Page 44 of Never Stop
He offers a simple "Yeah" and a nod their way. It's almost as if he's trying to stay polite yet dismiss them and get them to walk away. Ander isn't phased, as if he's encountered awkward situations like this a million times. He seems annoyed by the attention. He's never been one to enjoy the spotlight being onhim. He's more like me, a hide-in-the-shadows kind of soul. This has got to be weird for him. The longer the women stand there gawking at him, the more uncomfortable he appears. I'm unsure if it's because I'm here or if this is how he feels. If he's anything like he used to be, he hates this no matter what.
These women are bold—very bold, too bold for my liking. In the blink of an eye, the small, mouthy one gets in between his legs and shouts, "Let's take a picture, honey!" All her buddies gather around Ander like he's a trophy. She doesn't even ask for a picture; she commands it. Is this how things are done now? I can't stop my eyes from rolling.
One of the quieter ladies, if that's what we are calling them, leans into Ander and says, "Don't you want at least one of our numbers? It's okay to ask us." Ander's discomfort is evident. His eyes dart to me and search mine. He glances back at the women in. . .annoyance?
"Thanks, ladies. You all have a good night now," he dismisses this awkward interaction. His eyes are set on me, and he waits for them to walk away. They all begin to hurry off, except for Miss Mouthy Mouse herself.
"You know, since hearing your songs, I can't help but wonder, who the idiotic girl is that you broke your heart? I can fix it for you, you know."
Bold.
I gulp loudly and choke. I literally choke. I can feel my cheeks set fire, and my mouth drops as her words hit me to my core.
Ander, clearly in as much shock and disgust as I am, takes me by surprise when he says, "She's a woman worth fighting for, and my heart is just fine. . . now. You have yourself a good night." He leans forward, looking around her directly at me, and his hand reaches for mine.
She rolls her eyes but finally takes the obvious hints he's dropped and walks away. Thank god.
Dumb bitch.
"V, don't let that get to you," he says as he carefully rubs the tops of my hands. He tries reassuring me, but I pull them back and cover my face. I set my head down. I've held it in during that entire interaction and can't keep it in for a second longer.
"V!"
The cackle that comes out of me next shakes through my body. Ander gently pulls back at my shoulder, lifting me off the bar top. When he gets a good look at my face, his worried expression fades, and a slight smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.
"You're fucking laughing?" His voice is light and airy, but damn, that raspy tone to it, just like the woman said, it can indeed make a woman wet instantly, and itdoes.
"You had me worried, woman. Those girls were so damn rude and disrespectful."
My laugh only gets louder. As it does, his smile widens. God. That fucking smile. The way his brows arch together in confusion, but he's too into seeing me smile like this even to ask.
"Aw, you were worried about little ole me, Mr. TikTok?" I snort out.
I open my mouth and point a finger down my throat, making audible gagging sounds. "Oh, Bear Anthony! Here, take my panties as a trophy,"I tease, mocking the group of women who just melted at his feet, and it didn't even phase him one bit.
"Only you, Rosie. Only you would laugh right now." He shoves me playfully as he laughs back just as hard. I shiver at the sound of my old nickname for him escaping his lips. We stay there giggling like grade school kids longer than I'd care to admit. It all feels so familiar.It's us. This feels likehome. Lord knows I haven't had that feeling in far too long. I haven't laughed like this in years. Not to mention, I haven't felt this comfortable since I've been with him last.
We order one last round of drinks and another two rounds of water. By the time I notice it, it's after midnight, and he's fairly and unfairly kicked my ass at playing pool one too many times.
"I thought you said you got better at this?" He laughs out.
"No. What I said was I like playing it now, unlike when we were kids. I never claimed to be any good at all." I correct him with a chuckle.
"So, what you're saying is that you like playing even though you suck?" The words come out of his mouth, and I know he doesn't mean it in the way I'm taking it, but my smile fades, and my cheeks redden. All the hormones crash in on me at once, and I want to show him that it's possible to be good and suck all at once. Because with him, I could be good at sucking. I don't say anything. I bite down on my lip softly as he stares into my eyes.
I nudge past him softly to break the fallen silence between us. I am leaning over the pool table right in front of him, not touching him, but almost. Damn, at this very moment, with this much alcohol in me, I'm in the right mind to grind up on his tall, sturdy frame. Instead, I keep a safe distance. I look at him over my shoulder and flash a smile as my hair falls over to the other side.
"You know, instead of talking shit, you could always show me."
His slight grin fades as he inhales a short breath, his cheeks redden, and I see the bobbing of his Adam's apple. He closes his eyes for a brief second as he lifts his baseball cap and runs his hands through his dark, shaggy hair before replacing the cap and putting it on backward again.Holy shit.The man is fucking sexy without even trying. He takes a step closer and leans in as he whispers into my ear, pointing up towards him with my head still over my shoulder.
"V, I'll show you anything you want me to."
He slides his hands onto my hips. His touch is gentle on me as he positions my hips for me, and I move along with his hands. I look ahead at the table and let out a breath. One hand stays onmy hip, and the other moves to my elbow, positioning that as well.
I slowly turn my head back to see him. His face is closer this time as he's leaning in over me, but the only contact our bodies are making is where his hands are on me. He explains some gibberish about stance and instructs me on how to get the perfect shot, but I don't hear shit. I'm lost in the rasp of his voice and the sting of his touch that ran through my veins, and I don't want it to end. Once he's done speaking, I nod as if I actually have a clue as to what the fuck he just explained. He removes his hands and leans his tall frame, crouched over the pool table, standing barely inches from me. Before I take my shot, I look up to see his eyes.
"Like this? How does this look?"
