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“Fine, but I get to pick the cocktails.”
Yeah, because that is going to end well for me.
It’s only minutes before we reachMulligans, a trendy bar and grill a couple blocks away. And while I’m not a huge fan of their food, I’ve eaten here more times than I’d care to admit. Again, Skyla’s first choice every single time.
Walking inside almost feels like entering the twilight zone. Everything is exactly as I remember it, yet oddly different at the same time. I find that’s true with most things now.
We snag an open round, high top table next to the bar, not bothering to ask for menus. I’m fairly certain Skyla has the whole damn thing memorized.
We order drinks and I try to relax, to reclaim some sense of the carefree twenty-one year old I used to be, but I find that even the most normal things feel unfamiliar to me. I guess being kept prisoner for nearly five weeks will do that to a person.
The waitress brings our drinks over, something called Adios Motherfucker. Because that doesn’t sound like something you want to pour down your throat, right? Only Skyla... I roll my eyes, lifting the straw to my lips.
The alcohol flavor that slides over my tongue is overwhelming and I immediately pucker at the taste. It’s so strong they might as well have given me straight alcohol. The name makes sense now. One of these andAdios Motherfuckeris exactly what I’ll be saying as I stumble out of here.
“It’s good, right?” Skyla smiles at me over the rim of her glass.
“Oh yeah,” I say sarcastically. “Yummy.”
“Oh shut up. You know you like it.” She kicks me under the table. “I need to use the ladies’. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” I nod, going in for another drink even though the damn thing tastes like rubbing alcohol.
She’s gone no more than a few seconds when a funny feeling settles over me. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s like I can sense someone’s eyes on me.
I look around the bar area before turning my head toward the booth seating to my right. I don’t see anyone that looks suspicious, and no one is looking at me as far as I can tell. But I can’t shake the feeling growing stronger in my gut by the second.
“I thought you didn’t like to drink.” His voice washes over me from behind like smooth velvet sliding across my skin, his scent hitting me next.
Everything goes fuzzy.
I glance behind me as he grabs a nearby barstool and slides it up to the table between Skyla’s chair and my own.
The sight of him literally steals the breath from my lungs. No matter how much I want to hate him, no matter how many times I’ve told myself that I do, one look at him and I know that I’ve been lying to myself.
Heat builds in my cheeks and slowly works its way down my neck as I drink him in. His hair is styled back away from his face, not a single strand out of place. His beard has grown out a little, but not much. Dressed in his usual suit pants and jacket, he’s every bit as gorgeous as I remembered. Maybe even more so, and I hate myself for even thinking it.
“What...what are you doing here?” It takes way too much effort to force the words out of my mouth.
“I thought that much was obvious. I’m here for you.”
“Here for me?” I don’t try to hide my confusion. I am confused. Hell, I’m a lot more than confused at the current moment. “How...” I look around the restaurant. “How did you know I was here?” He gives me a knowing look. “You followed me?”
“Maybe.” The cocky smile that slides across his face is enough to make me want to rear back and slap him but also crawl into his lap and kiss him all at the same time. The conflicting emotions play tug of war inside my chest.
He picks up my drink and takes a long pull straight from the glass.
“That’s disgusting.” He curls his nose, waving a finger at the waitress who immediately heads in our direction. “Can I get a whiskey neat, please?”
“Sure thing.” She lets her eyes linger just long enough that you know it’s intentional. Not that I can blame her. He really is a sight to behold. Unfortunately, that’s where his good qualities end.
Okay, so that’s not entirely true, but I refuse to think about hisothergood qualities right now.
As soon as she’s gone, I turn my attention back to him.
“I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
“I thought I told you I’m not the type of man that accepts defeat.”
