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I trail my finger through the frost on the beer mug while watching a man with bulging muscles angle himself over one of the busy pool tables.
“That’s Dillon McClinton and Liam Ehlers. They’re two men from the football team. You should see the rest of them,” Rachel sighs dramatically. “Too bad they’re taken.” I study the men. They’re handsome, but not a man in the room can hold a candle to Cade.
Don’t go there. There has got to be someone else. Anyone else.
Rachel’s right. My dating life is a disaster. Not that I would call it dating.
Dillon sinks the black eight ball into the corner pocket off a killer bank shot. He and the other man high-five, and I turn away. “You were right. I was anticipating a bunch of guys wearing hunting vests and furry hats with those flap things that come down over the ears,” I motion beside my ears, “and missing several teeth.”
Rachel laughs and smacks her thigh. “That’s what I expected when I moved here in high school. I thought everyone would have a sofa on the front porches, a toilet on the lawn, and a rusted-out 4x4 pickup truck in the driveway.”
“You’ve been to my place, so you know you described my next-door neighbor to a T, don’t you?” I raise the glass and take a sip. Since I’m driving, this will be my only drink. Not that I’m a big drinker anyway.
Rachel grimaces and shakes her head. “I don’t know why you moved there. You could have lived with me until your father forgives you. I can’t believe he thinks you’ll come crawling back home if he cuts you off.”
“Ladies,” the waitress calls as she breezes up to our table with two platters balanced in her hands. Roxanne’s face is painted to accentuate her eyes and mouth, and her boobs are about to flop out of her T-shirt. “Who ordered the tortilla roll-ups and coleslaw?”
“I did.” I raise my hand a few inches off the countertop.
“Here you go.” She lays the plate in front of me and turns to Rachel. “And this must be for you?”
“Yep.” Rachel beams as the plate of chips heaping in nacho cheese, hamburger, and jalapenos get placed in front of her.
My eyes narrow into slits. “I can’t believe you’re going to eat that in front of me. Don’t you have any compassion? I can’t believe you eat this junk when you know how bad it is for you.”
Being friends with a five-foot-eight-inch, sans heels, naturally athletic female is not my idea of fun. However, when we met on the playground back in elementary school, my seven-year-old self had no idea how frustrating it would be to watch my best friend eat everything in sight and not gain an ounce, but when I smell food, my pants grow tighter.
She slips a chip out of the pile and digs into the cheese, salsa, and sour cream. “I can’t help that you’re vertically challenged. Everyone needs one day a week where they splurge, and this is my one day. Eat up and stop pouting.”
“Fine, but you suck.” I grab a section of roll-up. “Back to your offer of a place to stay. While I appreciate it, it’s time for me to live on my own.” I bite into the morsel and study the other customers. Not one of them is wearing a flannel shirt, hunting vest, or a fur-lined hat.
“You could have found a better neighborhood.” She lifts her beer to her lips.
“It’s cheap and the only thing I could find on short notice. And it’s close to work. I figured since I’m new in town and horrible with directions, it would be best to find something close.”
She shudders. “You’re a terrible driver.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. You know I have limited driving experience.” I rarely drove in New York. There was too much traffic, and my dad had a fit every time I wanted to.
“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t your fault.”
“It wouldn’t make for a good impression at work if I were late every day. Besides, living next to my neighbors is like having extra security with their fenced-in front yard and drooling Dobermans.”
“Have you heard from your dad?”
I would have been glad to switch topics off my living arrangements if it weren’t pivoting to my dad. I don’t want to think about him. “I can’t talk to him right now. If I do, he’ll convince me to go back home.”
The fact I stood up to him and told him I wasn’t going to marry Trenton is still a shock. No one tells my father no. He thinks I’m having a mental breakdown over wedding nerves. It’s impossible to have nerves over something that was never going to happen. It was all in his imagination. So, I moved halfway across the country to avoid the situation.
Rachel’s eyes narrow into slits. “I can’t believe he took it so hard that you wouldn’t marry Trenton. Seriously, what was he thinking? The man is nice enough, but he’s kind of scrawny. Definitely not the type to instill great passion.”
Certainly not the kind of desperation Cade arose inside me. The caress of his hands over my bare skin. The precision of his mouth as he traced along my neck. Heat floods through my body, making it feel like the bar is on fire, and I shudder.
I wipe my hands on the napkin. It sucks that he only touched me to send a message and not because he wants to rip my clothes off and give me endless orgasms. “The last time you saw Trenton, he was thirteen. He does look different now.”
“You probably have a point.”
“You know how it is.” I shrug. “No one makes waves during an election year, and boy, did I make waves by getting on the front page of the tabloids.” I nibble on my food as Rachel sucks cheese off her fingers.
