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She comes closer, looks down, then up.
Then, she taps my nose.
“You be good,” she says. “You can have your dessert after dinner.”
She grabs her dress and skirts around me, scooping up her heels. All the way through putting on my good pants and shirt, I’m walking on air. It feels like it takes hours for her to reappear. It might be ten minutes, enough time for me to call an Uber. Then, she steps into the hall and does a little spin to cover up her shyness.
“You look fucking good,” I say, reaching for her hand.
She does, in a short dress that shows miles of leg, all the way down to her heels. I lean in and kiss the side of her neck so I don’t mess up her lipstick.
“You ready?”
She nods. “I’m so ready.”
It reminds me of our first night together, when I kept asking her if everything I was doing was alright, so terrified I would overstep. It’s so strange how quickly we moved beyond not knowing each other to this…this easy familiarity.
Like two bodies that have always known each other’s touch.
We step out into the hall. The lighting is dim, and I feel like I’m in a dream as I lead her downstairs. Our car is waiting. I help her into the backseat and hold her close, my fingers intertwined in hers. Everything feels like a dream. I don’t want to blink, and suddenly, it’s tomorrow, the Nashville skyline rising. So, I keep quiet and hold her against my side as we move through the glaring city lights. I don’t stir until the car pulls to the curb.
To our right is an upscale bar with blacked out windows. It’s sleek and dark, save for a single glowing neon cowboy boot above the door. I thank our driver and lift Sabrina out.
God, she is beautiful in the neon light, the wind from passing cars tousling her hair.
I reach for her, pulling her close. Not just for her safety, but to feel her against my body. Inside, I duck around the line and head for the back room. It’s less likely I’ll be recognized in Memphis, but it will happen at some point tonight. I may have called ahead and told them I was coming, requesting to be put in the back room, where it’s darker.
“You have a table?”
I nod, leading her through heavy drapery. We’re in a half full area that looks like the inside of a western themed bar. The music is loud, and a group of people are line dancing in the corner.
“Mr. Taylor?”
We both turn as the bartender appears. He holds out his hand, and I shake it.
“You good with this spot?” the bartender asks, indicating the far right hand end of the bar. It’s halfway behind a pillar.
“Yeah, that’s perfect,” I say, hand on Sabrina’s waist. “I’ll have a whiskey.”
“A white wine, whatever you like,” she says.
I help her onto the stool and sit with my back to the entrance. The drinks arrive in record time, and she picks up hers and bolts it halfway. Gently, I run my hand up her back.
“You nervous, baby?”
She shakes her head and then shrugs. “Maybe. We’re on a date.”
“Yeah, we are.”
Her eyes rest on me thoughtfully. “How do you feel about that?”
I lean in, kissing her mouth gently. “Reckon it’s the best decision I ever made.”
It’s easier to pretend tomorrow will never come in the darkness of the bar. She tastes like wine and pretending tonight could go on forever. I smile, and she leans in, kissing me again. Fuck, I love her being so close. My hand finds its way to her waist. I pull back and kiss beneath her ear. The little hollow beneath her ear smells so good.
“You want to dance after this?” she murmurs.
Truthfully, yes. I pull back and reach for my whiskey.
