Page 71 of 2204 Hunter Lane
“Amen to that.”
???
“You cannot tell me that’s not the grossest thing ever,” I released, showing him a picture of small circles bunched together.
He stared at the picture for a minute too longer than I felt comfortable with as I gasped in disbelief.
“Hunter, look away! It’s literally disgusting.”
“Bambi,” he choked out a laugh, “it’s just holes.”
I placed a hand over my eye as I struggled to delete the photo, clearing my internet search history.
“I have trypophobia.”
He wiped imaginary tears from his waterline as he downed the rest of his whisky. “That ain’t real, sweetheart.”
“I hate you.” I crossed my arms, draining the fourth martini I’d ordered.
“Cause I don’t believe you gottippytopia?”
“Try-po-phobia.”
He shook his head, rounding up both our glasses as he attempted to escape the booth. “Want another?”
But I beat him to it, pushing my legs closer together as I wiggled out into the open area. “I’ll do it. I have to pee. Whisky?”
He nodded as I stepped away and changed course to the bathroom. The music drained out of my ears when the door shut closed, allowing me a moment of silence to breathe and compose myself.
My brown eyes were darker, coated by a lustrous sheen of liquor sparkle and my white top had a few dotted stains from when Hunter accidently spilt his whisky earlier.
The redness in my face looked like I’d braved an Alaskan storm but I didn’t mind it.Who needs blush when I have the wonderful effects of alcohol?
The music returned to its original level as I finished up my business in the bathroom and stood at the bar, waiting for Kenton to take my order.
I’d made friends with him the first night I’d been to Cid’s and he truly was a lovely man. Divorced with two kids, but still worked every single night to provide for them since his wife cheated on him with their plumber.Some freaking people.
Right on cue, Kenton strode towards me, throwing a white towel over his left shoulder. “What can I get ya, Marley? Same as before?”
I opened my mouth to respond when I froze at the sound of a man speaking.
The familiar voice of a man I knew all too well.
The same voice of the man I’d run away from.
Don’t look, Marley. Don’t look. Oh my God, please for the love of fuck do not be him.
My mouth gaped open as I examined the snake-green eyes, the dark scruff and brown curls of the man I’d left my life behind for.
Todd was sitting on the barstool directly across from me, twirling a toothpick in an empty glass as he eyed me with a humoured expression.
“Appletini, right baby?”
I almost hurled. I swear I almost hurled right then and there, on his fucking smug face and white turtleneck and corduroy jacket.
Kenton looked to me but I swallowed in response as he moved away, making the drink that my ex-boyfriend just ordered me.
“How the fuck…” I shook my head, refusing to move out of place. “How are you here right now, Todd?”
