I don’t miss it when Daphne rolls her eyes as she reaches for a napkin. “Ignore her. She thinks everybody likes to party as much as she does. Can I borrow?” She slips my pen from between my fingers before I have a chance to respond. A couple seconds later, she hands me both the pen and the napkin, her number etched below her name. “Shoot me a text, okay? I’ll get you the deets tomorrow.”
I accept her offering. The irony isn’t lost on me that this is the second time I’ll be leaving Little Bird with a note-filled napkin. “Okay.”
“Awesome. We’ll see you tomorrow then. Come on Logan, let the man get back to whatever it was he was doing before you sat your pretty little ass down and interrupted him.”
“Alright,” she says as they both stand. “But only because you said my ass is pretty,” she adds, winking at me as they both make their way back to the counter.
I watch them go, replaying the last few minutes in my head. I wonder how it is that the two of them got to be so close. From the outside looking in, they seem very different. I also can’t help but think how random it is that I’m acquainted with them at all—and making plans to hang out with them on a Friday night. I shrug off my curiosity, reminding myself that it’ll be fun to get out. I’ll shoot out a mass text later, inviting everyone. Maybe, just maybe, Addison will want to come, after all.
Me: Hi Daphne. This is Beckham.
Daphne: Hi!! Are you still interested in hanging out tonight?
Me: Yeah. Name the place and time.
Daphne: It’s called Golden Brew. It’s off Mountain Ave. You can’t miss it. They have a restaurant, too, so we were thinking dinner at seven.
Daphne: And live music!! Band goes on at nine.
Me: Sounds fun. I’ll try and bring a crowd. See you at 7.
Daphne: Awesome!
Me: Hey guys. Headed to check out a new brewery tonight. Dinner and live music. Are you in?
Jack: Yup.
Sarah: Oh, man…already have plans. Let me know how it is. Maybe a repeat visit soon? Have fun. Or, you know, as much fun as you can have without me ;)
Avery: Are you talking about that new place off Mtn.? Dottie went last night! She says they have a HUGE patio that’s super nice, especially considering the weather. I guess there are games and such set up on the lawn in celebration of their grand opening week!
Grayson: Sounds like we’re going…
Avery: Sonny, we don’t have to! I can always check it out another time.
Grayson: If you want to go, I want to go. Wherever you are, I’m happy to be there. ;)
Sarah: You love birds are too cute for your own good.
Avery: Aww. Isn’t my bf the best?!? xoxo
Me: Gross.
Jack: I think someone might be whipped.
My Girl: Ha! Look who’s talking, Mr. Groom.
My Girl: I’m working tonight :( No brewery for me. But I agree with Sarah. Repeat visit soon, please!!
Me: Absolutely.
Me: Jack, Ave, Gray—out at 6:30.
Grayson: I have to work until 8. I’ll meet you guys there.
My Girl: If it sucks, come visit me!
Avery: Yes, ma’am.
Me: Deal.
Grayson: Hey man. Let’s end up at Cooper’s anyway.
Me: You read my mind.
Unknown: Hey, Mysterious. Looking for a headcount. You flying solo or in a flock?
Unknown: Btw, this is Logan. Swiped your number from Daph.
Me: Mysterious? … Flock. 3 for dinner.
Logan: Mmhm. There’s something in those blue eyes trapped behind those cute glasses… See you at seven!
When I open my door and see Avery, my breath catches in my throat. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, hiding its length, and she’s wearing a sleeveless, dark blue, floral dress that’s belted around the waist and stops mid-thigh—Addie’s dress. They wear each other’s clothing all the time, this is nothing new, but this is one of my favorite dresses on Addie and seeing it on Avery…
“Do I look okay?” she asks, taking in my expression before looking down at herself. “Did I spill something?”
I shake my head, shoving aside all thoughts of Addie—especially the memory of the two of us, last fall, at the park, in the grass, her in that dress, my hands exploring her body, as if they had a mind of their own and they were daring us to push the limits of PDA.
I groan, suddenly irritated, and shake my head again, willing my brain to recognize Avery is the one who fills the dress, now. Gray would have my head if he knew what thoughts that dress on his girl has filled my mind with; it wouldn’t matter that it’s not this twin I’m longing for.
I’m disappointed that Addie won’t be going out with us tonight, but that doesn’t mean that I have to bring along a bad mood instead. So I paste on a smile and address Avery’s question. “No. You look great. You just—” I cut myself off before I can finish my sentence. There’s no point in voicing my feelings.
“You recognize this.” I can’t help the soft chuckle that forces its way out of me. Our brother/sister relationship goes both ways. Of course, she can guess what’s in my head by looking at my face. “Ugh. I’m sorry,” she apologizes, sympathy pulling at her eyebrows as her shoulders slump in defeat. “I hated everything in my closet and I just thought—I didn’t think. I can go change.”
“No! No—don’t be silly,” I insist. “It’s time another guy got to appreciate that dress.”
“We rollin?” asks Jack, saving me from this slightly awkward moment.
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
The three of us head to the parking lot and hop into Jackson’s car, as he’s volunteered to drive tonight. When we get to the brewery, I know right away that there will be plenty to distract me from the dull ache in my chest that is my longing for Addie. The place is packed. The summer evening is cool and inviting and the excitement of a new brewery charges the atmosphere with that local charm Fort Collins residents can’t seem to get enough of.
As we head into the restaurant, which has a rustic feel that reminds me of a big open barn, I see that Avery was right—there is a huge patio that extends beyond the walls of the building; in fact, along the right side of the building, the walls themselves are actually big doors that open up, inviting the outside in. I’m sure this place will be a hot spot all summer long, on days when the weather is nice; and in the winter, when the doors close, they still have a decent space to accommodate plenty of guests.
I spot Daphne and Logan already seated at a high top patio table meant for six. I signal for Ave and Jack to follow me as we make our way over. Daphne sees us first and waves. She’s already got a beer in her hands; and with the way she’s dressed—in cutoff denim shorts, a red and white star spangled tank, and a blue bandana folded up into a headband that sits behind that hair bump thing girls do—she looks like the picture of an All-American summer. Logan turns and looks over her bare shoulder at Daphne’s greeting and we’re welcomed with a smile. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a lose bun and she’s wearing what Addie would term a strapless maxi dress—definitely looking more like she did at Cooper’s than she did at Little Bird.
There’s a third person at the table, too. From what I can tell, he looks like he might be about the same height as Jack—with a lot less muscle, and more tattoos. A lot more tattoos. The closer I get, I can see that his toned arms might not be ripped, but they are eye catching. He’s got a full sleeve of art on his left arm and a half sleeve on his right, both prominently displayed with his sleeveless basketball jersey. He’s wearing a baseball cap backwards, but I can tell the hair underneath is a dark blonde and long enough to be swept across his forehead. Now only a couple feet away from him, I also notice his eyebrow piercing and I can’t help but wonder, who is this guy? And how does he fit in with Logan and Daphne?
“Hey. You made it!” says Daphne with a grin. Her eyes are coated in makeup—black liner and shades of blue shadow—and I’m actually impressed with how well she pulls it off. It makes her brown e
yes look huge. “Have a seat,” she insists. Jack ends up taking the empty spot next to her and she turns to greet him. “You were at the pub the other night, right? I don’t think we met. I’m Daphne.”
“Jack. Nice to—”
“Jackson Davis?” Logan interrupts, leaning against the table so that she can see him from around Daphne. “Number twenty-eight in the flesh.”
“You like football?” he asks with a confident smile.
“Love football. I’m Logan.” She reaches across Daphne to shake his hand before she looks over at me. “Geez, Beckham—why didn’t you tell us you were so well connected with CSU football royalty?”
I shrug, amused and surprised by her legitimate dedication and enthusiasm in regards to our Rams. “He’s modest,” Jack answers for me. He teasingly winks in my direction and I laugh before Daphne cuts in.
“She’s obsessed. Don’t mind her.” She shifts her focus to Avery, who is sitting between me and the yet-to-be-introduced tattooed guy. “I’m not even going to pretend I know which one you are. You’ll have to tell me.”
“I’m Avery,” she complies with a kind smile. She pulls the length of her ponytail around to rest on her shoulder. “This will generally be your clue. My hair is longer.”
“Avery—Grayson’s girl?”
“Yup,” she says with a shy nod. “That’s me.”
“Got it.”
“So, where is your boy toy, anyway?” asks Logan before sipping from her beer.
“Finishing up at work. He’ll be here later.”
“Well, Jackson, Beckham, Avery, this guy over here is Trevor.”
“Hey, guys. What’s up?”
We all greet him in unison before Jack nods in his direction and says, “Nice ink.”
“Thanks.”
“Where’d you get it done?”
“He designed it himself, isn’t that awesome?” Logan answers before he can, resting her hand on his forearm as she looks back at Jack. “He even tattooed some of it himself. Crazy, right?”
I wonder, in light of her contact, if there’s something between the two of them. It would surprise me if there was, they don’t seem each other’s type, but she seems full of surprises. Then I remember how she was flirting with Gray the other night and I shrug off my curiosity, too confused to keep up and not interested enough to figure it out.
“Do you mind if I…?” Avery’s timid request pulls me from my thoughts. Trevor leans forward, stretching his arm out in front of her so that she can have a closer look. I peek over her shoulder and see that the colorful design that extends all the way up to his shoulder is actually one, big, dragon—the tail wrapping around his arm and ending at a point on his wrist. “That is so cool,” murmurs Avery in awe. I agree.
“Trevor is co-owner of a tattoo parlor. He’s the shit and he knows it,” says Daphne. Trevor chuckles, looking over at her, and she joins in with a laugh of her own. “Now you know where to go if you want something done. I don’t trust anyone more than I trust this guy.”
I’m even more impressed with his work now than I was before. Co-owner? He doesn’t look much older than us. I assume he’s responsible for the ink on Daphne’s right forearm and guess that’s how they met.
“What’s the name of your shop?” asks Jack.
“Generation Ink,” Trevor replies, turning in his chair so that he can show off his other arm to Avery.
Pretty soon our waitress approaches, wishing to take our drink orders so we can catch up with the other half of our group. I order the house wheat beer and Jack mimics me before instructing Avery to try a hard cider, a choice he’s sure she’ll like as a newbie. Turns out, he’s right, and she nurses her drink all throughout dinner. Since we’re all relatively new to each other, conversation is filled with general get-to-know-you chit-chat which leads to random topics of discussion that keep us going until all of our food is gone.
When we’re finished, we decide to abandon our table to go check out the games that are spread out on the lawn. There’s a group of guys playing a rowdy game of touch football, a few stations for horseshoes, and then a few more set up for corn hole. Mostly, people are standing around, drinking, talking, and enjoying the DJs mix, so when Avery spots an open corn hole station, she insists we team up and play. Jack and Daphne decide to sit out and watch and Logan is quick to volunteer to be my partner, so Ave and Trevor pair up and the game begins.
“I’m counting on you not to suck,” says Logan, tossing a bean bag from one hand to the other.
“Hmm—competitive?”
She giggles and nods. “Why yes, I am. But that’s only part of why I’m counting on you not to suck.” She pauses for a moment and throws her first bag; it hits the board at such a force that it slides right past the hole and off the back. “See?” she inquires with a grin as she turns to face me. “I’ve had too much to drink to be any good.”
“Well, we’re in luck,” I say with a smirk. “Avery has terrible aim.”
“Brilliant!” she cheers before throwing her remaining bean bags. One comes close, but doesn’t make it in; then it’s Trevor’s turn. He scores twice and misses once before it’s my turn to play. I miss the first one, but sink the next two, which earns me a squeal, an applause, and a high five from Logan. “You know, I like you like this, Beckham.”
“Like what?” I ask, shifting my gaze between her and Avery, as she attempts to score.
“Off your white horse. You seem more relaxed after a couple beers.”
“Isn’t everyone?” I chuckle.
“Oh, come on. Just admit it,” she chastises me, pocking my chest with her index finger. “You’re. Having. Fun!”
“Alright, alright. You caught me,” I say, playing along. “I’m having fun.” It’s the truth. I am having fun. It’s nice to be out with friends and to not be thinking about anything except for whether I should toss the bean bag more to the right or to the left. Now that I think about it, it’s also kind of nice to be out with people who don’t know a whole lot about me; people who don’t know I’m in the middle of a complicated, confusing, and hard time right now. They don’t ask or wonder about how I’m doing, they just expect me to show up and have a good time with them. It’s a relief.
I’m pulled from my thoughts at the sound of Logan’s victory cry. “Did you see that? I got one in!” she squeals before throwing her arms around me. I’m startled by her touch and the foreign feeling of her body pressed against mine, but my arms wrap around her instinctively as I murmur a congratulations. I don’t hold on for longer than a second and she pulls away from me as soon as she senses my retreat. “We just might have a chance, after all.”
“Ouch!” I yelp when a bean bag suddenly smacks across my cheek. When I look up, I find Trevor is bent over laughing and Avery is glaring at me, her fists pressed against her hips. “What was that for?” I manage as the shock sets in that Avery, who has the worst aim, just chucked something at me that actually hit her intended target. When she lifts her eyebrows at me in response to my question, I shrug in confusion. She yanks out her phone as Trevor proceeds to take his turn. Two seconds later, I have a text.
Avery: You ARE aware that she’s flirting with you like MAD, right?
I shake my head as I construct my reply.
Me: She’s tipsy, Ave. It’s harmless.
Avery: You don’t know her so you can’t know that. Just be careful…
So much for a break from thinking about Addie.
Me: You know who owns my heart. I can handle her.
Because Trevor is strangely awesome at corn hole, and because I apparently have pretty good aim when I’m really annoyed, we win our game. It’s a quarter to nine when we’re finished, so we decide to head back to the patio to try and snag any available spots left to watch the band that will grace the stage in a few minutes. I’m not sure who is playing, but Daphne is under the impression that they are going to be great, so we follow her lead.
I check my phone and see that Sonny sent me a text not to
o long ago telling me he just needed to stop home to change his clothes before he heads over. I don’t even try and hide my smile at the thought of seeing him soon.
“Headed to the little girls room before we get sucked into the crowd. Anyone else need to go?” asks Daphne.
“I’ll come,” I say, stowing my phone.
“I’m good,” calls out Logan as she and our three guys continue toward our destination.
Yeah. I’m sure you are, I think to myself before turning to follow Daphne. I’m sort of surprised by my snide thought and then I realize, as the only girl representative from my little tight knit group, I’m feeling very possessive over Hammy and Jack. Especially Hammy. Someone has to fight for him in AJ’s absence, right? However, I’m not surprised to find that the line for the girls’ bathroom is a mile long. Isn’t it always this way? What is it about guys that makes them never have to endure this sort of wait?
“So. Trevor is like wicked good at corn hole,” I mutter, hoping to strike up conversation with Daphne.
She laughs and offers me a nod. “Yeah. He is. He’s pretty much amazing at everything he does,” she says with admiration.
“How did you guys meet?”
“He gave me my first tattoo.” She smiles down at me and then I watch as her gaze begins to go through me as she recollects the story. “I was nineteen, which was an interesting year for me, and I wanted to do something rebellious. When I walked into the shop, he happened to be at the counter. I told him kind of what I wanted and I started flipping through books of samples to try and see if I could find it, and then he offered to freehand something for me.
“The cool thing about Trevor and his art is that it comes with a story; so as he drew, he asked me to kind of explain why I wanted what I wanted. Fifteen minutes later, I was in the chair. We’ve been friends ever since.”
I marvel at the way she talks about him. Maybe it’s because I’m in love and I want everyone else to be able to feel what I’m feeling, or maybe it’s because what I’m hearing is actually there—but it sounds like Trevor is her Sonny. “You said draw. You’ve got script on your arm. Does that mean you have more tattoos?” I ask as we move forward in line.
The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) Page 24
