Page 59 of The Scars Within
Rhodes cupped his hand around his mouth and called out, “And my usual, please.”
Walter waved a hand in acknowledgment without turning around, muttering, “Yeah, yeah.”
Rhodes rolled his eyes and looked at me with a smirk. “I think you’ve already replaced me as his favorite.”
I lifted my hand to my chin delicately and said, “I might have to agree with you on that.” I batted my eyelashes playfully, causing Rhodes to blush. The heat rose instantly to his cheeks, and he quickly turned away, trying to hide his embarrassment.
We sat in silence for a few moments until I noticed that some groups, likely families, began to leave the tavern for the night. As the crowd thinned, the tempo of the music picked up. Several musicians had taken to the dais, their lively instruments creating a vibrant, upbeat rhythm that filled the space. I began to sway to the music and then caught Rhodes watching me with curious eyes.
Walter approached us again, carrying two drinks. He set a frozen mug of lager down in front of Rhodes and handed me a light yellow drinkin a distinctive glass. The glass had a V-shaped bowl and a slender, zigzagged stem that resembled the letter ‘Z.’ Holding it made me feel remarkably sophisticated, far beyond what I knew my personality to be.
Walter looked at me with a proud smile, his hand on his heart. “I hope you enjoy your lemon drop martini,” he said, slightly bowing. I glanced at Rhodes, who raised an eyebrow as he sipped his lager. Walter winked at him before moving on to serve other customers down the bar.
As I lifted my glass to my lips, I remarked, “He’s something else, huh?”
Rhodes took a long gulp and replied, “Oh, you have no idea.” I caught the subtle curve of a smile on his lips. I sipped my drink and was instantly wowed. It was smooth and sweet, with a tangy kick like lemonade. The alcohol was just noticeable enough to add depth without overpowering the flavor. This was delightful.
Rhodes and I lingered at the bar, watching as groups of friends came and went from the tavern. Some made their way to the bar, while others headed to the dance floor. I found myself swaying to the beat of the music again when Walter passed by and asked if I wanted another drink. “Why not?” I chuckled softly. “I’m not steering the reins home tonight.”
Rhodes laughed at that, and I playfully backhanded him in the ribs in response. This evening has gone much more smoothly than I anticipated. Everything tonight has felt surprisingly natural. From trusting Rhodes to help me mount Dahlia and letting him whisk me away to an unfamiliar village to visiting a tavern full of strangers and sipping a drink made by someone I’ve known for maybe an hour—it all seemed to fall into place effortlessly.
When I was with Shayde, I was a bundle of nerves. My body’s response to these two experiences has been the complete opposite of what I expected. I expected to be afraid of being lost, not of being found.
Shaking the worry from my mind, I hopped off the barstool, startling Rhodes. I extended my hand toward him and asked, “Wanna dance?”
He looked at me as if I’d just asked him to jump off a bridge.
Okay, maybe everything felt natural up until this moment. My heart pounded with the fear of rejection, but I could blame the liquid courage for my boldness.
Rhodes leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear as he said over the music, “I don’t dance.”
I turned my face slightly, my nose almost brushing his ear. “Neither do I.”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. We were so close that I became hyper-aware of the scent of liquor lingering on my breath from the lemon drop martini.
Even though I pretended to be okay with Shayde declining my invitation to dance, the rejection stung. While sitting on the sidelines, my heart yearned to venture into that group of cadets and dance without him. But that part of me allowed his rejection to hold me back.
That part of me needs to get lost.
I grabbed the collar of Rhodes’s tunic as I mused, “Don’t tell me that’s where you draw the line.”
Rhodes seemed to lose his breath, his lips parting as his gaze dropped to my mouth. He bit his lower lip and brought his hooded eyes back to mine. I could feel his heart racing in his chest as his eyes darkened.
“I’m starting to believe that I can’t draw a line when it comes to you,” his voice said in a sultry tone I had never heard. Butterflies stirred in my stomach as we stared into each other. Our breaths mingling.
My hand on his collar slid down his chest as he straightened, towering over me. There was something so intoxicating about seeing him like this.
Like for once, he wasn’t in control.
Without another word, he slid an arm around my lower back, guiding me toward the dance floor. The scent of sensual cashmere sandalwood and vanilla crashed into me. I could feel the subtle tremor in his grasp as if he was as nervous as I was.
We stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching the locals move through the steps of a lively line dance. I mentally counted the beats, feeling the rhythm of the music pulse through me. Without a second thought, I spun around and tugged Rhodes onto the dance floor, his eyes widening like dragon eggs.
“Scarlet! I have no idea how to do this!” he shouted over the music, his voice laced with panic.
“Just watch my feet and listen,” I said with a playful wink, stepping slightly ahead of him. The martini was definitely fueling my boldness. I waited until the dancers returned to the starting position, then jumped in sync with them, hoping Rhodes would observe.
“Right heel – left heel – right heel,” I called out, tapping the heel of my right boot with my left hand in front of me. “Tap up – tap down,” I continued, this time tapping the heel behind me. “Tap up – tap down.” I raised my arm in the air, mimicking a lasso, and spun around twice, clapping my hands before moving into a right grapevine and then a left, glancing over my shoulder to see Rhodes intently watching my every step. I was honestly surprised he hadn’t bolted from the dance floor yet.
