Page 34 of Habits

This time it’s in excitement.

* * *

Now

Shaking my head, I shove the memory back into the box where it belongs—one that’s closed for good and if I never open it again, it’ll be too soon.

Pulling my sweater over my chilled fingers, I see the bar is relatively empty, with most of the people scattered around the room. Some are sitting on the couches in the dark corner, others dancing on the make-shift dance floor.

Pushing through the people, I make my way to the bar.

The guy behind it is about to give drinks to a couple of girls giggling on the other side. He winks at them playfully before he turns his attention to me.

He’s cute, I have to admit. Well over six feet, but kind of on the skinny side. His brown hair is shaggy and all messed up, but in a cute way. His big brown eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks at me, his lips curled in a big smile.

Slowly, he comes closer, leaning over the bar so he’s in front of me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s pulling one of the classic guy tricks. It-is-so-loud-in-here-I-have-to-push-my-head-into-your-cleavage-to-hear-you-better bullshit, but he doesn’t do it in the sleazy way most guys do. No, he has a young, almost innocent air about him. Kind of reminds me of a younger, male version of Amelia.

“What can I get you, beautiful?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be like that?” I laugh, shaking my head at his innocent grin.

“Don’t know what’cha talking about.” He scratches the nape of his neck.

“Pleaseee,” I drawl, rolling my eyes playfully. When was the last time I did that? “Throwing compliments and nibbling at that lip playfully. How many hearts have you broken tonight?”

A husky laugh parts my lips, startling me completely.

How long has it been since I’ve laughed with a guy? Flirted? It feels foreign, but I’m quite sure that’s exactly what I’m doing. Flirting. With a guy who’s most likely younger than me.

“I’d never do that.” He wiggles his finger in front of my nose. “I’m one of the good guys.”

I lean forward, pursing my lips. “Mhmm …”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to make of me, which makes me smile. “So …” I wave my hand in the air, waiting for him to fill me in on his name.

“Liam.”

“Liam.” I smile. “Do you know how to mix fancy drinks or you do you simply pour whatever gets in your hand first?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” He winks at me.

Taking a step back, he keeps holding my stare for a heartbeat longer.

“Jeanette,” I say. “My name’s Jeanette.”

“Jeanette,” he murmurs, trying my name on his tongue. “Got it.”

Liam turns around, fishing a cocktail mixer out from somewhere and starts preparing my drink. I watch him as he works, a little surprised to find out he actually knows his shit around the bar. After expertly mixing a drink, he pours it in a Solo cup and hands it over to me.

“I’d put it in a fancy glass, but I think we’re safer if we stick to these.” He tilts his chin in the direction of the cup that’s nestled between us, his hand still wrapped around the plastic.

When he doesn’t remove it, I lift my brow in question. “Mind if I take that, or did you make it for yourself?”

Liam grins, his slightly crooked tooth flashing in the dim light of the room. That little imperfection making him look even cuter. Like someone’s sweet little brother or that little Beast of Amelia’s. Max’s name for her dog, not mine.

“Come and get it,” he taunts.

My smile widens as I lean forward, my still cool fingers brushing against his warm ones as they wrap around the cup.

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