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The subtle confidence in his manner, the purposeful movements as he talked to people, the sound of his voice, all made me insane with wanting to be close to him, to put my hands on him. I craved the right to be able to touch him and have it be welcomed. I would have sold my soul to the devil to see him looking at me with something other than big-brother-is-only-here-to-keep-you-from-harm, little girl.
I had been drinking for an hour at least when he pulled up beside me and ordered a beer. The troubles with my boyfriend of the moment, Denny, had put me in a foul mood. He’d called me earlier, begging me to come down to the pub and meet him so he could “make it up to me.” Whatever that meant, since we were so finished. Yeah, finding Denny shagging some blonde tart in the alley behind the pub, had pretty much put the death knell in our relationship, and I knew I’d never trust him again.
I don’t even know what I was thinking by going there to meet him anyway.
Denny was all kinds of trouble and he’d scratched that itch in me to be a rebel, I suppose. He was a young man with a dad who had a bit of brass. Enough to keep him flush with money and a flashy motorbike, and all things superficial that didn’t really matter at all.
Things that made Denny the polar opposite of Neil in terms of character.
He hung with a cycle gang of sorts that dabbled in the illicit and illegal. I’d simply pretended to be unaware, but I was pretty sure Denny was dealing drugs as a side business of his main one—that of being a spoilt prick. If my father were still alive, I wouldn’t have ever hooked up with Denny, or probably with any guy for that matter.
I’d most likely still be a virgin. An innocent. A pang of guilt and sadness washed over me at the thought of my dad. I missed him still…so very much, and knew he would be sorely disappointed in me if he could see where I was, and what I had been doing.
If I was honest, Denny’s betrayal didn’t really hurt me as much as I let on with him. I hoped to have a place in Italy by summer’s end, and if everything worked out, Denny Tompkins would be just another memory from my rebellious past, that could fade away with very little bother to me.
I wanted out of England and to forget about all of the things I couldn’t have, and all of the things I’d done.
Right now I had Neil sitting on the barstool just beside me but nowhere close enough for what I desired. Not fair. I took a huge gulp from my glass.
“Don’t you think you need to slow it down, Cherry?” he asked in his quiet way, managing to sound direct even though he spoke softly.
“Why should I? I’m not bothering anybody.” I gave him a thorough look and inhaled, catching a whiff of his manly scent that did more to hasten my drunkenness than the wine I kept pouring dow
n my throat.
“That’s not true.”
“Why, whatever do you mean, Neil?” I stared and watched him for a reaction, my curiosity piqued.
“It bothers me seeing you unhappy and getting drunk at the bar. It bothers me a lot.” He narrowed his eyes a little and swept those nearly black beauties back and forth in an effort to read me.
“What makes you think I’m unhappy?”
He swept a hand in front of me. “This is supposed to look like happiness?” He gave his head a shake and took a drink off his beer. “I don’t think so, Cherry.”
“I was waiting for Denny to show up and apologize,” I confessed, mimicking his hand gesture toward my own body, “but he’s probably off shagging the same twit from last time behind my back. Who am I kidding? These things happen.” I shrugged at Neil, hoping he was getting my veiled reference to his totally unsuitable girlfriend Cora, loud and clear.
“You need to lose that fool. I don’t like him. Why even let him near you? You’re better than that piece of news, Cherry.”
“Don’t call me that anymore.” I pegged him with a hard look. “Why do you allow your piece of news near you?”
“Cora?” He looked surprised at my question, a slight smile reaching his mouth.
My stomach in knots, I grew reckless with my tongue and let it all out. “I can’t have the one I want, so I guess I settle for sloppy seconds and get pissed in the pub when even that doesn’t work out.” I let my ugly words sink in for a moment and then delivered the sucker punch. “Your turn, Neil.”
He stared at me then. His eyes moving slow and purposeful, like a caress. It was as if he was trying to bring more confessions out of me by force of will. It nearly worked too. His beautiful dark eyes held the power to make it happen when he looked at me like he was right now. Does he know how I feel about him? Has he always known? How could he not know?
Those soulful eyes just about managed to pull the dreaded trifecta of emotion from my lips—just, but not quite. I only thought the words in my head. I love you. I was drunk and he was right here with me acting as if he really cared. I love you. And then, I was left with the unbelievable idea that Neil didn’t know. How could he be that unaware? How could he not know how I felt about him? I love YOU, you idiot man.
I’m guessing he truly didn’t know after all, because he didn’t take my bait.
“Cherry, I know all about what Cora’s been up—”
“—I said, don’t call me that anymore. I hate it now!” I spat angrily, signaling the bartender for a refill. I felt immediately guilty for lashing out at him, but it hurt too much to want him to see me as a woman instead of merely as a little sister who needed protecting.
Neil stood up and waved the bartender off, tossing down some notes to pay. “You’re done here. I’m taking you home.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” I crossed my arms beneath my breasts and stared him down as best I could. I suddenly felt hot and more than a little dizzy.
