Page 43 of Fly Back to Me
The pads of my digits lick the trim of her panties, her palms planting against my chest as our noses brush. “If this isn’t mine anymore, just say it,” I whisper. “Just tell me, Jenna. I can handle it.”
Just as I lift my head, her hands press into my torso. The nudge is so cruel that I swear I feel my heart crack. “Cade, I haven’t showered,” she hushes. “I told you I’m stressed.”
Same excuse, different day.
I gradually strip my hands from her, holding her apologetic gaze as I step back.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
But I’m already exiting the kitchen before Jenna can finish her sentence.
Chapter 18
Olivia
Lauren’s out with coworkers tonight, so I’m going to the brewery solo. Normally I wouldn’t be owning the night by myself, but I decided this exception was necessary. Besides, I will have pepper spray and walk to my car with someone I trust.
Even if I didn’t feel one hundred percent secure, Cade’s presence fills that gap for me. After finally coming face-to-face with him, a fresh confidence was dug up inside me. A spirit I thought had vanished without a trace that night in the alleyway.
But even so, I clip the bobble chain around my ankle before slipping my leg in my black thigh-high boot.
I’m safe.
The crowd is snowballing when I walk inside the brewery behind a large group of friends. My gaze steers left, immediately gripping onto the view of Cade pouring beer from the tap handle. Warm lighting accentuates the ink peeking from the bunched sleeve of his solid gray flannel, but the best accessory he wears isthat smile.
A shameless grin is plastered on my face as I make my way to the far end of the bar. I slip onto a stool, taking my coat and bag off before crossing my legs. My black miniskirt bites into my thighs, but fortunately the discomfort washes away when Cade’s head swerves in my direction.
He flashes a kind smile as I tangle my forearms over the finished bar top. I sprout a tender grin in response, but as soon as he spots me, he tends to a couple other people the next minute.
I pivot my head to the side, dodging eye contact with his employees. There may be two other bartenders working, but I’m really not interested in their service right now.
My fingers aimlessly fiddle with my curtain bangs, the sound of Cade’s voice drawing nearer like clockwork. “Almost didn’t recognize you with the high ponytail,” he says, slipping a paper coaster in front of me.
My body straightens, eyes welcoming his immaculate face. “Almost didn’t recognize you with the backward snapback.”
“What can I get you?” he asks.
I flip my palms up. “What do you suggest?”
He curls his hands around the edge of the counter. “Since you aren’t much of a beer drinker, I’ve got a seasonal winter ale,” he responds. “There’s hints of cinnamon and spice, so I’m thinking you’d probably like that.”
His cool tone parallels the amusement flashing in his eyes, and my stomach tumbles. “Okay, then.” I drop my hands to my seat, gripping the edges of it. “Let’s do it.”
Cade taps a hand on the bar top in satisfaction, spinning around to grab a can from the fridge at the other end of the bar. When he slides back in front of me, he places a glass down before cracking the beer open and pouring the auburn liquid inside.
My eyes settle a little too long on his tattooed hand clutchingthe can, the stainless-steel ring practically sparkling under the light fixtures. I swallow thickly, hypnotized by the veins wrapping around both his forearms.
The clashing of metal catapults my attention to the drink he’s gliding toward me. He seemingly just chucked the can under the bar, and a gentle smile waits for me to accept his service.
“Ah, give me a second.” I hold a finger out before digging into my belt bag.
“This is on the house, actually.”
I flick my head up, drawing my brows in. “No, it’s definitely not.” When I pluck my credit card from my wallet, I extend it to him. “Here.”
“You bought me coffee the other day. It’s on the house,” he pushes.
“To be fair, I was making up for the coffee I spilled on you. So technically, I just replaced your coffee.”
