Page 55 of The Late Hit
Hitting send, I watch her, waiting for her to pick up her phone. Setting her glass down, she reaches over and pulls her phone up. Her body tenses, and I watch as she squeezes her legs together. Before I can think about it, I’m thumbing out another message.
The message immediately goes to read. Her body turns, eyes searching the bar. She looks past the entrance to the room, before bouncing those bright ocean-blue eyes that I just want to swim in, back my way. A wide grin breaks across her face before she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. Reaching back toward the bar, she grabs her glass, hopping down between the stool and Will. I see him appreciate the proximity of her body. My hand grips my glass tight enough that I think I could break it. But I don’t. Instead, I watch my girl walk her fine ass over my way.
“Brynn!” JP yells as she enters the room.
“What’s up, boys,” she greets back, looking at all of us.
She’s standing on the opposite side of the table from me, next to Grant.
I’m itching to touch her, but I can’t when she won’t come any closer.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
I can’t seem to break eye contact with her. It feels surreal to have experienced what we did on Saturday and not know where we stand today.
She thumbs her finger over her shoulder before replying.
“I was trying to watch the game with some wings and beer, but someone won’t quit blowing up my phone.” Her tone is light, joking.
She doesn’t care. In fact, if that blush on her cheek is any indication, she appreciated that text a lot more than she’s letting on.
Will comes back into the room, two fresh beers in his hand. Handing one off to Brynn, she turns to him and thanks him.
“Want to join us?” he asks her, gesturing to the empty seat next to him.
I don’t say anything. I’m waiting to see how she handles this situation. For the longest time, I thought Will was going to be the one to break her series of hook-ups. The two of them have had multiple nights together. He might be a douche, but he’s always made Brynn laugh and have fun.
She keeps her eyes on him.
“No thanks, I’m good over at the bar. I was just finishing up. I need to head home and work on a paper.” She turns her attention back to the other guys in the room. “You guys have fun, though!”
With a smile and a wave, she turns to walk out of the room.
Wait, that was it?
She seriously just came in here, said hi, and left. What the fuck?
Our chipper waitress brings our orders. She can’t take a hint that I’m not interested because she keeps dipping her chest toward me, trying to get me to react. I don’t. My attention is solely focused on the girl who is standing at the bar, grabbing her purse, and nibbling on her bottom lip.
Laying her hand on my shoulder, the waitress whispers in my ear, “I get off at ten. Stick around, and I’ll get you off too.”
That’s the moment that Brynn chooses to look over her shoulder. Her back stands taller, tensing at what she sees. Turning back toward the bar, she takes a long gulp of her beer before rushing out the door.
“I’m good, thanks,” I grumble to the waitress, shrugging her hand off my shoulder. “I have a…a girl—argh—a someone.”
I hate that I can’t define what Brynn and I are.
Our relationship is friends, but also, possibly more than friends. Or was what happened in Chicago a distraction?
Leaning down against me, the waitress whispers, “It’s okay. We’ve all got someone. Your secret is safe with me.”
And with that, she walks away.
“Fuck man, that was awkward as hell,” JP says, placing a wing in his mouth and sucking all the meat off in one bite.
“Which part?” Riggsby adds.
Shaking my head, I ignore both of them.
