I know Cill is worried about me getting hurt over trying to pursue London, and while I appreciate that he cares about me, I’m willing to risk getting hurt for a chance to be with her.
Thirty minutes before I’m due to get off work, I’m really contemplating telling Midge I can’t go to the bar with her. It’s been our routine for nearly a year, but with my attraction to Royce growing by the second, and the space that’s growing between Hunter and me, I feel like I should stay away from Royce and spend more time with Hunter. I need to be sure that my annoyance with Hunter isn’t just because of some infatuation with Royce. It’s easy to think the person you’re with isn’t good enough just because there’s someone new and pretty around to distract you. People aren’t always new and pretty.
“Biiiiitch,” Midge says, popping around the corner. “I am dying. I’m pretty sure the grim reaper was following me around earlier. I need that drink ASAP! You almost ready to go?”
I make a face, ready to break her heart.
“Nope. Don’t do it, London. Don’t make me go drink by myself today. Please.” She puts her hands together and walks closer to me. “This is our thing. Why don’t you wanna go?”
“I’m just feeling conflicted.”
“About what?” When I look at her pointedly, she says, “Oh, Mr. Kingston getting to you, huh?”
I roll my eyes and gather my belongings. “He’s great. You know that, I know that, the town knows that.”
“But,” she offers.
“But, I have Hunter, and I can’t just quit on my relationship because Royce is nice eye candy. And I’m already feeling a disconnect with Hunter, and I need to know if that’s because things just aren’t working with us, or because subconsciously, I’m trying to break away from him for Royce.”
“What’s wrong with breaking up with him for Royce? Sometimes you just know that someone else is better suited for you.”
“I don’t know that Royce is better suited for me, though. What if I break up with Hunter, try things with Royce and find out I don’t like him as much as I thought I would?”
“Then you’d know, but the main question is do you think you and Hunter are in it for the long haul? Do you see a future there, regardless of Royce or anyone else? Because if you’d even contemplate breaking up with Hunter for anyone, you clearly don’t think he’s your soulmate.”
I take a minute to think about that, and the truth is, I’ve never thought about a future with Hunter. Not once have I thought about us moving in together or getting married. But does that mean anything? When are you supposed to start thinking about those things? Maybe it just hasn’t been long enough yet, but I don’t know if Hunter is my soulmate. There would be signs of that by now.
“I don’t know.”
“Nobody is telling you to jump into bed with Royce. You said yourself he wants to be friends. What’s wrong with that? Being friends first is always a good thing. Get to know him platonically, and you’ll know if you’re interested in more. I mean, I think we can both agree that you’d bang the shit out of him, but you know, there’s more than that.”
I start cracking up. “Oh, he could get it for sure, but I think I know what you mean.”
“So, you’re coming?” she asks with puppy dog eyes.
“Yes, I’m coming. Let’s go.”
I drop my Jetta off at home and hop into Midge’s Mini Cooper. Normally, I’m not a fan of Mini Coopers, but it totally fits Midge’s personality and style. Before we head to King’s Tavern, we stop by Antoni’s Pizzeria and grab a couple giant slices of the greasy yet delicious pizza.
“Oh my God, this is so good,” I moan.
“I know. I can’t come here as often as I want, ‘cause I’d gain five pounds a week, but Jesus McChrist this pizza is to die for,” Midge exclaims.
We sit at one of the small tables outside the restaurant, under a green and white striped awning, and continue to moan after each bite.
“I just had a sad salad for lunch today,” I say as I lick some sauce off my finger. “This completely makes up for it.”
“I didn’t eat anything but mints.”
After I swallow the last bite and lick the remaining residue from my fingers, I sigh and say, “I think I just came.”
An old lady walking her dog gasps and shakes her head as she hurries away, completely scandalized.
Midge starts cracking up. “She just clutched her pearls.”
“Oops,” I say with a giggle. “Guess I should pay attention to my surroundings.”
“Fuck it. I never do.”
I slurp down the rest of my water. “Ready?”
“Yep.”
We walk to King’s Tavern since it’s only about a block away. When we get inside, we go right to our usual seats at the bar and wait for Royce to come over.
“Ladies, you’re later than usual today.”
“Worried we weren’t gonna show?” Midge asks.
Royce glances at me. “A little.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll always have business from us,” she says with a laugh. “I’ll just take a Mojito today.”
He doesn’t bother to ask what I’m drinking, since it never changes. He gets started on our drinks and my roaming eyes can’t help but notice his biceps flex as he grabs for bottles and goes to work. His shirt isn’t too tight—not like those guys that buy them a size too small on purpose just to show off, but his muscles are definitely noticeable.
After he makes Midge’s drink, he scoops some ice into a glass and pours my Johnnie Walker over the cubes, and places it in front of me. “Sunshine.” He gives me a lopsided grin and a wink.
“Thanks,” I reply, heat rushing to my cheeks. Now that I know the story behind my nickname, it feels a little more intimate.
He rests his hip on the bar and puts his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “How was your day?” he asks, staring right at me. We keep eye contact for a few seconds before he looks at Midge and includes her. “Good? Bad?”
“Royce, why do you think we come every Wednesday? Wednesdays are bad days. Always bad,” Midge answers, taking a big drink.
“Well, hers are bad. Mine are fairly normal. Today was an okay day for me,” I say with a grin.
He smiles at me, his eyes dropping to my mouth briefly. “That’s good.” His eyes linger on my face for another couple of seconds before he focuses on Midge. “Sorry about yours, though.”
“Mmhmm,” she murmurs.
“Hey, Royce!” a man from the other side of the bar yells.
“I’ll be back,” Royce says, sauntering to the other end.
“Somebody’s got it bad,” Midge says, taking a smaller sip this time.
“Who? Not me.”
“Well, I’ll ignore that audible sigh you let out as you watched him walk away, but I wasn’t talking about you this time. The way he was looking at you? Jesus McChrist. It’s the way I look at cupcakes. A deep yearning. A longing gaze. A burning desire. An aching hunger.”
I bark out a laugh. “Okay, okay. You’re obsessed with cupcakes.”
“And he’s obsessed with you.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Midge rolls her eyes, but the truth is, the way he was looking at me had me feeling a little flushed and had my stomach tightening. He knew what he was doing, and damn did he do it well.
“Anyway,” I say, wanting to change the subject. “Let’s talk about you. Don’t think I didn’t see a bouquet of flowers being delivered to your office today.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “That would be from the guy who slept on my couch last weekend.”
“Aww!” I squeal.
“No. No aww. There are no flowers that make up for bad sex.”
“I kinda feel bad for the kid now. He clearly likes you and wanted to apologize for the bad sex. Was there a card?”
Midge sighs and digs a card out of her purse and hands it to me.
I read it aloud. “Midge, I’m sorry about Saturday. I wasn’t myself and I’m not a
shamed to admit I was a bit intimidated. If you give me another chance, I’d love to take you to dinner. Noah.”
Midge takes the card and puts it back in her purse. “Wasn’t himself?”
“He probably means from the alcohol. You know, sometimes guys have a hard time getting it up if they drink too much. Maybe that was his problem. Whiskey dick,” I state, just as Royce comes to a stop in front of us.
“What?” he asks simply, looking between us.
“Royce, true or false,” I say, “Whiskey dick is a real thing.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“You guess?” Midge questions.
“Well, yeah. There’s a fine line. Just enough alcohol will have you fucking like an animal—wild and passionate. One drink too many and your buddy will let you down when you need him most.” He pauses and shifts his gaze from Midge to me. “This isn’t a problem I’ve had, and you can’t run and tell your friends I said this either. I now know how y’all girls talk, and it’s a little frightening.”
“Not a problem you’ve had. Pft,” Midge says with a laugh. “Sure.”
“Why are we talking about this?” he asks.
“Midge’s friend from the other night? He sent her some flowers and apologized and asked her out on a proper date.”
“He apologized for whiskey dick?”
“Well, he didn’t say that specifically, but that’s what I’m assuming.”
He looks at Midge. “You gonna give him another chance?”
“Ah, I don’t know.”
When Midge doesn’t go on, he focuses his attention on me with a small smile playing on his lips. I find myself grinning back at him before I snap myself out of it.
“So, you gonna finish that story you were telling me the other day?”
“What story?” he questions, his head tilting to the right.
“You were gonna tell me what you do for fun.”
Midge almost chokes on her drink. “I’m sure I can think of one,” she mutters.
“They aren’t perverted ideas,” Royce says. “I know how to have fun outside of the bedroom too.”
“Well, I’m interested to know as well, because you always seem to be here,” she says, crossing her arms on the bar and looking at him.
“Well, I like to go hiking, but I haven’t done that in a while. I’m also a bit of a restorer.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, I’m pretty good with my hands,” he says with a wink. I playfully roll my eyes. “I may have a project I’m working on, but it’s top secret,” he says, resting his elbows on the bar and leaning toward me, putting his finger against his lips. “If I tell you, you’d have to promise not to tell anyone.”
My body instinctually leans toward him, waiting for the secret. I inhale his scent—a masculine mixture of natural musk and his cologne which smells both citrusy and woodsy. I eye his lips before connecting with his beautiful green gaze. We keep eye contact for several seconds before Royce looks to his right and sees Midge also leaning in to hear the secret. He backs up and smiles. “Maybe another time.”
“You suck,” Midge says, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him.
“Leaving me hanging again, I see,” I state, clearing my throat and hoping the thudding of my heart isn’t audible to everyone nearby.
“Interested, Sunshine. I’m just wanting to keep you interested.”
He wanders off, and as I once again stare after him as he walks away, Midge smacks my arm.
“Ow!” I squeal. “What was that for?”
“Royce is fucking hot!” she says with huge eyes. “The way you guys were leaned in, watching each other.” She fans herself. “I almost got turned on.”
“Shut up!” I say with a laugh.
“I’m serious. I think that guy over that almost reached into his pants,” she says, pointing at a man at the far end who isn’t even paying attention to us.
“Gross! Stop,” I plead, though I can’t stop laughing.
She shrugs. “I’ve never seen you and Hunter have a connection like that. Granted, Hunter barely comes around when I’m around, but still.”
“He just likes to hang out with his own friends,” I say, knowing it’s a pitiful excuse. We should both be getting to know each other’s friends.
“Hunter likes to be in control,” she states. “If it’s not his way, then it’s no way at all. You know that.”
“I’m gonna try to talk to him about that. It’s definitely a problem.”
Hunter has had get-togethers at his place, but he only invites his friends and doesn’t let me invite mine. He says that while he likes my friends, he doesn’t think mine and his friends would mesh well. I don’t even have many friends. Besides Midge, my only friends are Jon and Daniel. I questioned whether he was a homophobe and he said he wasn’t, but I’m not sure. However, he’s never really warmed up to Midge either.
“Maybe I’ll have a party at my place this weekend. You, Jon, and Daniel can come over, and maybe even Noah,” I say with a grin.
“No.”
“Whatever. You need to invite someone though, otherwise you’ll be the only one there not in a relationship. Plus, you’ll need a game partner, because you know I’m busting out all the games.”
“And you think Hunter will actually show up?”
“I’ll make him. I know he’s made up excuses twice before, but he’ll be there this time.”
She shrugs and takes a drink. “All right. We’ll see if Hunter can win me over.”
I playfully smack her arm. “Be nice.”
Hopefully this plan of mine doesn’t backfire in my face. I want Hunter and Midge to get along. So far, they’ve been civil to each other, but it’s uncomfortable, even for me. Jon and Daniel have only talked to him a couple of times, but I’m hoping if I can get them all to like each other, it will change things. We can all start hanging out together, and perhaps I won’t resent him for not trying.
At about eight-thirty, Jon and Daniel join Midge and London at the bar.
“Hey, guys. What can I get ya?”
Jon tugs on Daniel’s sleeve. “What was that one drink I had at that restaurant?” It’s a question that only a significant other could answer.
“I think it was a spiked blackberry lemonade.”
Jon meets my gaze. “Can you make that?”
I do my best to look affronted. “I can make anything.” I point to Daniel. “And for you?”
“Just a plain ol’ bourbon.”
As I make the drinks, I overhear London inviting Jon and Daniel to her place this weekend.
“I’m thinking we can have a game night. I’ll have drinks and food. Can you guys come?”
“Oh my God, I love game nights!” Jon exclaims.
Daniel chuckles. “I guess we’ll be there.”
“Yay!” London squeaks.
I put Daniel’s bourbon in front of him and move on to make Jon’s. I won’t pretend it doesn’t suck to hear her inviting her friends over for what’s essentially a couples’ game night. Knowing Hunter will be there with her stings just a bit, but I guess I can’t expect anything else. I’ve been well aware that she’s in a relationship. I can definitely feel where Cill’s coming from, but still, I’m willing to wait it out.
When we talk, there’s something there. I can feel it. I know she knows it’s there, too. Small as it may be, there’s a spark, and one day it’s going to ignite.
“Here you go,” I say, interrupting the conversation.
Jon takes a sip before letting out a small moan. “Oh, you’re good,” he says, pointing a finger at me.
I shrug. “What can I say? I’m pretty skilled.”
With a glance at the ladies’ drinks, I see that they don’t need any refills, so I give a slight nod and busy myself somewhere else for a while.
After I finish passing a couple beers to Craig and Jim, who are once again arguing about sports teams, I find Cillian sitting in a stool to my left.
“H
ey, man.”
“Beer me, barkeep,” he says, pounding the bar.
I shake my head and grab a pint glass to fill up. “You done for today?” I ask.
“Yeah, early night for me. I just finished putting Tweety Bird on a chick’s shoulder. Easy work.”
“Did you get any painting done last night?”
“Not really. Zoe wanted to spend the night.”
“Hey, Cill!” Midge yells from five seats over.
“’Sup, Midge? How are ya? London,” he says with a lift of his head and throwing up two fingers.
“I’m here and I’m drinking, so I’m good,” Midge replies, holding up her drink.
“I feel ya,” he replies, taking his glass and holding it up.
“So, London’s here,” he states in a quiet voice.
“Yep. Lock clockwork. Every Wednesday and Saturday with Midge.”
“You steal her away from her boyfriend yet?” he asks with a smirk, bringing the glass to his mouth.
“Funny.”
The two guys who were sitting between Cill and London and her group leave, so now we can hear their conversation a little more clearly, and based on what I can hear, I know Cill’s gonna have something to say.
“Hunter just texted me,” London states, looking at her phone.
“You tell him about game night yet?” Jon asks.
“I will later. He’s coming to pick me up. He wants to take me out.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Midge drawls sarcastically, and I love that she doesn’t seem to like him. “Is he going to take you to his favorite restaurant or to see his favorite movie? Or maybe to hang out with his friends?”
“Midge,” London scolds.
“Fine, I’m sorry. I hope you have a good night. Text me later.”
She gives them all a kiss on the cheek and then glances up and spots me watching her. Great. I try to play it off by looking past her, like I’m checking on other customers.
“Royce,” she calls out.
I make eye contact with her again. “Yeah?”
She slides some money onto the bar. “Don’t forget you still have to tell me the rest of your story.”
“Next time,” I say with a tight smile.
On the Rocks (Kingston Brothers Book 1) Page 7
