“I just do, okay? It’s an issue I have to work out with myself. But I also know you think where I work isn’t safe, and I understand why you’d think that, but I like my job, and I like the way my life is going. So what if I met a guy in a truck stop? Does it matter? I hope you would have a little more faith in my judgment.”
We stand there staring at each for what seems like ages, which in all actuality is probably a few seconds before she nods her head.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“I know.” I step forward, taking her hands in mine. “Just please trust me to know what I’m doing.”
“I do. I will. I worry about you, that’s all. These past couple of years have been rough on you even though you don’t want to admit it. But I’ll try not to judge anymore.”
“Yes, you will, because that’s who you are. Just try to tone it down a little for my sake?” I laugh.
“You’re right. I probably will, but know I only do it because I love you.” She laughs, too.
I gather her in a hug and tell her I love her, too.
“All right, now I’m going to take a shower.”
“Good, because you stink.” She laughs, releasing me from our embrace.
“Bitch. I’d say you stink, too, but I bought you that perfume for Christmas and we both know I have amazing taste in perfume.”
“Whatever. Go take a shower so we can leave,” she says, shoving me in the direction of the bathroom.
Downtown Savannah at night is a sight to behold. People move about the streets and squares in herds. Vehicles drive at a snail’s pace, trying not to hit the drunken masses. Music blares from outside the nightclubs. But City Market is the place to be on a Friday or Saturday night. Located in the heart of the Historic District, it’s famous for its restaurants and bars. Lights wrap around the limbs of trees, casting a soft glow throughout the outdoor space.
Tonight a local band is playing outside of Wild Wings. As we make our way to the cluster of tables and chairs, we’re lucky to find an empty spot. Quickly, we snag the only table left. Just as we’re sitting down, two guys begin walking in our direction. Jen turns to me after she waves them over, catching my what-the-fuck-face.
“It’s Turner and his friend–”
“Lyle,” Turner’s friend says as they reach our table.
My eyes scan their frames. Both of them are extremely attractive and tall. Instead of light brown hair like Turner, Lyle has dark hair like mine. Turner sports a very enticing pair of dimples and deep blue eyes. His cheeks are a little on the fuller side, but his strong jaw makes up for it. Lyle, on the other hand, has sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, a lean runner’s build, and a striking set of green eyes.
“Nice to meet you,” I offer as I look from Lyle to Turner and back.
Their chairs scrape against the concrete as they slide them away from the table.
“Turner, Lyle, this is Kelsey, my best friend and roommate.” Jen smiles as she introduces us.
“And this is Jen.” Turner introduces her to Lyle as he scoots his chair closer to her.
My eyebrows shoot up in suspicion at her, and she barely shakes her head, negating my assumption.
“Did you ladies happen to get a drink yet?” Lyle asks.
“No, but we were just about to.” I scoot my chair back.
“No worries. I got it.” Turner stands along with Lyle.
“What do y’all want?” Lyle asks.
I turn to Jen and she nods with a smile on her face.
“A shot of Patron and margaritas, on the rocks with salt please.”
“Ah-ha… my kind of ladies,” Turner says with a smirk. “We’ll be right back.”
As soon as their backs are turned to us, Jen leans into me with a grin on her face.
“Sooooo?”
“They’re all right.” I shrug my shoulders, choosing to stay impassive.
“All right? Are you fucking crazy? They’re gorgeous,” she scoffs.
“Turner seems into you.” I deflect the conversation away from me as I look at her with a grin of my own.
“Eh. He may be gorgeous, but I’m just not sure he’s my type of guy.”
“What do you mean? You think he’s gorgeous. You work together, so he obviously has an education and makes a decent living for himself. “
“I guess tonight will determine if I like him or not. I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “He’s kind of stuffy at work, and you know I am the farthest thing from stuffy.”
“Stuffy? Really?” I laugh at her choice of words.
“What? At work, he’s all about business. I’ve always thought he was easy on the eyes, but I’m just not sure we have anything in common. I’m a smartass and tend to tell it like it is, and he’s not.”
“And how do you know that?” I ask. “This is the first time you guys have ever hung out outside of work, right?”
She nods.
“Then give him a chance.”
“We’ll see.”
Five shots and three margaritas later, I’m laughing so hard I can barely see. The music blends in with our laughter and I have a hell of a buzz.
“Oh my God! You did not,” Jen shrieks as Turner finishes his story.
“Lyle just sat there, not knowing what to do.” Turner laughs.
“You should have seen my face. I swear it was like all the blood drained out of my body, I was so pale. All I could do was stare at the missing strip of hair down the middle of my head.” Lyle shakes his head, trying to catch his breath.
“How old were you two when all of this happened?” I ask after taking a sip of my margarita.
Lyle looks to Turner as he shrugs. “Twelve, maybe thirteen? Hell, I don’t know. All I knew was I wanted a damn haircut and he offered.”
I shake my head and then melancholy sweeps over me. I have no memories to compare to something like that.
Sure, I had fun as a kid, just in a different way. I had no childhood friends to help cut my hair and butcher it in the same sense. No. I had fun with my nanny playing hide-and-seek with me.
Silence falls over the four of us. The fuzziness in my head from all the alcohol has me doing something I wouldn’t normally do. I turn to Lyle with a smile on my face.
“Want to dance with me?” I ask as the band begins to play their own rendition of Aerosmith’s Crazy.
A smile spreads across his face as he pushes his chair away from the table. I begin to do the same when he says, “May I?”
I’m not going to lie, a little part of me swoons at his chivalry. I nod.
“Of course.”
Lyle helps me with my chair and then offers me his hand. I smile at him as I accept his offer. We walk towards the makeshift dance floor in front of the band. As soon as we reach our destination, he spins me out and away from him before reeling me back, causing me to burst out in laughter. When he places both of his hands on my hips, my hands snake their way up the hard planes of chest before wrapping around his neck.
“You look nice tonight.”
After showering, I walked into my room to see that Jen had laid out a pair of whitewash denim skinny jeans, a tan tank top with cream lace embroidered on top of the fabric, and a brown pea coat with beige buttons. I paired the outfit with a pair of cream-colored wedges. I had decided to leave my hair down and makeup to a minimal with only some eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick.
“Thanks. And you do, too.”
In a pair of denim jeans and a black button up, the shirt really accentuates his muscular frame. He does look good, really good, actually.
We sway back and forth for a little while before he whispers in my ear.
“I’m really glad I came out tonight.”
“And why’s that?” I lean back to look at him.
“Because I got to meet you and I’ve actually had a lot of fun.” He smiles.
“You know, I was a little leery of meeting you.”
Lyle throws his head back in laughter before he looks at me.
&nb
sp; “Me too. Turner has been trying to set me up for a while now.”
“No way? Jen, too.” I shake my head at the thought that Lyle actually isn’t half-bad.
“What do you do for a living?” I ask.
“I’m a family law attorney.”
My eyes go wide at his admission.
“And you?” he asks.
“She works down the road from me.”
My body freezes at that voice. His voice. I know that Lyle can tell by my wide eyes because he looks at me with concern.
“And who are you?” Lyle asks, his hands still on my hips, but we no longer sway to the tempo.
“Riley Jackson. And I believe your hands are on my date,” he states in that deep timbre of his.
I turn to look at him over my shoulder with a smirk on my face. “Well, hey there, stud.”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “Can I cut in?” he asks, looking at me but talking to Lyle.
“You know this guy?” Lyle asks, directing my attention back to him.
“Yeah.” I nod.
“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be at the table.” Lyle steps away from me, his hands falling from my hips. “She’s all yours,” he says to Riley, and in that statement, I read the innuendo. I’m all Riley’s, not just in this dance, but in more ways than one.
One set of hands replaces with another, only this time no distance is left between our bodies when Riley pulls me flush against him. I lean my head on his shoulder, my arms tucked in-between us.
“I texted you this morning,” he states, his warm breath fanning against my neck.
“I know.” I sigh. “I didn’t get a chance to text you back because by the time I woke up, it was already nine at night and my best friend wanted to go out.”
“Good thing I ran into you here then.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because otherwise, I might have lost you to that guy you were dancing with.”
“And what makes you think you have a chance?” I laugh as I pull back to look at him.
“Because I have charm.”
“So does he,” I counter.
“I have my good looks.”
“Hmm… he does too.” One of my eyebrows rises flirtatiously.
“This is my second date,” he offers.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head at him.
“Well, how about this? If you really enjoyed his company more than you do mine, then you wouldn’t have let me cut in and steal his dance.”
My eyes flick back and forth between his for a beat before I answer with a smile. “Touché.”
This past week has passed by incredibly slow. After my dance with Riley, we said our goodbyes, but not before he asked me out on a proper date. That I’m actually excited to go on is the reason for my week passing by at the pace of a turtle trying to run a race.
By the time I’d made my way back to the table, Jen was ready to go. Since it was two in the morning, I didn’t blame her. I was tired, too. We said our goodbyes to Turner and Lyle. But as we were walking off, Lyle asked if he could speak to me. I obliged his request because I really did feel bad that we didn’t get to finish our dance. He told me that he knew he didn’t have a chance in hell against Riley just by the way I looked at him, but Lyle gave me his number in case things didn’t work out. In all honesty, if I had met him first, he would have stood a good chance. Lyle was a nice enough guy and good looking, but something was missing, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
I stand in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on my makeup on for my date, and butterflies erupt in my stomach when the doorbell chimes.
“You want me to get that?” Jen yells from the living room.
“Please,” I shout back.
I run the brush through my hair a couple more times. This is as good as it’s going to get. My hair is pulled halfway up in a clip at the back of my head, leaving my neck exposed. I’ve kept my makeup to only mascara, eyeliner, blush, and red tinted lip stain.
After a couple hours of indecisiveness, I finally asked Jen to help me pick out something to wear. I thought she would pick something out of my closet, but she went running to her room and came back holding a black satin strapless dress with red fuck-me stilettos. My head shook back and forth and I told her I wasn’t sure if Riley was taking me on that kind of date. I mean, for all I knew, he could be taking me to Chili’s, and no offense, but Chili’s isn’t the place to walk in wearing something where you expect to be served a sixty-dollar plate. And in true Jen fashion, she told me that if he took me to a place like Chili’s, she’d kick his ass herself.
My hands smooth down the satiny material of the dress as I turn sideways in the mirror to check every angle. With everything looking intact, I gather my black clutch off my dresser and take one last deep breath before exiting my room. My heels click on the hardwood floors and I hear Jen and Riley talking.
“So, where are you taking my Kelsey?” Jen asks.
“A restaurant downtown,” he answers.
“And what is it you plan on doing with her afterwards?” she asks and I can’t help but laugh.
“Enough of the Spanish Inquisition, Jen.” I step next to my date’s side.
“What? I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t taking you someplace that dress doesn’t deserve to be seen in.” She shrugs. “Plus, we haven’t been properly introduced yet since we didn’t get to meet last weekend.”
I groan inwardly, knowing she was going to bring that up. After I made my way back to the table when Riley and I finished dancing, she asked who he was. I told her Riley, and she asked why he didn’t come introduce himself. All I could do was say that he needed to go, but she thought that something about that was off. But what could I say? Technically, I was dancing with another man before Riley whisked me away. What Riley was doing downtown wasn’t my business, so I didn’t bother to ask.
“Riley, this is Jen. Jen, Riley,” I say in the way of introductions as I ghost my hand back and forth between my date and my best friend.
A look crosses her face and I know she’s about to ask what happened to him last weekend, so I stop her before she even has the chance.
“I’ll see you later?” My brow rises, letting her know I’m on to her, and for her to shut it before she even starts. She stares at me for long seconds before nodding.
“Yep. Have fun and call if you need anything.”
Riley sticks his elbow out for me to take as he leads me towards the door.
“It was nice to meet you, Jen, and I promise I’ll get her home in one piece.” He smiles at her over his shoulder.
“You too,” she replies just as we step out of the apartment.
“You look stunning,” He says as soon as I shut the door behind us.
A small blush takes over at his compliment.
“Thank you. You, too.” I swear he looks like a GQ model that I could devour right here on my front step. Riley in black dress slacks and a grey button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone, could make any woman salivate. I can tell that he’s let his hair grow out a little. It’s still short on the sides, but the top is a little longer and my fingers itch to run through it.
He just smiles at me as he leads me to his car, which I swear is just as sexy as he is.
“Wow! The Army must pay you well.” I gasp when his silver Audi R8 with black rims comes into view. It’s not that I’m not accustomed to lavish vehicles. Hell, I used to own a Porsche 911 Turbo. But when I left my extravagant life behind two years ago, my car stayed with it.
“It pays all right,” he states flippantly as he shrugs and opens the door for me.
As soon as he closes the door behind him and starts the car, he says, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “So, your friend is interesting.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. Interesting is not the word I’d use for Jen. Forward, blunt, sarcastic, loyal, caring, trusting… those words suit her well.
“I’d apologize for her, but,” I shrug, “she is who
she is, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about her.”
“Fair enough.”
“So, where are you taking me?”
“Plaisir. It’s French. Have you been there?” Riley reaches across the gear shifter, placing his hand on my bare knee. The warmth of his hand on my skin propels me to place my hand on top of his.
His head swings my way. A smile pulls at his lips as he nods to something only he understands.
“No, I haven’t, but I’ve heard of it and I’m excited. I like trying out new places to eat.”
Riley looks at me out of the corners of his eyes before turning back to the road.
“Well, I’ve never been there before either, so this will be a first for the both of us.”
When we enter the restaurant, I can tell this place is popular due to the lack of empty tables. Sheer, white linens drape the windows facing the street. Pendant lights hang above the bar, giving off a soft glow. The walls are painted a soothing shade of red, which brings a romantic ambiance to the place.
“May I help you?” the hostess asks from in front of her stand.
“I have a reservation for Jackson,” Riley answers.
She smiles warmly and nods at the both of us as she collects two menus. “Right this way, sir.”
Riley places his hand on the curve of my back as we follow the hostess to our table. It’s a table for two in front of one of the windows. He pulls my chair out for me before seating himself.
“Your waiter will be right with you,” the hostess says as she hands us our menus.
“Thank you,” I answer as she walks back towards the front of the restaurant.
Just as we open our menus, a man in black slacks, a white button up shirt, and red tie appears.
“I’m Jason. I’ll be your waiter tonight. What can I get you two to drink?” he asks.
Riley peeks at me over his menu. “Would you like some wine?”
“Sure.”
“White or red?”
“Red, please.”
“We’ll take a bottle of Caymus Special Selection Cabernet.”
“Yes, sir.” Jason nods.
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