I can’t help it.
My lips pull into a grin before I’ve even finished reading.
It feels awkward at first, unfamiliar, like a muscle I don’t use, but it settles in deep, tugging at something I thought was long gone.
Hell, I’m a grown man, scarred, worn down, and here I am, smiling at a phone like some idiot.
I rest my elbows against the sink, my dog tags clinking as they fall against my chest. My thumb hovers, hesitant, before I finally type back.
Reed
When you comin’?
The bubbles pop up almost immediately.
Layla
mmmmmm why, miss me?
My pulse races, eyes locked on the screen as her reply shows up.
Something stirs deep in my chest. I swallow hard, adjusting my phone in my hand.
Fuck, what do I say to that?
Reed
Just wondering, sunshine.
God, Reed, don’t you know how to converse with a woman?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Not even a second passes before her name lights up again. This time, the words scroll across the screen like her voice in my head; bright, a little messy, and totally her.
Layla
Don’t worry, Reed, i’ll be there soon to brighten your day
A genuine, deep laugh escapes me, echoing off the tile walls. It loosens something inside me, something tightly wound for years.
I bow my head, smile at the screen, and gently brush my thumb over her name before locking it.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I lift my hand, brushing my stubble as I catch my reflection in the mirror again; same face, same scars, same tired eyes.
But with her words tucked warm in my pocket, the man staring back at me doesn’t seem quite sobroken.
I push away from the sink with a slow exhale, the dog tags tapping against my chest as if reminding me where I’ve been, and the possibility that, maybe, I’m no longer stuck there.
Turning off the bathroom light, I make my way to the front door, grabbing my keys from the empty bowl on the entry table. The night air greets me, carrying the faint scent of rain on asphalt. My truck door groans as I open it.
The drive into town is quiet as my truck’s engine hums, its headlights slicing through the dark stretch of highway.
My mind should be on the list waiting for me: stock rotation, invoices, and the keg delivery I need to check this evening, but it drifts.
Always back toher.
I pull into the back lot of Boots & Bourbon, where the neon sign flickers to life, buzzing softly in the night.
