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Page 19
As we walk toward the bar, nerves permeate my blood. My stomach is nauseous and my heartbeat pounds in my ears. The closer we get, the louder it pounds.
Yep, this is definitely love—this feeling of seasickness, the butterflies, the nerves. Why did it take so long for the truth to dawn on me?
Probably because I was doing everything I could to just stay mad. It’s hard to stay mad now that I know the truth. We’re sort of even, I suppose, when it comes to the reasons why we initially dated, and I really believe him when he says he’s over Amanda. The way he looks at me, the way he fucked me…those should’ve been my first clues that he’s done with his ex.
Stella’s is a brand new bar when we walk in. Where it used to theme toward slightly rustic country, it’s now modern and clean. Everything is black, white, or gray, including the walls, floors, booths, and bar. It’s beautiful, actually, and it feels like a trendy new place to hang out.
In my observations of the new interior, I don’t spot the person I came in looking for. My eyes land on each face for a millisecond before moving to the next, but not a single face matches the one I need to see.
“Shit,” Emme mutters.
“What?”
“This is way nicer than The Port.”
I shrug. “So?”
“So we’re going to lose business.”
“Sounds like a task for The Port’s top promoter.”
Emme rolls her eyes at me. “You think?”
I hold up both hands. “Touchy, touchy.”
“Axel put in a bid to buy The Port,” she blurts.
“What?” My jaw drops. For one thing, I didn’t know The Port was for sale, and I also wasn’t aware that Axel had the funds to do such a thing.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody. He and Carter are going in on it together.”
The picture clarifies. “So he’s going to be around even more than we thought he might be.”
She nods.
“And that’s a good thing,” I say.
She nods again as a tiny smile plays at her pretty mouth. “Yeah. I think for you, that’s a great thing.”
“I think so, too,” I murmur. I spot Axel walk through the doorway and take a look around before his eyes land on Emme. I can’t help the feeling of warmth that spreads through me when I watch his eyes soften as he spots her.
Axel walks up behind Emme and slides his arms around her waist, leans down, and nuzzles her neck. Her lips lift in a smile before she turns to greet him.
I check behind him, but Carter is not with him.
Axel’s eyes land on me, and he chuckles. I really think I’m being covert, but clearly, my inquiry is not lost on him. “He’s not here.”
I draw my eyebrows together as if I don’t know what he’s talking about. “Who?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You know who.”
“She loves him,” Emme blurts, and I glare at her.
“Emme, shut up.”
“You told her, didn’t you?” Axel asks.
She presses her lips together and pretends to zip them before tossing away the imaginary key.
“She told me,” I confirm. “Nothing’s safe with this one. Congrats on your bid for The Port, too. I hope you get it.”
Axel rolls his eyes. “Thanks. Note to self, if I want to keep a secret, don’t tell Emme.”
“I learned that a long time ago.”
“Hey!” Emme protests. “I can keep a secret!”
“No you can’t,” Axel and I say in unison, and the three of us laugh.
“But don’t worry, Axel,” I say. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He raises a brow.
“I promise. Nothing on the blog until you ask me to, and then I’ll blast The Port from the rooftops because I love you and I love that place.”
“Thanks, Court.” He glances around. “Looks like I’m gonna need the free advertising.”
I shrug. “The Port’s got its own niche. Emme and I are here to help.”
“I know.” He nods his head toward Emme. “Is she serious about the love thing? You’re in love with Carter?”
I shrug.
His eyes harden. “If you’re not sure, don’t fuck with him.”
“I’m sure.” My voice is small. Axel can be the nicest guy in the world, or he can be scary as fuck. This is his scary-as-fuck face.
“Then I have a little secret: he’s over at The Port. Kasey had a family emergency and can’t make it in until ten and I couldn’t find another bartender on short notice. I promised Emme I’d meet her here, so he’s filling in for the next hour, and he could probably use some help. The guy doesn’t even know how to make a fucking Paloma.”
“My signature drink? Allow me to instruct.” I turn toward the door, and then I turn back to my best friend and Axel. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” they say together.
“Hopefully I’ll be back with him in an hour.”
“Go get him,” Emme says. She winks at me.
I smile back nervously, and then I head out the door and toward my favorite bar in the world so I can tell the man I’m in love with how I really feel.
* * *
The walk over to The Port is lonely and a little scary. It’s not scary because it’s dangerous—in fact, I’ve never felt safer than I do in my little part of the world. There are people out and about, and we take care to look after one another.
It’s scary because of what I’m about to do.
It’s only a couple of blocks. I turn down a street and walk straight. I pass familiar bars, shops, and restaurants. I see businesses closed since it’s a Sunday night. I see familiar people milling about on the sidewalks, and I know I’m headed toward something that could possibly end in rejection.
Sure, Emme just told me Carter is in love with me. My fear is that love isn’t enough. It should be, but it’s possible I went too far with my post about him. It’s possible that what I did was even worse than what he did, and it took my best friend to help me see that.
It’s so easy to act and do whatever we want in life without seeing the other perspective. It’s hard to see that our opponents think they’re in the right just as much as we do.
I couldn’t see past my own wounds to recognize that maybe he was hurting just as much, if not more. I hit him where it would hurt the most, and it carried over to all aspects of his life while it just furthered my own career. It brought me more readers while damaging some of his budding professional relationships—hopefully not irreparably.
I’m glad we talked it out, but our conversation and subsequent commitment to friendship didn’t make me feel any better.
I just want to feel his lips against mine. I want to see him and not feel hurt.
I walk into The Port. It’s crowded for a Sunday night, and I immediately wonder if Stella’s will steal business once it opens its doors to the public. I hope not, because I feel like I have a stake in this place, too, even though I don’t actually work here and am not the one who put in a bid to purchase it. It’s an important part of my life, and I don’t want to see it suffer.
My eyes almost immediately find Carter. He’s behind the bar adding a variety of liquors to a shaker while he glances down at something next to him. I can tell from the way it lights up his face that it’s his cell phone, and I chuckle as I realize he’s reading a drink recipe from his phone.
For a guy who’s possibly going to be part owner of a bar, it’s actually sort of hilarious that he has to look up drink recipes on his phone.
I watch from the doorway for a few beats, needing to work up the courage to actually do this. My feet took me this far, but it’s my heart that needs to close the remaining distance. He’s so handsome there behind the bar with his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he studies his phone. He runs a hand through his hair and grips the ends for a second before he dumps whatever he’d been making down the sink.
A small line is forming on one side of the bar, and from where I’m standing,
I see at least three people trying to get his attention.
He’s by himself back there, and I actually can’t believe Axel left him alone. He clearly needs help, so I finally take a deep breath, stride over toward the bar, and duck under the counter. I stand beside him. “Need some help?”
He glances up at me, and surprise registers first. Then I see the desperation. “Yes. How the fuck do you make a Long Island Iced Tea?”
I giggle. “I’ve got you. See who needs beer or wine and I’ll take the mixed drinks.”
I set to work on a Long Island, and he points out who ordered it. I’ve been here enough times that I know how it works, plus I had a short stint as a bartender in college. I put my skills to work. I shout out beer and wine orders to Carter while I make perfect cocktails, and we find a rhythm almost immediately. I run to the kitchen to put in food orders and run back with appetizers and bar food—which, by the way, reminds me that this place might need a bit of a menu upgrade when it gets its new owners. I leave the money matters to Carter since he’s the one who was left in charge, so while he cashes out checks and runs credit cards, I take orders and chat with a few patrons I recognize as regulars.
It never slows down. We’re both running around, but somehow it works. Somehow we make the perfect team, and I even get a quick chance to show him how to make a Long Island.
Kasey shows up just before ten, and I can’t help but laugh at the relief evident on Carter’s face.
He fills her in on the open tabs and we wrap up a few orders as Kasey transitions into tending to the customers. Then, just like that, our little stint as bartender teammates ends.
We walk out the front doors of The Port together. “To Stella’s?” he asks.
“Yeah. But, uh, actually…can we talk as we walk?”
“Sure.”
We start the trek back toward Stella’s. “I actually came to The Port to see you.”
“To see me?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I stop walking because we’re at the end of the block. We’re at a red light, and I try to ignore the symbolism. I’m not sure if I should stop or go ahead with what I want to say. Maybe if it were yellow, that would’ve meant more—I’d know I needed to proceed with caution. Or green—green means go, proceed, and that’s what I want. But red…red scares me. Red tells me that this is all wrong, but I don’t want it to be wrong. We both stare across the intersection at the little box that tells us not to walk.
I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to be friends with you.” My words rush out in a terrified torrent.
I feel his eyes on me, so I turn to look at him.
“You…you don’t?”
I can tell my words hurt him; I can tell he took what I said completely wrong.
I close my eyes and take another breath as I shake my head. “No. Carter, no. We aren’t meant to be friends.”
“We’re not?” His brows draw together in confusion, and I note a hint of sadness in his posture.
His reaction tells me everything I need to know. I reach over and take his hand; it’s warm and inviting in mine, comforting, strong.
I link my fingers through his, and the feel of his skin on mine is right. This is how it’s supposed to be.
I look at our joined hands, and then I look up into his eyes. I see the fear there. I see the hurt. I see the sadness. I just hope that what I’m about to say will change all of that to something else.
People start walking past us, but I don’t see them. I think maybe the light has changed and it’s okay for us to walk now, but it doesn’t register with me. It’ll all be there after I say what I need to say. The world around us will keep spinning either way, but my world is standing right here in front of me.
“I love you.” I say the words quietly because they’re just for us, and then I watch his reaction.
He stares at me in confusion for a few beats, almost as if he didn’t hear me correctly. “You…what?”
“I love you,” I repeat a little louder.
“You love me?”
I nod and smile reassuringly. “I do, and it’s terrifying to tell you that.”
His eyes soften as it all finally registers. The corners of his lips tip up. “It’s terrifying?”
I nod. He hasn’t told me how he feels yet. I feel the fear creeping in, but I said what I needed to. The ball’s in his court now.
He turns in toward me and takes a step, and I’m not sure why, but I take a step back. We move like this until I feel a cold, hard brick wall against my back.
I’m out of room, and his hips come against mine to pin me there.
“You love me?” he whispers, his eyes hot on mine.
“So much,” I whisper.
His eyes flick down to my lips before moving back up to my eyes, and then, without warning, his mouth crashes down to mine.
It’s an aggressive kiss, this one, the way his tongue batters fiercely against mine and his lips bruise mine. He’s marking his territory with this kiss, and not just physically. He’s leaving his stamp right on my heart and all the way through to my soul. He’s making a statement on the busy sidewalk in the middle of San Diego. We’re two souls destined to wind up together, and despite the rough start, here we are about to try once more.
This time, I really think it’s going to stick.
He pulls back and leans his forehead against mine, then closes his eyes and draws in a steadying breath. Despite the fact that he just kissed me like he needed me to breathe, he still hasn’t said it back. He still hasn’t told me he loves me, too, and that fact leaves a shadow of fear in my heart.
Then he says the words that ease every fear I have, words that will stay in my heart and wrap around me in warmth in good times and in bad, words I think I’ll remember forever.
“I love you, too, Courtney. I loved you the second I ran into you on Dog Beach. I always believed it could happen to me like it did for my parents, and as soon as we met, I knew it would always be you. Can we just forget about the mistakes of our past and focus on a future that includes your hand in mine?”
I nod as tears form in my eyes. For a moment, I can’t speak around the lump in my throat.
“A future that includes breakfast burritos and the occasional pizza and a road trip that ends up in Canada?”
“We’ll see about the pizza, but there’s no one I’d rather drive across the country with,” I finally say. “I just have to renew my passport.”
He laughs, and then he grabs hold of me around my waist. He lifts me up and swings me around in a circle before setting me back on the ground and hugging me tightly against him.
He kisses me again there on the sidewalk, and I never want this moment to end.
* * *
We don’t make it back to Stella’s; we have too much making up for lost time to do.
Instead, we practically run back to my place. Mine is closer than his, and he has that whole Axel-roommate thing going on until he moves into his house. My place is empty, which means our make-up-slash-new-commitment-to-one-another sex can be as loud and raunchy as we want it to be.
The sex god does not disappoint.
We barely make it through my front door before his hands are everywhere on my body. He runs them over my breasts and he cups my ass. His mouth hurtles down to mine. There’s no tenderness here. That moment on the sidewalk when he said those sweet words, when he gently rested his forehead to mine—that moment is gone. Now we’ve declared our love, and it’s time for our bodies to use the language they know best.
He tears my dress over my head and tosses it haphazardly on the floor. I pull his shirt out from his pants and practically tear it off of him. I think buttons go flying, but I’m too desperate to feel his body to care. He doesn’t care, either. He kicks off his shoes and pushes his jeans down his legs in a rush as he stares at my black lace bra and panty set. A carnal growl rises up from his chest as his eyes heat with lust.
“I can’t get to you fast enough,” he says, and then he steps out of his pa
nts and my hands go immediately to his abs.
“God, I’ve missed these,” I say.
He grins wickedly at me and roughly paws at my breasts. “And I’ve missed these.”
In a flash, my bra is on the floor and my nipple is in his mouth. He tugs at it, sucks with a practiced finesse, and I feel like I could fall apart beneath him from just the foreplay.
His fingers dive into my panties, and it’s just three quick swipes against my clit before the first signs of the Epic Quake make my knees rattle together.
“Oh God,” I yell out, and he plunges a finger into me. My body sucks him in as I contract all around him. I grab his shoulder with a death grip, digging my nails into him as my body shakes and the waves of pleasure wash through my entire being.
“Jesus, that was fast,” he says once my body starts to relax.
I giggle. “I was ready for you.”
“Obviously,” he teases, pulling his glistening finger out of me so we can both see how wet it is.
I raise both eyebrows and shrug. “Like you’re gonna last any longer than I just did.”
“Just call me Two-Pump Chump, baby.”
“I’ll let the first one slide since it took all of three seconds for me, but once your batteries recharge, you’re taking me slowly. For the rest of the night. Over and over.”
“I can’t think of anything I want more. Now let me inside that tight pussy so we can get the party started.”
I giggle and tear my panties down my legs as I watch him lower his boxers, and then he lifts me up like I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries us over to the couch because it’s the closest surface that looks semi-comfortable. He lays me down, hovers over me, and then he swipes his rock-hard cock through me. “No condom?” he asks.
I nod. We don’t need to have that awkward conversation to ruin this moment. We’re two consenting adults, and while maybe I don’t know every detail about his sexual history, I do know he was in a committed relationship, and I trust that he would never do anything to put me in any sort of danger.