Page 87 of Tangled Up In You
“Sure.”
When we entered, we were greeted by classic rock blaring over the speakers, wafts of cigarette smoke, and a lot of laughter. The place was small, but still nice. Far from a dive bar, even though its location and size would’ve normally pegged it as such. Spotting two seats open at the bar, we headed that way and sat down.
“What can I get for ya?” the bartender asked. She was the same one from the other time I’d gone there: short, spiky black hair, dark lipstick, and eyeliner that came into sharp points at the edges of her eyes. She had purple highlights now.
“I’ll have a Michelob,” Corbin answered, pulling out his wallet.
Before I could say what I wanted, the bartender narrowed her eyes at me. “And you’ll have an Angry Orchard?”
I gave a light laugh. “Yep. You remembered.”
“Well, you kinda have a face that’s hard to forget,” she answered before turning and getting our drinks.
Corbin lifted a brow. “Damn. I’m not used to you being the one to get all the attention while we’re out.”
I bumped his arm. “Jealous?”
“Nah,” he said with a smirk. “People can flirt with you all they want, but I’m the one you’ll be going home with.”
I leaned closer to him on the bar stool, and he slipped his arm around my waist, holding me. He looked freaking hot in his blue Kansas City baseball cap, and I fantasized about throwing him onto the bar top and fucking him right then and there. Something about him wearing a hat just did it for me.
Thankfully, I had way more self-control than that.
The bartender gave us our beers and Corbin handed her his card.
“So, this is the guy you were telling me about last time?” she asked me, nodding to Corbin.
Corbin snapped his head to me. “You told her about me? Awe.”
“Shut up,” I said to him, shaking my head. Then, I looked at her, feeling my face heat. “Yeah. This is him.”
“Well, would you look at that?” She leaned against the counter and winked. “Looks like I was right about the wholefatething after all.”
When she left to help another customer farther down the bar, I looked at Corbin. The way he was staring back at me made the breath leave my lungs. There was a softness in his eyes that just wrapped around my heart and refused to let go.
His face inched closer, and before I registered what was happening, he kissed me, right there in the center of the crowded bar.
But I didn’t think about the eyes that were probably glaring daggers into the backs of our heads. I didn’t think about anything other than the way Corbin’s lips felt against mine, and how even after all of these years, he still had a way of making me feel like we were the only two people in the world.
After we kissed, I looked around and was surprised I didn’t see the glares I’d sworn I’d felt. Mostly everyone was going about their own business, drinking and chatting with their buddies. There were only a few guys looking at us, but the stares weren’t venomous. More curious. When one stood up from his table, I saw the Raptors shirt and smiled.
“Hey, man,” the guy said to Corbin once he’d approached us. He was young, probably a handful of years younger than us, and he had a lean, athletic build. “I just wanted to say congrats on the great season last fall, and good luck on the upcoming one.”
“Thanks.” Corbin shook his hand before motioning to the guy’s shirt. “Not used to many KC fans around here.”
“I live there,” he responded, putting a hand in his front pocket while holding his near-empty beer in his other. “I’m just down here visiting a buddy for his bachelor party. Can I buy you a drink?”
That one drink turned to two, then three, and within an hour, Corbin and I had ended up at that guy’s table with all of his college buddies. They were a great group of guys, and the groom-to-be seemed excited about getting married.
He talked about his girl so much that his best man—the guy who’d first approached us and whose name was Grant—forced beer down his throat to shut him up. That caused the guy to sputter and spew a lot of it on the table, causing us to erupt into laughs.
“So are you two a thing?” Grant asked us with a smile. His eyes were a little pink and he swayed a bit.
The other guys at the table looked at us, waiting for an answer, and I froze, not sure what to say. Anyone with eyes would’ve seen us making out at the bar earlier, but the years spent hiding our relationship made me hesitate.
“Yeah,” Corbin answered, throwing his arm around my shoulders and tugging me toward him. He nuzzled the side of my head before resting his cheek on mine. His breath smelled like alcohol, and I knew he was drunk. I wasn’t any better off, not used to drinking so much. “He’s my guy.”
“Which one is the girl in the relationship?” another guy asked—I think his name was Brandon.
