Page 11 of Into The Light
God, she's beautiful. Her hair is copper and gold, whereas mine is rust and old blood. The aforementioned brilliant green eyes and milky skin. And her body—fuck. I force myself to hold her eyes instead of ogling her tits.
She's dressed in khaki shorts that cling to her thick, soft, muscular thighs and generous, heart-shaped ass; her shirt is a sapphire V-neck with sleeves so short it's almost a tank top but not quite. The hem doesn’t quite meet the waist of her shorts, occasionally offering a glimpse of her belly. Her cleavage is generous enough to draw my gaze as if by fishhook and line, yet in no way excessive or showy.
"No," I murmur, eventually. "Not good with crowds."
She grabs my hand and pulls me back toward The Cellar. "Well, you can't chicken out now, buddy boy. I've already saved you a seat in the corner. C'mon!"
Maybe it's the way she so fearlessly grabs my giant paw and tugs at me, maybe it's the challenge in her words, but I allow her to pull me to the door. I grab the elaborate twist of wrought iron that is the door handle and open the door for her. She keeps hold of my hand, tugging me into the darkened interior; being late spring, the sun is still setting at seven, sending lances of sunlight through the stained glass windows. The Cellar is packed, and people jostle me and bump into me and bounce off me as Noelle tries to weave a path through the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd by the bar.
I edge in front of her to take the lead, using my sheer bulk and intimidating presence to forge a path; as usual, the crowd parts for me.
Noelle giggles. "Well,that'sa handy trick." She leans against my back, soft breasts pressing into me; she points at a table in the far back corner. "That's us, there."
I angle for the table, mouth dry at the innocent contact, heart hammering.
Don't read anything into it, I tell myself. She's just being nice. It means nothing. How could it?
There are five people at the table, three women and two men. All five sets of eyes widen comically as I approach with Noelle clinging to my arm as if we’re walking the red carpet together.
I remind myself that the only reason she's holding onto me like this is so she doesn’t get sucked away by the crowd. Best not to let silly things like hope and attraction run away with me. Stay focused on reality. Gorgeous girls like her don't go for grumpy beasts like me.
Even when we reach the table, however, she doesn't let go. She glances up at me, her smile bright and eager and intoxicating. "Bear, these are my friends." She points to each person in turn. "Kyle, Ashlynn, Raina, Thomas, and Colin."
Kyle is in her thirties, with long, loose, wavy dark brown hair and light brown eyes, dressed in a tight, revealing little red dress. Ashlynn is around the same age, with artificially silver hair cropped short and styled in an artfully messy mop, hazel eyes, wearing a thin, clingy forest green shorts-jumpsuit thing, her earlobes rimmed with innumerable silver hoops. Raina has thick black hair in a loose braid down her back, dark eyes, and skin that hints at Middle Eastern heritage of some sort, wearing a pale purple sweater and dark wash blue jeans. Thomas and Colin are a gay couple; Thomas is slender and effeminate, with voluminous blond hair in a swept-back pompadour, dressed in abubblegum pink velour tracksuit; Colin is dark-haired and more conservative, clean-cut, and wearing pressed khakis and a white button down. They sit close, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder, Thomas's hand tucked around Colin's arm, much like Noelle's is around mine.
"We've been best friends since elementary school," Noelle says to me, guiding me to a spot on the bench side of the booth, at the very end so I have plenty of space for my bulk and my long legs. "We all went to cosmetology school together."
I sweep the group with my eyes, nodding once. "Nice to meet you guys."
"Lovely to meet you," Thomas says, in an arch, crisp voice, his eyes twinkling as if he has some inside joke he's not sharing. "So, No-No, darling. Where did you meet this stunning specimen of a man?"
I can't tell if he's mocking me or not.
Noelle sits in a chair close to me, her legs perpendicular to mine. "At the animal rescue. I found a stray and brought her in, and Bear here was signing up to volunteer."
"Welcome to the fam, Mr. Bear," Thomas says.
I shoot a look at Noelle, who is spluttering in laughter. "Just Bear."
"I didn't say anything, I swear," she says. “That was all him."
Thomas frowns. "Did I miss something?”
I'm saved from having to explain as a waitress comes by to take our orders. Kyle orders a spicy margarita, Ashlynn gets a Cosmo, Raina a Diet Coke, Thomas a club soda with lime, Colin a Manhattan, and Noelle a glass of white wine. I get a glass of ice water. After drinks are ordered, Raina asks for an order of chips and guac and a side of soft pretzels.
This group has clearly known each other their whole lives. They shift from topic to topic rapidly, and sometimes several conversations are happening all at once. I mainly followNoelle’s side of the conversation—she moves seamlessly from a conversation about haircutting with Ashlynn to a discussion about dog breeds with Colin to a series of increasingly corny and lewd jokes and references with Kyle. Yet somehow, I don’t feel left out, even if I have nothing to add. She glances at me every so often, smiling, laughing, nudging my thigh with her knee—reminders of her presence, indications that she's not forgotten about me.
I don't know what to make of it.
I like it, though.
Drinks come, and the appetizers not long after. Since I only got a glass of ice water, I don’t assume I'm invited to eat anything.
Noelle, after a few minutes, leans toward me. "Not hungry?"
I shrug. "Not my food."
She rolls her eyes, snagging a soft pretzel rod, and touches it to my lips. "Don't be silly."
