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I slow my steps, not yet ready to share these thoughts with him, but more open to it. Stubborn ass that he is couldn’t just give me the night to realize it on my own; he had to thrust himself in my direction. Like the beginning of our relationship, I feel my wiseass appearing and know it’s only a few seconds before she attacks.
“This weekend,” I say as we arrive at my building.
Cash gives me a puzzled look. “What about this weekend?”
I escape to the darkness behind my lids and breathe before raising my eyes to his, knowing that looking at him will be hard. His eyes always had the ability to undo me. Stealing one more second, I open them but keep my view on the car which has followed us the entire way. Fortunately, Frank has raised the window, so he doesn’t have to witness this awkward interaction.
“We can do dinner this weekend,” I say, finally raising my eyes to his. The whiskey pools of hope puddle and warm right before my eyes. It’s too early to feel actual movement, but I swear my kid kicks me in the stomach. Even this baby has a visceral reaction to Cash.
He sighs as if he’s been holding his breath since he last saw me. In all honesty, I may have been too. Then his lips turn up in a small smile, as if he’s too nervous to let his face curve appropriately for fear that I’ll steal the happiness back as soon as he relaxes. “Name the time and I’m yours,” he says earnestly.
I stifle back a laugh. In this moment he is so much the Whiskey I had met many months ago, the puppy dog willing to please. “I’ll text you,” I say, turning to walk up the steps.
Cash reaches out and grabs my elbow before I can move past him. When I grimace at his touch, his jaw clenches in frustration. In that moment, I see the other Whiskey, the one that possessed my body, controlled my thoughts, and made me ache so deep within my bones that I feared I would need a cast to heal.
Turns out all of those fears had been valid. Cash burned me and healed me in the same moment. He stole my heart and gave me everything in return. Only to crush it below his feet when he walked away without a backwards glance.
“I’ll be counting the seconds,” he says, blowing out a breath against my ear. I stand stuck, unable to move from his touch. His warm breath against my ear is like a drug. It entices me and sends prickles down my spine, making me want to forget the last three months. But the baby inside of me won’t let me do that. I can’t give in to passion; Ihaveto do this right. So, I close my eyes, inhale one last shot of my favorite drink, and walk away.
