Page 84 of Between Never and Forever
I’ve got more important things to do, and I usually left the support group feeling worse, not better.
I finish my first beer and swap it out with the new one Chet dropped off, then lean back on the bar and refocus my attention on the dark horizon. I try to lose myself in the sound of the water, but I just keep coming back to Savannah.
Seeing her was like a punch to the chest.
Seeing her with Brynn? Unbearable.
She smells like vanilla and peaches, which is fitting for a name like Savannah, but it’s a shocking contrast with her appearance. Vanilla and peaches suggest southern sweetness, but nothing is sweet about Savannah. With her long silver hair, chunky black boots, and bright red lips, Savannah looks like she’d smell like cloves or cardamom. Cinnamon and ginger. Cigars and whiskey. Something spicy. Something tempting. Something dangerous.
I flex my hands at my sides. The feel of her biceps is still stuck to my palms, the memory relentless and refusing to fade. Her skin was hot. Savannah was always warm to the touch. I remember from the nights she’d sleep in my bed. She was like a personal furnace. Everything felt colder after she’d leave.
I’m hot blooded, she told me once.That’s why I have a such a temper.
I believed it then. Even now, I think I believe it still.
It’s weird to think that even after everything that’s changed, something has stayed the same.
I finish my second beer and flag Chet down for a third. Despite myself, I’m smiling when I bring it to my lips. The way she smiled and saluted me in the courtyard. Her saccharine tone of voice. The bratty way she cocked her head and sized me up.
Any other requests before I kick your pompous, patronizing ass out of my courtyard?
It took everything in me not to laugh outright.
I was a dick to her. I had to be. But the way she fired right back at me? Fuck, if I didn’t want to grab her and kiss her.
Whatever you say, Sir.
I chuckle at the memory. Her voice is playing on a loop in my head. That sexy, raspy voice.Whatever you say, Sir.I swallow a groan when the visual of wrapping her silver hair around my fist flashes through my mind. Her, on her knees.
Whatever you say, Sir.
Fucking Savannah Shaw.
Molly appears in front of me at the perfect time. Her smile is seductive, her eyes hooded and playful. I check my watch.
“Eleven-oh-five,” I say.
On the dot. Molly is never late.
I widen my legs, and she steps between them, running her hands up my thighs. The sensation hints at the alcohol in my blood stream, everything is surface-level and muted.
“Want to get out of here?” Molly asks, using her head to gesture to the side door that leads to the staff parking lot. I mentally count the beers I’ve had and blink a few times at one of the bar signs on the wall.
“I can’t drive,” I tell her honestly, and she giggles.
“It’s fine.” She takes my hand then steps back. I stand and follow her out the side door.
The music from the bar is just as loud in the parking lot, and she starts to dance a little, swaying and shaking her ass, flashing me flirty grins over her shoulder as we walk toward her car. She spins herself out, then back into my chest and presses her ass into me. I’m still half hard from imagining Savannah on her knees calling me Sir, so I groan at the contact, my hips jerking forward on impulse.
“Jesus, Levi,” Molly whispers, reaching back and palming me. “Were you ready for me?”
I don’t say anything.
What could I say?
Actually, my dick got hard thinking about the girl who broke my heart?
Nope.
