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"You know the party is out there, right?"
"Yeah, and…" I question, clearly confused.
"Because you're an attractive man at a bachelor's party, with hot dancers on the floor as we speak. But you, however, are acting more like a babysitter rather than a best man."
Ouch. She doesn’t hold back, and that is hot as hell.
"That may be true, but my liver and kidneys will appreciate my efforts tomorrow while the rest of these assholes are dying in the sweltering heat. I'm not stupid. I left hangovers behind in my college days.”
"That's rather noble of you," she comments, handing me my phone. "I'm sure your wife appreciates the effort too."
Double ouch.
"Not married, honey."
"Okaaayyy…” she draws out, her face twisted in concentration, lifting her finger to her lip as she tries to figure me out. “Girlfriend, then?"
"Nope. Completely single." I smirk before taking a drink of water.
She leans her elbows on the counter and props her chin, studying me. "Okay, then. What's her name?"
And the third time's a damn charm. I school my features and ask, "Who?" nonchalantly.
She's quick with her reply. "The woman who has you on your knees with your heart on your sleeve."
I look down then back up, and reply, "I'm currently on my ass, but I can be on my knees if the moment calls for it." I wink and pull back another swig of water in a pathetic attempt to calm my racing heart. Why the hell did I just say that to her? Out of habit, I flip the screen of my phone on and look down at the screensaver, Laney's face smiling back at me. And there’s that familiar ache I momentarily lost.
When did I start to lose her?
"And what would she have to say about it, babysitter?”
Shrugging I just let it fly because hell, why not.
"I couldn't tell you because she stopped answering my messages and calls weeks ago, the same day she left."
“What did you do to warrant her silence?” she asks.
Now if that ain’t the million dollar question. With Laney, the wind could blow in her direction and mess up her hair, and I’d be under fire. I love her more than my next breath, but maybe we aren’t meant to be. I’ve always imagined she’s the one I’d spend the rest of my life with, a house full of rowdy kids making her even crazier. I thought that’s what we both wanted. Until one day a month ago when she left without a word, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls or text messages since.
“What makes you think I’m to blame?”
“She left for a reason, right?”
“You'd have to know Laney for anything she did to make sense. She marches to the beat of her own drum, does things her way.”
She claps her hands together in celebration of her progress. "And yet, he finally opens up."
"Well, you're nothing if not persistent."
"Eh, I’m an Appalachian woman; we’re born strong and stubborn, but however you Southern gentlemen call it will suit me just fine. Y'all are known for proper etiquette and all." And just like that I see an opening to change the topic.
"Appalachia, huh. So you're a ways from home. What brought you to Hilton Head?"
She spreads her arms out wide as if her next statement should be on showcase. "Chasin' the American dream."
I look around the classy gentleman’s club and ask, “And this is just a stepping stone along your pursuit?”
She shrugs and offers a small roll of the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Maybe. I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.”
