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five
greyson
The chatter around me is muffled as I’m lost in thought, mentally scolding myself for pulling that stunt on Scarlett. Why, oh why, did I stick her finger in my mouth and suck on it? Because I’m an impulsive dick or just thinking with my dick. Fucking hell, she’s going to think I’m—
“That’s her, isn’t it?” Rowan interrupts me, chucking myshoulder.
Her earthy hues remind me of Savy and the constant mirth and mischief lurking behind them.The buzz of the evening has dwindled down, the regular customers happy for their spaceback.Still annoyed with myself, I snag two biscuit-like cookies from the open tin on the counter, hand the exhausted-looking cashier some money, and offer one toRowan.
“How’d you guess?” My eyes never leave Scarlett as I catch her across the room talking it up with Mr. PrematureBalding.Her deep blue dress hugs her curves in all the right places and cuts off just above herknees.She’s a man’s wet dream in the flesh, her blonde hair glossy and rose petal lips always in apout.After having Theo, she complained about her soft stomach and stretchmarks.They’re the parts of her I want tocherish.She brought forth the one other person I’d do anything for. Including letting him make decisions about his own life and yes, if he wants to dye his hair any color of the rainbow, I’ll let him, as taking away his mother’s choice still haunts me.
Rowan brushes her hands together after eating the dessert, shifting her ballet-slippered feet across the wood plankflooring.“You just confirmed it and haven’t taken your eyes offher.She has feelings for you,too.”
I whip my head up at her and squint my eyes, my heart pinging rapidly in mychest.“No, she doesn’t. We’re justfriends.Best friends. She’s just as protective of me as I am ofher.We’ve been through a lottogether.”
Rolling her lips in and out of her mouth, she shakes herhead.“Whatever you say, hotshot. Odds are on you two getting together andsoon.She wanted to cut me when I dragged youaway.”
I scoff. “To be fair, you don’t know me or her, so I’m less inclined to believe you and your crazy ideas.”
As if called by some magic spell, I glance over my shoulder and there she is, her beautiful blue eyes bolted tomine.Can she see it all over my face—how I reallyfeel?
Rowan flicks my nose, bringing my attention back toher.“They’re not ideas, myfriend.It’s reality.”
Before I grill her for more insight, I decide for my sake; I need a new topic. This one is stressing me out.I steer her to an empty table, sweep off the leftover crumbs and take aseat.Nodding to a passing customer, I focus onher.
“Enough aboutme, please.Did you find your spark tonight?”
She thunks her big bag on the floor, sighing when she facesme.“No. But there’s another night of this tomorrow. Are you coming?”
The cookie turns bitter in my mouth, and I sputter, “Hell fucking no.”
She winks, swinging her curls over hershoulder.“Well, if you change your mind, I heard the lady with the blue hair is showing upagain.I guess she couldn’t find anyone to taste herpie.”
I shudder. “I’d rather not have that visual in my head, thank you verymuch.”
She laughs again and if there was one positive out of this experience; it was meeting someone cool at this disastrousfunction.
“It was nice sharing six minutes with you,Greyson.Want to meet up with me again sometime?” She senses my hesitancy and speaksagain.“As friends, I promise. I’d like to talk more about yourcompany.The magazine I work for likes to feature businesses and I’m sure I could get SoS intoit.”
“More exposure means morebusiness.Sounds good, I’d like that.”
After exchanging numbers and giving her a hug, wishing her luck for tomorrow, I turn to scout for Scarlett, thinking I could walk her to her car and apologize again for accosting her finger, but she’s already gone.Trying to scrub what Rowan said from my head, I trudge back to my truck, thankful this entire ordeal is over, even if it confirms what I alreadyknow.I’m in so deep, it’s only a matter of time before I drown.
* * *
At home it’s quiet,the old cuckoo clock which used to hang in my father’s home office, ticks near my head. The steady metronome beat calms my twitchy legs as I pull out my notebook and turn to a clean page. Theo ended up staying over at Savy and Preston’s, so it’s just me and my chaotic thoughts from this evening’s event.
I chew on the end of my pen and squirm on top of the stool, scouring my brain for anything to feel grateful for. Rehab all those years ago gave me the tools to remain sober and I’ve followed them to the letter. Daily runs, healthy habits—aside from my sugar consumption, daily entries in my gratitude journal—anything to stem the urge to drink after a triggering event. Over time, those events have loosened their grip on me, but I remain faithful to my routine. It’s the only anchor I have. Especially now as the pressing feelings for Scarlett grow tangible, just out of reach, a vibrating string in my belly snapping at my sanity. Giving in will happen, despite the complications it’ll cause. I’m not that strong when it comes to her.
1. I’m grateful to never utter the words speed-dating ever again. No need to expand on this. The words alone say enough.
2. I’m grateful Scarlett knows how to wear a dress, but damn… my eyeballs will never be the same after seeing her walk away, exposing more leg than should be allowed on a woman like her. (I’m not grateful for the roaming eyes of the dudes there. Nope, that’s a negative Ghost Rider.)
3. I’m 90% sure she didn’t go home with whats-his-face. Van Wilder? No, that’s Ryan Reynolds. Even I’d go home with him. Randall, Randy, Bundy? Hell, who cares? I pray she left alone and I don’t care if that makes me a selfish bastard.
4. I’m grateful she willNEVERsee this journal.
5. I’m grateful for “Palmala” because my cock doesn’t understand the “ain’t never gonna happen” memo.
