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Whiskey Kisses

Page 7

by Addison Moore


  Holt glides his arm around my waist, and I let out a sigh that was ten years in the making.

  “First slow dance?” He cocks his head just enough to make my bones melt.

  I give a slight nod. Each time Holt asks a question, I feel as if I’m giving him another part of the puzzle. Too bad I’m missing a few pieces—the ones that fit over my heart. My father took those with him.

  He leans in, and I groan as the warmth of his chest heats over mine.

  Who knew Holt Edwards had the power to reduce me to cinder. I’ve danced plenty in my life—dancing is my life. But I’ve never done it with anybody else—at least not in this close proximity—with someone like Holt. Not once did I imagine it would feel like this—like a dream exploding into life, and here it is. I glance down at our legs touching in all the right places.

  “Baby steps, kitten,” he whispers with his hot breath raking over my neck.

  I arch my head back and take in my fill, drink it down, savor it for later. This is it. My life has hit its zenith with Holt Edwards at the helm of this newfound revolution taking place inside me.

  “Baby steps,” I whisper.

  I run my hand over his back, lower still until my arm wraps fully around his waist. My body loosens as if I had just untangled a knot I’ve been working on for a decade.

  His cologne holds the scent of sandalwood and spices from the orient—something richer than the one he wore the first night.

  “So you still up for giving this beginner a few pointers?” I offer his back a light scratch.

  “You bet.” Holt smolders into me as if he’s ready to give me a whole lot more than I bargained for. “You did great at dinner. And you’re killing the dance floor.”

  “So what’s next?” I wet my lips without meaning to.

  A tall, dark-haired guy, the one that Roxy introduced as her boyfriend the other day, pops up with his phone pointed at us. “Anything you’d like to say to the happy couples?”

  “Not now, Cole.” Holt spins us around, but his friend is Johnny on the spot with the camera pointed right at us again.

  “Congratulations!” I sing into the small rectangle. “I wish you many happy years. You deserve it—all of you.”

  “Ditto,” Holt snarls at his buddy and tells him to take off by way of hitching his head.

  “What’s the matter, Holty boy? You a little tongue tied?” Cole breaks out in a wicked grin. It’s obvious he’s enjoying the hell out of this. “I tell you what. I’m about to turn on the kiss cam for the night. Why don’t you two kick us off?”

  “No thanks.” Holt pushes the camera away, but it’s becoming quickly obvious Cole is committed to the cause. “Listen up, everybody! Any couple willing to smooch for the kiss cam tonight gets a drink on the house.”

  “That’s coming out of your tips.” Holt tries to turn us away from his friend’s digital wrath, but Cole is stealth and right back in our face with his cell phone.

  “First couple of the night,” he bellows. “Will they or won’t they?”

  Oh shit. My heart seizes. My muscles cramp up. My entire body pulsates with a heartbeat of its own.

  Slowly the bodies on the dance floor come to a stop, and, before I know it, half the bar is focused in on us.

  “You in, kitten?” Holt looks sorry for me, hurt that I’d have to be subject to this at all.

  I nod just once as if it were all my body could afford—probably is.

  Holt leans in and whispers, “You don’t have to do this. I own the bar. You can have any drink any time.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring me of my newly minted booze on command status.

  “Maybe I want to earn my drink like everybody else.” Did those words just come out of my mouth? “I mean, you did say you’d be willing to teach me everything,” I whisper. “I’m in.”

  It’s as if a flare just went off straight through my skull, blowing out every self-imposed sanction I’ve ever given myself. A shiver rails through me, shaving me down to the bone at the prospect of kissing Holt right here in front of everyone. It feels dreamlike, like something that borders a nightmare, and you’re not sure what direction it’ll take.

  My heart bangs in my chest as if it’s trying to tap out. The floor starts to sway all on its own. There’ve been a few boys who have tried to sneak in a kiss over the years. Of course, each one of those episodes ended with me bolting. My legs start to shift as if preparing for the sprint to my car. I hike my shoulder up without thinking—affirming the fact I’ve still got my purse with me. I can always make up some lame excuse if my feet decide to carry me to the parking lot. It’s worked before.

  The crowd breaks out in a chant of kiss, kiss, kiss, and I can feel our heads magnetizing toward one another. Here it is. A moment I thought I never wanted, and yet, all of a sudden, I don’t think I can live without.

  My heart leaps into my throat, thrashing around like a fish out of water. My body explodes with the heat of a nuclear explosion. Holt’s lids grow heavy until finally they close. He comes in until our lips brush over one another soft as melted butter, and a spasm of heat rips through me from head to toe.

  An audible moan gets trapped in my chest as I lean in for more. Holt meets me right there as his lips move slowly over mine, warm, so incredibly cushioned. The crowd with their wild cheers—the music—the bar, it all fades to nothing as Holt gently pulls his lips over mine. Then the unthinkable happens. My mouth falls open, and I let him in. His teeth clash with mine. His tongue comes to me with a gentle sweep at first then an all out aggression as it mingles with mine. My stomach explodes with a thousand butterflies with wings of fire, and the flames sear right down to my feet.

  This is my moment—our moment, and I wish nothing more than for the dance floor to swallow us whole so we can be alone, doing just this, surrendering to one another for the rest of time immemorial. Holt and I are teetering on my own personal oblivion, staring down each one of my demons in the face. This, right here, is where the old me ends and the new me begins—with Holt Edwards—with his gentle persuasive kisses, I think I can cross the threshold and make it to the other side.

  Mostly.

  Holt

  Holy shit.

  Here it is. The summer I’ve waited for my entire life.

  My insides grind. Ready or not, I’m coming to life in my boxers. For what it’s worth, I’m struggling to keep it together. It’s so easy to buy into the fact this is just another wet dream starring Izzy Sawyer. There’s no way I’m publically making out with Izzy during waking hours right here at the bar.

  Her tongue moves over mine, smooth and slow. For as much as she’s hinted she’s new at all this, she’s pretty damn good at what she’s doing. Kissing Izzy is like falling into a warm lake at midnight. It’s paradise, bliss, one erotic second after the other.

  “Hey.” Bryson comes up from behind. “Your parents are here, so is her mom. Keep it G, dude.” He walks on by as if he never said a word.

  I pull back and take her in. Her lips are rosy, her cheeks flushed, and she’s looking up at me with a dreamy look in her eye. At least that’s what my ego is feeding me.

  “You okay?” I’m half afraid she’ll slap me straight and run for the exit.

  “I’m fine.” She shakes her head as if coming out of a trance. “Wow.” Her gaze falls to her feet. “Thank you for that.”

  “Thank you.” I raise my brows. “I believe I owe you a drink. Whiskey?”

  “Only the best.” She gives a quick wink. “But I’m driving, so I’ll take a rain check.”

  The music picks up pace, and the dance floor swarms with a small army of girls spontaneously kicking off their heels. Laney bumps her hip into Izzy.

  “Podiatrist.” She glares at her sister a moment before offering me a dry smile. I’ve seen that look on Laney’s face enough to know she’s more than a little pissed.

  “Podiatrist?”

  “It’s my Wednesday night fright.” Her shoulders hike to her ears. The light shines from her
lips, and I want to kiss it off. “The next date on the list.”

  The thought of Izzy going out on a date with anyone but me fills my stomach with battery acid.

  “Sounds like you might need a little more practice to help get things off on the right foot.” Shit. Did I just say that? What I should have said was forget the foot doctor, and let me take you somewhere so we can replicate that kiss over and over.

  “Practice, huh?” Her body tenses against mine as she holds back a laugh.

  Great. Make her think that kiss was anything less than stellar.

  “No, that’s not right. You’ve got it down, Iz,” I whisper so low I’m not sure she heard. “You’re perfect.” She takes a breath as her body presses against my chest. She looks up, and, for one glorious second, I think she’s gunning for another kiss. Izzy takes a full step back and irons out her jeans with her hands. I reel her back in by the fingers. “If you want that whiskey, you can come to my place anytime. I serve it with grilled cheese and a smile just so you know what you’re getting yourself into, kitten.”

  She swallows hard. “Maybe I will. And maybe you can help me work on my lip-lock. I think you’re right. I’m a little rusty.”

  I shake my head. “You’re not rusty.” Izzy can give pointers to every girl I’ve ever been with. That might have been her first kiss in a while, but what she was offering was miles ahead of the game compared to anything I’ve ever received. Izzy’s kiss, much like the rest of her, is sheer perfection. “But I’m not one to turn a person away when they’re in need of help.” I hold back the goofy grin trying to etch itself over my face. Just the thought of tasting those lips again has my body begging to defy gravity.

  “You’re a good friend.” Her eyes widen when she says that last word.

  Friend.

  And there it is. That’s all Izzy wants with me—a friendship. But I’m getting the feeling that’s all she wants with anyone. Ironic since that’s me in a nutshell.

  Annie bounces over and signs to me.

  “She says my parents want to speak with me for a minute.”

  “No problem. I’d better head home before my cats think I’ve abandoned them. If I’m gone too long they have a tendency to drown my nightie in their water bowl.”

  “Sounds like they enjoy seeing you naked.” Crap.

  That’s right. Show her you have no filter, and see how many months go by without seeing her again. It was five last time. Not that she was running from me, but that didn’t stop me from counting the hours.

  “Naked?” Izzy belts out a laugh and her teeth glitter in turn. “I guess they’re typical boys.” She touches her hand to my cheek and holds it there a moment. “Good night, Holt.” I watch as she sways her hips all the way out the door, and my heart breaks because every last part of me wishes I were going with her.

  Annie leads me to the back where we have a table and chairs set out for employee breaks. Mom sits off to the side with a decidedly ticked-off expression, and I can’t say I blame her. Jenny is seated square on my dad’s knees, giving him what looks like the lap dance of the century while my father holds her at the hips.

  I slap Bryson some skin. “Congrats, bro.”

  “You up for best man?” He pulls me into a half hug.

  “You bet.” That almost guarantees I’ll get to dance with Izzy again, and this time I can’t help the goofy grin from blooming on my face.

  “So you and Sawyer, huh?” He shakes his head as if scolding me on some level. “Is it the real deal?”

  I glance over to Mom who looks far more lonely than she ever has before, and it both pisses me off and breaks my heart.

  “Nah, Iz and I are just friends.” For a second there I almost forgot I destroy relationships, not build them. Regardless, Izzy’s not up for some traditional relationship, at least not with me. I guess we’ll see how things pan out with the foot doctor on Wednesday. In fact, I think I’ll add myself to the schedule that night so I can see firsthand where this goes. “So what’s up?”

  I pull a seat out for Annie, and she takes it.

  Dad clears his throat. “I’ve come to a rather sad conclusion.” He glances at my mother then to Bryson and me. “I’ll be putting the bars up on the market.”

  “What?” Bryson is shocked as shit for the both of us.

  “Its simply time. They’ve had a good run, but my head’s no longer in it.” He pats his girlfriend on the knee to let us know exactly where his little head is at. “There’s no point in going forward. This was once a joint venture between your mother and I, and I’ve held onto them longer than I needed to. I’ve already agreed to help pay half of Annie’s education. And, Bryson, I’ll do the same for you until you finish up with your masters, but that’s all she wrote. The bars—much like your mother and I—are history.”

  My fist glides over my palm just hearing him talk about her that way. She gave him everything, and he’s just sitting there grinding his heel into what they once had. I hate him—I hate me for this.

  “So what’s next?” I ask as if I didn’t know. I get the ax, that’s what’s next.

  “I’m going to work it out with the new owner to keep the staff, at least for a little while. And, whatever you do, I wouldn’t tell anyone just yet. Trust me, you’ll have a mutiny by morning if people think they’ll be losing their jobs. I don’t want to spook anyone.” He gets up and wraps an arm around his new gal pal as if it were perfectly normal, and I’m afraid that’s exactly what it is—the new normal.

  They take off, and Bryson gives me a light sock to the arm.

  “You all right, man?”

  “I’m great. Just a little caught off guard.”

  Mom comes over and gives us each a hug. “Don’t worry. It’ll all work out I promise.”

  I nod as if I believed it, but, the truth is, nothing is going to work out. I’m about to lose the one thing I had that was real in my life, this damn piece of real estate.

  Bryson has Baya and his shiny new degree. Annie has a bright future which starts in a few short weeks at Whitney Briggs. And what do I have? A front row seat as the girl of my dreams dates a podiatrist. Nothing more.

  That kiss from earlier comes back strong, and a surge of adrenaline spikes through me, vying for hope.

  There’s something more brewing between Izzy and me.

  I can feel it, and judging by that kiss, so can she.

  5

  Touching You, Touching Me

  Izzy

  Dad,

  Every now and again I get thrown for a loop. I’ve worked so hard to build this fort around me, and sometimes I get tired of holding up the walls. It’s so damn heavy. Sometimes I just want to be normal. Is there such a thing?

  Confused,

  ~Iz

  Wednesday morning, the sun splits through a crack in the curtains and blinds me with its overbearing exuberance. It’s not that I can’t appreciate a nice sunny day, but I happened to be enjoying where my mind had wandered off to and sort of wanted to linger. I haven’t had a dream like that in, well, never. I was at Holt’s apartment, and we were in the middle of a mad video game session just laughing our asses off, staring at the screen, neither one of us willing to lose. Something about the whole scene, about being with Holt and just having a good time with him made me happy.

  A tail lashes over my face and tickles my nose.

  “Sneezy.” I push him away and accidentally slide him right off the bed. “Oops, sorry.”

  That dream felt so real. It felt good, comfortable hanging out with Holt like that. Usually I’m repelled by men, and, yet, with Holt it’s like I can’t get enough.

  I stumble out of bed and into the living room. There’s so much to do before next Thursday, the big twenty-year anniversary of the studio. And it’s been twice as stressful since I’m planning a few surprises for my mother. It’s impossible to keep anything from her.

  The cats congregate around my ankles with their good morning wails, tripping me twice on the way to the kitchen. The strong
smell of cigarette smoke comes from the living room, and I head in that direction.

  “Would you knock that off?” I burst in to find Greasy D lying on the couch with one hand down his pants and the TV on low. “We don’t smoke.” Or masturbate in open areas of the house, but I leave that part out for now.

  “Well, darlin’—I do.” He takes a hit and blows a mini tornado from his thin, greasy lips. His gray hair is sticking straight up, what little he has left, and his stubble looks as if his face has been sprayed with silver shards.

  “Mom?” My voice escalates in horror. If anything she’ll go batshit when she sees he’s lit one up, and that alone will be worth the show.

  “She ain’t here. She was up early and out the door while your lazy ass was sawing logs.”

  “And what exactly is it that your lazy ass does?” I’m so pissed. I’m shaking. Usually I don’t mean to chase away my mother’s boyfriends, it sort of happens by default, but this is one I’d like to missile launch into space.

  “I’m looking after you.” He gives a quick wink and rides his stoned-out eyes over my tank top and shorts in a tactile manner. I can feel those invisible hands roving over me as I cry out for my mother all those years ago. Instinctually I cover my chest and head for the kitchen. I think it’s time to have a talk with Mom. I don’t know why the hell she’d want a moron like Greasy D in her life.

  And why is she such a magnet for creeps, anyway?

  The studio has a few extra cars in the lot, and I know for a fact one of them belongs to my sweet baby sis. It’s odd since Laney hasn’t been here in ages.

  I head in and say a quick hello to Bella, the girl who has worked behind the front desk for the last five years. She was the first person I hired when I took the reins from my mother. Well, not officially. Mom runs a tight ship, but she graciously handed over a majority of the grunt work once I began working here fulltime. The only duty she’s held onto was the books, and, truthfully, money management has never been my forte as evidenced by my under-the-mattress method of personal banking.

 

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