Page 51 of That One Night
“Shut up.” Mariah shook her head. “You know that was when I was younger. I’m over him.”
“Did you hear he took Emery to get a tattoo?” Sabrina asked, a sly smile pulling at her lips.
All eyes fell on her. Mariah frowned momentarily, replacing it with a smile like she was trying to show she didn’t care.
Emery felt bad. “It’s not like that,” she told her. “He knew it was on a list my friend gave me. So he introduced me to his friend who’s a tattoo artist.”
“What list?” Sabrina asked her.
“It’s a long story.” Emery was having to speak loudly to be heard. “But my friend from work knew I was coming home thissummer and wanted me to get out of my comfort zone. So she made me a kind of to-do list.”
“What else is on it?”
Oh no, what was she getting herself into? Those cocktails had a lot to answer for. “Skinny dipping. Which I already did.” And no, she wasn’t going to tell them about her meeting Hendrix almost naked. “And the tattoo, of course. Get drunk.” She looked at the cocktails. “Which really doesn’t seem to be a problem.”
“What else?” Sabrina asked.
She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember one that wouldn’t cause problems. Like admitting she enjoyed riding on a motorcycle with Hendrix way too much. “Dance on a bar counter.”
As soon as she said it, regret washed over her. Because of course Sabrina’s eyes lit up like Christmas had come early.
“Oh my God,” Sabrina said. “That’s amazing. We can do that tonight!”
“Seriously, it’s meant to be,” Mariah added.
Emery looked at the bar. It was covered with drinks. People were leaning on it. “I don’t think she meant somewhere like this.”
“Then where?” Mariah asked, because there was no other bar in Hartson’s Creek.
“Coyote Ugly,” Sabrina said, and they laughed. But she was clearly thinking things over, because her eyes were narrow.
“It’s fine. I’ll do it another time.” Or not do it at all. Because the idea of dancing on a bar, being watched by everybody, made her want to break out in hives. It was one thing to go skinny dipping with nobody watching. Or getting a tattoo from a guy who did it day in and day out.
But to be the center of attention here? Dear god, no thank you.
“I’m gonna ask Ryan,” Sabrina said, standing.
“No.” Emery shook her head quickly. “Don’t do that.”
“If you don’t do it here, where are you going to do it? Come on, I’ll do it with you. So will the others.”
Mariah shrugged. Lilah grinned.
And Emery thought she might be sick any minute now.
“Third time champion.” Marley grinned, holding his pool cue aloft like he was celebrating a major win. “You guys might as well go home. I’m on a streak tonight.”
“Don’t confuse luck with skill,” Pres retorted, shaking his head, because this game had come down to the last ball. Which was more than could be said for when Hendrix played Marley in the last round. He’d barely potted a thing. Been too busy thinking about what was going on in the main bar.
Too busy popping his head around the door to check thatshewas okay.
And she was. She hadn’t seen him checking on her, but Emery looked like she was enjoying herself. She was laughing with his cousin, talking to Sabrina’s friends. And thankfully, all the women at the table were making it clear to any assholes who approached them that tonight was strictly a ladies’ night. No ardent suitors invited.
“Sure, let’s call it luck,” Marley said, the smile still pulling at his lips. “The more I play, the luckier I get.”
“Maybe if you’d been lifting roof tiles for eight hours today you’d be singing another tune.” Pres rolled his shoulders, groaning. He worked as a contractor. Owned his own business. Mostly he coordinated the work, but if a tradesman didn’t show up or got sick, he was the first to take over.
“Sure, old man, blame your muscles if that makes you feel better.”
