“What are you doing up so early?” I asked, my voice sounding as sleepy as I still was.
“It’s eight thirty.”
I opened one eye to allow myself a moment to adjust to the light. When I saw he was fresh out of the shower, hair wet, with only a small white towel covering him, both my eyes were open and I was suddenly wide awake. “Eight thirty is early, you psycho. Come back to bed.”
He laughed as he went into a drawer and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs. “I’m not tired.”
I did my best to give him a slow smile I hoped was sexy, but I had a feeling it came out more awkward than seductive.
“Who said anything about going back to sleep?” It occurred to me that I might never get tired of looking at this man. His chest was broad but lean, and he had the kind of arms and abs that were muscular without being overly defined.
He cocked his head at me and gave me a little grin that I knew for sure was more appealing than the one I’d given him, despite the fact that I was fairly certain his hadn’t been intentionally hot. Then he lowered himself onto the bed, holding himself up by his hands, and slowly crept up over top of me until his face was directly above mine.
I felt the scruff on his jaw scratch my mouth when he brought his lips to mine, and then he lowered his kisses onto my neck and then my chest after hiking up my tank top.
“You can lose the towel now,” I said.
I felt him reach for his waist and toss the towel next to the bed.
“Aamee’s still asleep,” he said, reminding me not to be loud, especially since one of the walls to his room didn’t go all the way to the ceiling.
“I’m not the one who needs to be told to stay quiet,” I teased.
He was hovering over me, his dark stare doing things to every part of me. His teeth bit at the edge of his bottom lip.
“You will be this morning.” And when his head drifted down between my legs, I knew he wasn’t kidding.
His mouth and fingers hit all the right spots inside and out until I came undone.
Once I was fully satisfied, he came up for air, bringing his finger to his lips.
“Shh,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “I just heard a door close.”
“Shit. You think we woke her?”
“I think you woke her,” he said with a laugh. “But that just means we don’t have to be quiet now. Plus, there’s the added bonus of Aamee not thinking you’re a prude anymore.”
I laughed at the memory of Aamee’s words at the dinner Drew and Brody had tried to cook for me. But all thoughts fled from my mind when Drew pinned my hands to the bed on either side of my head and lowered himself onto me.
It was slow and easy and exactly what we both needed. Our gazes didn’t stray from each other’s as we moved together. And when we both let go, I wondered if this was how it would always be.
I hadn’t thought much about my future with Drew beyond the immediate. But when I dreamed about my life years from now—and sometimes I did—Drew was there beside me. Well, sometimes he was on top of me, but those dreams were another kind entirely.
We’d had enough serious conversations about our relationship, and I knew we didn’t need another. But I couldn’t help but wonder what Drew pictured when he envisioned his distant future.
Once we both cleaned up and got dressed, we headed out for breakfast. Aamee hadn’t been in the kitchen when I’d gone out to use the bathroom, but she was there once we both came out of Drew’s room. She stood against the counter, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot she’d made and eyeing us like she knew some sort of secret we’d been trying to hide.
“What?” Not wanting to look directly at her, I headed to the cabinet to grab two mugs.
“Just thinking we should’ve sprung for a full two-bedroom, that’s all,” she replied with a smirk.
Rolling my eyes, I groaned like the comment bothered me more than it did.
Drew removed a spatula from the drawer and pointed it at her. “Listen, you have a full wall and I can still hear you and Brody sometimes, so don’t even start.”
“Ew, gross. I’m glad I haven’t been here for that. I’d have to sleep on the balcony.”
“Or maybe you could try your own apartment for a change,” Aamee said, infusing her tone with even more sarcasm than it usually had. “Taylor probably forgets what you look like.”
I only stayed at Drew’s a few times a week. And Taylor appreciated having her own space sometimes, so I knew for a fact she didn’t mind.
“I wish I could forget what you looked like,” I told her. “Remind me never to look at you before you put makeup on.”
“Back at ya,” she said. “You look like something I’d draw with a broken hand.” Looking like she had an arsenal of insults still to fire at me, she casually took another sip of her coffee.
Drew had gotten bacon from the fridge, but he’d stopped moving completely to watch us, appearing thoroughly entertained.
“Well, you know I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said to me.
Aamee spit out a laugh. “You have worse eyesight than a mole after a long night of drinking.”
I usually only had one or two good insults in me before the well ran dry, and unfortunately spending more time with Aamee hadn’t seemed to change that. Turned out being a sarcastic bitch wasn’t contagious. As much as I tried to think of something to say back, nothing came to me.
“I can’t figure out if that’s more offensive to Sophia, the mole, or me,” said Drew.
“It’s probably a toss-up.”
Drew just shook his head and headed to the stove. He lit the burner and put some strips of bacon in the pan. “Hey, I bet Brody misses you. You should stay there more.”
“Ha! No thanks. Ever since you guys left, his place smells like something you’d find in the bottom of a gym bag.”
“I’m surprised Veronica isn’t making him take better care of the place,” I said. “She is his wife.”
Aamee tried her best to look angry, crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her gaze at me, but the hint of a smile betrayed her. “Okay, that was a good one.”
I beamed at the compliment. “Thanks.”
“I said one nice thing. I doubt it’ll become a habit.” She pushed away from the counter and walked toward the sink to pour what was left of her coffee down the drain.
“Of course not,” I replied.
“I’m gonna go take a shower. Save me some bacon?” she said to Drew.
“Already got a few pieces on here with your name on ’em.”
Aamee muttered a “Thanks” before heading back into her room.
Drew finished cooking breakfast—bacon, scrambled eggs, and avocado toast with a drizzle of lemon. We took our plates out onto the balcony and settled down in the chairs to eat. The courtyard was already beginning to get crowded. Even though it was early, Memorial Day weekend always had more people out and about, and I guess that was true at a luxury apartment too.
A few families had already staked claim to the cabanas at the pool so they could have some shade for their young kids. And the two groups of people who looked like they were in their thirties and forties had commandeered two of the four grills and surrounding tables. They had coolers of drinks, and a couple of guys were already drinking beers and hitting golf balls around the small course.
We ate quietly, sipping our coffee and enjoying the morning sun as we took in the scene around us.
“I can’t believe people can drink beer this early in the morning,” I said. “The thought of it makes my stomach turn.”
“I agree with you, but after years working as a bartender, nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to people’s drinking habits. A morning beer’s nothing. I’ve seen some crazy shit over the years.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
It’d never really occurred to me that Drew had probably been witness to some strange things working at a bar. Most of the people who came into Rafferty�
��s were middle-aged men who stopped by after work for a beer or came in on the weekends for a bite to eat with their buddies. It was like a physical manifestation of Billy Joel’s “Piano Man.”
Drew shrugged. “All kinds of things,” he said, but he didn’t elaborate.
“You saw Bill do body shots off Max, didn’t you?”
I’d met the men last semester when I’d come into Rafferty’s for the first time. They were nice. And I was drunk. And Drew was super sweet.
“That’s…frightening to picture.” I noticed him shiver at the thought, and it made me laugh.
When it was quiet again, I asked, “Why a bar?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You told my dad you always wanted to open a bar. Just wondering why a bar.”
Drew was staring at me, his eyebrows pressing together like he was trying to figure out where this was coming from. “It’s all I really know.”
I knew Rafferty’s had been his first job, well before he was old enough to bartend, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of doing something else.
“I’m not judging you,” I said, suddenly worried that’s what Drew might think. “I’m just wondering. You always seemed like you liked working at the bar. Most people complain, at least sometimes, about going to work. But you always seem like you like it.”
“I do.” He looked like he was thinking about how to explain further since he probably knew I wasn’t going to let him get away with just agreeing that he liked it. I remained quiet, giving him time to think. “I’ve never really thought about why I like it until now, which is weird, I know.”
“I don’t think it’s weird.”
“There’s a lot I like about it, I guess. Some of those guys have become like family to me. And they’re family to each other. And every day’s different. You never know who’s gonna come in or what they’re gonna say. Rafferty’s was where Dave went after his son’s death. He didn’t need to say anything to us, and we didn’t ask. The guys just bought him rounds and sat beside him. When he had too much, they made sure he got home safe.”
“What happened to his son?”
“You know, I still don’t know. I don’t think any of us do. He didn’t talk about it after it happened, and we never wanted to ask.”
“That’s heartbreaking,” I said. “Do you know how old he was?”
“Right around our age now, I think. He was in college at the time.” He stayed quiet for a moment, staring off the balcony, and I felt bad about bringing this up. “This must sound awful,” he said. “Like I enjoy people’s hardships or something.”
“No, I didn’t think that.”
“I swear there are good things that happen too. You know, like random college kids coming in and asking me to impersonate them.”
“Definitely not something that happens every day,” I said. “But I’m glad it happened.”
“Me too,” he answered, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t imagine anybody asking their accountant or their doctor to do that.”
I laughed at the thought. “Yeah, you’re right.”
There was a certain level of trust and friendship that people seemed to have with bartenders at places they frequented regularly. I’d watched enough Cheers reruns to know there was at least some truth to that.
“It sounds pretty appealing, actually. You get to really know people without the responsibility.”
I looked for any sign that I’d offended him by the comment, because I hadn’t meant to, but once I’d said it, I realized how it could be interpreted.
When he said, “Exactly,” I felt relieved. Even if it had come out wrong, Drew knew me better than to think my intention had been negative. “So what about you?” he asked after a moment. “I feel kinda stupid I never bothered to ask, but what made you want to pursue marketing? I mean, other than the fact that you’re amazing at it.”
“I think amazing might be a bit of a stretch, but thank you.”
“Are you kidding? Nite Bites would’ve been nothing if you hadn’t helped us. And the logo you did for the Yard is perfect.”
He didn’t say anything more than that, and he didn’t need to. I knew he meant every word.
“Thanks,” I said.
Surprisingly, even though I’d had to interview for the internship and I was finishing up my junior year of college, no one had ever asked me why I’d chosen the major. My parents cared more about the whats than the whys of my decisions. They were just happy I was doing well in school and had goals for my future that didn’t involve any of the shit Brody was always getting mixed up in.
But just because I hadn’t had to tell someone what drew me to the career didn’t mean I didn’t know.
“I guess the politician’s answer would be that I’m a creative dork. Marketing lets me research and compare data, but I also get to be creative. I always liked to write, so the idea of creating a slogan or campaign gets me excited. Add in the technology aspect, and it’s like a symphony of nerdy things.”
“I feel like symphonies are nerdy enough on their own.”
I laughed.
“I couldn’t even tell you what marketing really is,” he continued. “I don’t even know the difference between that and advertising or publicity.”
I smiled. “And hopefully you’ll never need to.”
“So what’s the nonpolitician’s answer?” Drew asked me after a moment.
“This’ll probably make me seem like such an asshole,” I said after a long sigh.
“I seriously doubt anything could make me think you’re an asshole.”
I hoped he was right, but I still felt self-conscious about the answer I was about to give.
“It just always seemed fun to be able to manipulate people’s opinions and actions.”
Drew’s eyebrow went up.
“Told you.”
“No, that’s… I get that, actually.”
“‘Manipulate’ may be the wrong word. It’s not like I wanna make them do something against their will or anything, but there’s a certain power to it. Growing up, I was surrounded by such strong personalities, I didn’t really have much of a say in anything. I was always the quiet one who never went against the grain. I had friends, but none of us were popular until high school.”
Drew waited for me to continue like he sensed I had more to say.
“In eighth grade, my friend Kayla wanted to run for class president. She lived on my street, and I’d known her forever. I thought she was insane because she was a nerd like me and pretty much had zero chance of winning. But I couldn’t tell her that because she was genuinely excited, and she had plans for our class, like an eighth grade formal and a class trip. So instead of telling her she wasn’t gonna get many votes, I decided I would do everything I could to help her. I didn’t think she’d win, but I hoped we could get her enough votes that her running would’ve been respectable.”
“So they announced how many votes people got? That’s messed up.”
“Not formally. But the mom of one of the kids in our class worked in the main office. Somehow things like that got out. And when it did, I wanted Kayla to at least feel justified running. Her competitor was this kid Colin. He was a wrestler and super involved. He had tons of friends, got good grades, and he’d held the position of president for the previous two years. Colin was a nice kid, but he didn’t do anything. People voted for him just because they knew him and they liked him.
“When I started to think about it, that was our angle. Our class needed a change. They needed someone like Kayla. They just didn’t know it yet. I honestly forget the exact slogan we used, but it was something like, ‘Give yourself who you need—Kayla Reid.’”
“That’s clever,” Drew said.
“Thanks. We thought so, of course. We made up Who You Need wristbands and passed them out, and Kayla made more of an effort to talk to people she didn’t usually talk to because I said more people needed to know her. I figured if they knew her, they’
d like her. I did some research on other schools to see how many offered the activities Kayla wanted for our school, and we distributed information to the students during lunch. Once it was time for the election, I had a pretty good feeling she’d get a decent number of votes.”
Drew looked captivated by the story. “Did she?”
I nodded slowly. “Almost all of them. I think there were maybe twenty-something people who voted for Colin.”
“Shit.”
“I know. It was crazy. We were so excited, but we didn’t know how Colin and his friends were going to treat her. They were definitely pissed at first, but a few weeks later, when Kayla began the first fundraiser for our trip to a water park, Colin and his friends were fully on board.”
“See? You really are amazing. Getting a bunch of kids to vote for a less popular classmate in middle school is a miracle even Mother Teresa would’ve been impressed by.”
Drew was exaggerating again, but I appreciated the compliment.
“It definitely made me feel good. I was able to influence people’s thoughts, and it was a natural high that’s been hard to replicate. But they did need Kayla. They just didn’t know it until we showed them. So I guess that’s the real, extremely lengthy story behind why I’ve always loved the idea of marketing. It’s really helping everyone, not only the person or business you’re marketing. Because our class did get the field trip, and we got a dance and a moving-up party on the football field.”
“You still friends with Kayla?”
“I talk to her here and there,” I told him. “We didn’t stay super close through high school only because our interests began to change. She goes to school in Florida, but I see her when we go home for holidays and things like that. Our moms are good friends.”
“Does Kayla know why you went into marketing?”
Shaking my head, I said, “I never told her. I never told anyone, actually. Well, until I told you just now.”
“I feel special,” he said without a hint of sarcasm.
I knew the feeling. Drew made me feel special too.
Two Truths & a Lime (The Love Game Book 3) Page 12
