybe she’s gotten over the anger she felt when first seeing me—I don’t know what it is, but I’m happy that she’s bothering to notice me at all.

Then she turns and looks me in the eyes. “Stare much?” she asks, with a little smile that seems designed to drive me crazy.

We haven’t been together in years. Now that she’s back home from college for good, it’s legal for her to drink like this in public instead of back at the hangar. We’re allowed to be here in the bar together. Only we’re very much not together. I can’t decide whether to be relieved she’s where I can see her, or nervous to talk to her. Bri’s buzzed. She’s having a good time. She’s still looking at me, waiting for me to speak.

“Come here.” I tap the spot next to me at the bar. The chatter in the rest of the place washes over us.

Bri raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Is that so?” Her hand curls around her drink. She takes a sip, then a longer one. It’s not her first drink of the night. Looks good on her, though. Heat in her cheeks. Eyes bright.

“It is so. Come here so I don’t have to shout.”

“You’re not shouting now,” she argues.

It’s not very loud. It’s mostly our friends, and they just want to have a nice time. Twenty, maybe thirty people in here. It’s loud enough that she could scoot closer, though. Especially given what I want to tell her. The topic of conversation isn’t a fucking car, I’ll tell you that.

“Come here,” I say again.

Bri looks at me for a long time, then slides down the bar and steps closer. It feels like a heavy weight in my chest has lifted simply from how perfect she is. On my next breath, I catch her sweet, floral scent in the air. She smells just the same. It’s been years since we’ve been together like this and I think she uses a different shampoo now, but overall, just how I remember. There’s something about her that I would know anywhere. I breathe it in without being obvious. Memories come flooding back, along with those feelings, all of what we used to be.

It’s almost how it used to be. We were so damn close. To each other. To a life together. A surge of regret forms a lump in my throat and I swallow it down. What was I ever thinking, pushing her away like I did? Hell, I knew the moment I did it, I shouldn’t have let her go.

Her wide green eyes peer up at me and the playfulness is dimmed. Maybe without space and an audience she’s regretting acknowledging me at all. “What do you want?” Bri asks softly.

“I wanted to have a conversation.”

“About what?” She’s less brash now that she’s closer. A little shyer. She takes another sip of her drink, her eyes not leaving mine. “After all this time, you decided you had something to say?”

“I always have a lot to talk about with you.” I slip my hands in my pockets, hoping she knows how true it is. Hell, we lost what we had because I kept everything in. If I could go back … I’d let it all out.

Bri’s drunk, biting at her lip, and I can’t stop myself. “But mostly I wanted to hear your voice. Even if it’s for you to tell me to go away.”

She chuckles soft and low, this feminine sound and a smile lights up her face at my joke. She peers up at me and I can see it like a dare, like she’s going to tell me to go away in a way it’s obvious she’s just playing around, but she bites her tongue.

Proof that we’re both holding back.

“You could tell me something else, though,” I’m quick to say and shrug.

“You just want to hear my voice? You want me to tell you a story?”

“Yeah. About you. Tell me about work. What it’s like being home.”

A beat passes and then another. The emotions swing left and right. For a second there’s a flash of awkwardness between us. Old, unresolved pain. Bri takes a deep breath. “I’m going to be working at the salon on the weekends and with my parents at their place during the week.”

“Two jobs … college must’ve cost a pretty penny,” I joke.

She makes a dismissive sound and twirls her straw in her drink, the ice clinking as she does. “You could say that. But also I want to save up. Get off on the right foot, you know?”

Tags: Willow Winters Romance
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