Page 4 of One Last Thing Before You Go

I laugh softly. “Yup. And what do you do?”

She takes another sip in an attempt to hide a grimace, but I catch it. “I’m going to be honest with you, Knox. I’m not exactly in the best place, professionally speaking. Or personally. Or… Screw it, I’ll be the first to say it: I’m a goddamn mess right now. So I don’t want tonight to be about that. For the first time in a while I’m having fun, and there’s no way I’m going to let my mess of a life get in the way. So, does it matter? What I do, I mean?”

I sit up straighter in my seat, surprised by her honesty.

“Wow. I… appreciate your honesty. So many people nowadays whitewash their lives, showing people only what’s on the surface.” And here’s this woman—this smart, funny, beautiful woman—a stranger I only just met in a bar admitting that her life isn’t perfect, but she doesn’t want tonight to feel like it. She doesn’t want it to darken this. She’s not telling me why it isn’t perfect, but at least she isn’t lying about it, she isn’t giving me some bullshit highlight reel.

“It’s refreshing to see someone be vulnerable and real,” I tell her. And maybe that’s the allure of being with a stranger. Of being able to act and speak without a filter, without fear of being judged. Because you’re never going to see each other again, so why the hell not?

And it’s what I need tonight, too. I need to be with someone I like but don’t know. I need to not think about it all. I need to be able to connect without feeling tied down.

“Thanks, I guess?” She huffs once. “I will volunteer one thing about work though: I get unlimited access to Post-Its, so there’s that.”

I smile broadly. “Oh, yeah? You got a thing for Post-its, Pretty Girl?”

“Definitely. I don’t know what I would do without them.” Lottie laughs in spite of herself, and I wanna kiss her. “They’re the way to my heart.”

“Good to know. Gotta keep that in mind for the future.” I tap the side of my head with my index finger and smirk, watching her blush.

As we laugh, I unconsciously move my hand that was resting on the bar closer to hers, fingertips less than an inch apart. Our eyes meet briefly, filled with a sudden need, one that I’ve felt building since I first saw her. My lower stomach tightens and I decide to go for it; to move my hand and cover hers with it, our fingers interlacing. It’s a ballsy move, I know. I mean, I’ve known this woman for less than a night, but something about it feels right.

“Work is dumb,” she says, her voice shaky. “Let’s pretend we’re both unemployed, yeah? Sound good?”

I smile broadly at her and bring her hand to my lips. “I mean, I work freelance, so it’s basically the same thing, isn’t it?”

At that, she laughs even harder than before, her face glowing, the previous lightness returning. My chest tightens and I can’t help but panic slightly. Yes, I might need a stranger just for tonight, but suddenly the thought of never seeing her again doesn’t sound great.

Shit.

With my other hand, I reach out, push her long bangs away from her eyes, and smile tenderly at her. Something inside me shifts, my heart beating like a loud drum in a quick beat.

“Can I—” I hesitate, frowning. “Can I take you out to dinner?”

“I… Right now?” I nod, heart racing as I wait impatiently for her to think it over. “Sure,” she murmurs after some thought.

An unfamiliar feeling radiates through me, something a little like hope. And for the first time in a long time, I feel a little less lonely.

“I used to come here all the time on Sundays with my parents and siblings,” Lottie volunteers as we walk into the family restaurant next door. “It’s a bit run down these days, though.”

I hadn’t noticed. I’ve been too busy staring at her ass, at the way her hips sway side to side in that tight skirt as the hostess walks us to our booth.

When we settle into our seats, a sudden wave of nerves crashes over me. “Hey,” I say, my heart racing.

She smirks at my awkwardness, gingerly placing her napkin in her lap. “Hey.”

Her lips look soft and pink, and her skin is flushed. I hope to god it’s a reaction to what I feel happening between the two of us tonight, and not just the two martinis she had at the bar.

An awkward silence settles between us as we wait for the waitress, and I hate this moment for us. Wracking my brain to get rid of this horrible vacuum before it ruins an otherwise amazing night, I try for a bad joke to break the ice: “There’s something I should tell you before we let the night go on further,” I start, voice deadpan. “I tell a lot of dad jokes.”

She presses her lips together, trying not to smile. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nod seriously. “But I don’t have any kids. I’m a faux Pa.”

She blinks at me for a few seconds. “Wow. I cannot believe you just said that.”

I burst out laughing at my own joke, loving the way she smiles while muttering “You’re such a loser” under her breath.

“So, what’s good here?” I ask, ignoring Lottie’s comment. I flip through the worn menu with plastic covers, trying to act as casual as possible. She’s so quiet, I have to sneak a peek at her. Thankfully, I catch her looking at me with a smile on her face.