Page 24 of Chasing Home
“Ah! Are those friendship bracelets?” Poppy squeals.
Both Darren and I turn to see her and the rest of the group making a beeline for the table. Anna’s got Poppy’s hand in hers, and the two of them move the fastest toward us.
They stop at the side of the table and bend over the edge as Poppy grabs her brother’s wrist and pulls it closer to her.
“Stop it right now, D. Did Abbie make you these?” she asks, tears in her eyes.
Garrison’s behind her the moment he hears them in her voice, a stone guardian at her back. I look at him and smile, hoping it’ll help him realize there’s no need for the protectiveness right now.
“She did. Isn’t she incredible?” Darren asks.
Anna presses her fingers to her heart and sighs dreamily. “I think my ovaries have just exploded.”
“Alright, stop fawning over Darren. He’ll never let it go,” Brody grumbles, sidling up behind Anna and wrapping an arm around her stomach.
The girls ignore their men and continue to fiddle with Darren’s bracelets. I’m rolling my lips, struggling to keep my laugh inside, when I see her. Suddenly, laughing isn’t a concern for me. Breathing is.
I wasn’t expecting her to come tonight. But I was hoping she would. It’s been a long time since she was here last, and I’m already desperate to dance with her again. On the dance floor or in the aisle between tables again, it doesn’t matter. I’d even settle for a single song out back behind the bar.
I’m quick to slide out of my seat and offer it to her while the others are still too focused on Darren to notice her arrival. Her steps slow as we get closer together, and I drag my eyes down her body a single time.
I’ve never enjoyed the sight of plain blue jeans and a loose-fitted band tee as much as I do right now. Not to mention the slick-backed ponytail that I know is swishing along her spine as she moves toward me.
I grip the back of the booth and keep my body language loose and open, not wanting to spook her. It’s like approaching a wild horse for the first time. Slow, steady, calm. No sudden movements or so much as a hint of abrasiveness in your tone.
“You better take a seat before they steal them all,” I suggest.
Her eyes are wary as she looks at the empty booth and then to the crowd of people hanging over the edge of the table. I hold my breath as I wait for her answer, prepared to pull a chair over from one of the tables near us in case she says she doesn’t want me to join her. But there isn’t any of that.
She slides into the booth and then scoots all the way inside before looking at me again, waiting with a firm, curved brow. I laugh in slight disbelief before sitting beside her, making sure to keep my arm from brushing hers as I cross my hands on the table.
“They’ll be finished drooling over Darren in a minute,” I tell her.
“They don’t have to be.”
“Nah, they will be. It’s rude to ignore someone.”
“They’re not ignoring me. I snuck in behind them because I didn’t want it to be a big deal that I’m here.”
I cock my head in her direction, holding her stare as I try and dig into those deep pools of blue, desperate to learn more about her. “It’s a big deal to me that you’re here.”
She rolls her eyes, brushing me off. “What’s your play?”
“My play?”
“Yeah. The reason for the flirting and interest. Is it a bet or something?”
“I’m not a teenager, darlin’. I don’t make bets where women are involved.”
“How old are you?”
I wrangle back a smirk at her interest. “Twenty-two.”
Her lips part, a quick inhale following closely after. “You’re a baby.”
“How does the saying go? Age isn’t anything but a number?”
“Yeah, and twenty-two is a very low number.”