Chapter 12
Britain
May 2, 2023
To Georgia,
I’ve had this little notebook for over a week now, but I’m just now getting around to writing something in it. I don’t really know where to start, but I guess I’ll try and get you up to speed since the notebook came into my life.
I’ve spent the last week in full hermit/lounge mode at my little rental at Spearhead. It got surprisingly cold this past week, and we even got a late season snowstorm over the weekend. (Lol, I guess I’m still talking to you about the weather.) The weather was a perfect excuse to hide out though, from my neighbor. We’ll call him “L.” I haven’t talked to or seen L since I came home from your house a week ago.
He did text me during the snowstorm to see if the heater was keeping the space warm enough, and to make sure I had everything I needed, but that’s been the extent of it. The only place I’ve been going is to the gym below. I noticed he cleaned all the snow off my car, which gave me butterflies. Which is silly because I basically turned him down and have been avoiding him. It’s been easy to not cross paths though. He’s only home late at night, and then is up and out early, even during the snow.
I hate to admit that I was worried about him, even checking out the window for his car every hour or so. He ended up coming in at 10:30 at night and all I could think about was, was he on a date? So stupid, right? I’ve had to stop myself from texting him probably ten times. I just know I shouldn’t. So I don’t.
So if I haven’t been leaving the rental, what have I been up to then? Mostly talking to the girls and Jess everyday, had a virtual session with Carla, but I’ve been reading your notebooks, too. Turns out you were quite an avid writer. I guess that’s what you were doing in your room all those nights. I’m curious to see if you wrote about my dad, or Alexander, but so far it’s mostly been excerpts about me. The steno pads weren’t packed in chronological order, so I’ve just been picking my way through the pile. I’m hoping to get some answers along the way.
Maybe you couldn’t talk about what happened with my father, so you wrote about it, and that was your final gift to me. Is that right? Here’s hoping! I might try and get crazy and go to the local bar here in Spearhead tonight. I’m getting tired of cooking meals for one every night. What else is new? Guess I’ll try writing again, when the mood hits.
-Britain
God, I feel so awkward writing in a diary. Not sure I’m going to do that again. My stomach growls and I grab my cardigan. There’s no reason I need to stay in the rental the rest of my stay. The roads are cleared, and even though there’s snow on the ground in spots, it’s not cold anymore. I head to the bedroom to get changed while I think about where to get food from tonight.
I still haven’t had Maggio’s, and pizza sounds delicious, but so does some bourbon on the rocks. I do feel a bit weird going back to Colton’s, though. What if I run into Sandy, or worse, her son? He hasn’t come home before nine once in the last week, so I feel like I should be safe. It’s 6:45, plenty of time to grab a drink and dinner and head back home.
I pull on jeans, a sweater tank top and matching cardigan, and mini Ugg boots. I don’t even bother with makeup, the bar has low lighting. I fortuitously blew my hair dry this morning, so all I add is a dash of perfume and head out the door grabbing my keys and phone.
I park at Colton’s, which has a surprising amount of cars in the parking lot. Shit, maybe this was a mistake. I’m not ready for a whole bunch of people. I thought it’d be dead on a Wednesday night. Time for some reinforcement. I flip down the visor and look in the mirror. I pull out my list of affirmations, and recite, “I smell like lilacs and baby cherubs. I am worthy of people’s attention. I am a wonderful conversationalist. I give great blow jobs, too.” Okay, that’s enough.
I walk into Colton’s, and damn, it is a lot busier than last time. I guess everyone wanted to get out after the snow. I head straight for the bar top, noting most of the tables are filled. There’s two empty seats on the far end, and I snag one of them, feeling self conscious for some reason. Luckily, Rick walks over, instantly putting me at ease. He throws down a cocktail napkin the same suave way he did last time. “I was beginning to think we scared you away. Nice to see you again.” He has a slight accent, it’s country, but not twangy. I can’t place it.
“Hi, Rick. Not scared away, I’ve just been working on some stuff.” He answers me with a single nod in acknowledgment.
“Well, what can I get you, sweetheart?”
“Can I please have a Blanton’s on the rocks, and then I’ll take the special.”
He laughs, “You ever gonna ask what it is first?”
“Probably not, it’s how I live my life on the edge.” I say with a wink.
“Well you’re in luck, it’s roadkill pie.” He deadpans. I laugh.
“No, it’s not. And even if it was, I’d at least be able to tell people about the one time I ate roadkill pie at a place called Colton’s, so bring it on.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” He doesn’t say anything else, just starts pouring my bourbon. I watch him as he works. He’s attractive, probably my age, sporting a man bun, and his forearms are covered in ink. I bet he’s good in bed. Too bad I’m not attracted to him. He honestly reminds me of Alexander. Both tanned with longer, light brown hair. The only difference is Alexander’s arms are ink-free and he sports a year-round beard.
I settle into my stool, looking around the place. Nearly every booth and table is full. It’s louder in here tonight, too, even though there’s no music on the jukebox. Nobody’s hanging around it putting something on either. I notice Sandy isn’t here tonight, which is a relief. I don’t know what I’d say to her. “Sorry I haven’t been back by the coffee shop. It’s just that I turned down your son because I’m pretty sure I’m not hot enough to date him, and I’m such a loser I get jealous over past flings, so it would never work out because I’m incapable of casual relationships, and that’s all it would ever be.”
I let loose a deep sigh and take my first sip of bourbon. The warmth is hitting just right, and I feel a tingle down my spine, an awareness. I look around and meet a pair of eyes across the bar. It’s Liam. He must have just come in. I would’ve noticed him here, and I definitely checked the parking lot for his car.
I shouldn’t, but I feel a bit stung that he chose the furthest possible spot from me when there’s literally an open stool beside mine. But that’s okay, he doesn’t have to sit by me. He’s probably moved on from whatever that night was a week ago. I’ll still be replaying that kiss in my head until I’m 50, but I’m sure it was just a dime a dozen for him.
I give him a half smile in acknowledgment and he immediately looks away, not returning the gesture. That’s okay, but fuck, polite much? Whatever. I told myself I was coming here to sit alone with my drink and some yummy food. Which will hopefully be here soon. I turn my head away from his direction. If indifference is what he’s about, I can do that, too.
I was trying not to be on my phone all night, but I feel helpless sitting here alone. I don’t really know Rick, and he’s busy anyways, not exactly available for chatting with a random bar guest and I’m surrounded on both sides by older couples. So, I guess I’ll sit here and read the news. That’s fine. This is fine. Everything’s fine.
Ten minutes later, Rick’s back, plate in hand.
“Alright, darling, tonight you’re having chicken milanese with an arugula salad and a side of garlic and herb angel hair.”
“Oh my god, this looks amazing. Thank you so much.”
“Another drink?” Oh, I look down and realize I’ve absentmindedly sipped away my whole glass while I was reading.
“Umm, best not. Have to drive. Can I just have a water, please?
“Coming right up.”
“Thanks,” I say, while giving him a smile, so happy to have my food.
There’s a presence at my side, and then a deep voice whispering in my ear, “He’s single, you should just ask him out.” Liam. I immediately turn to face him, my face instantly pink from his proximity and his words. He leans back away from my ear, standing at full height now. “I saw you checking him out while he made your drink, and the way you just lit up for him. I thought you might be wondering if he was single. Just trying to help out.”
He looks fucking mouth watering right now. His suit is expertly tailored and formed to his perfect body. He has a rocks glass in hand filled with what smells like bourbon, too, and one elbow is resting on the bar top. He's looking at me with indifference and cool nonchalance. Why the fuck is it turning me on so much?
“For the record I’m not interested in asking Rick out. Nothing could ever come of it. It would be pointless.”
”Why? Because he works in a bar?” His tone edges on snide.
“Fuck you! Is that what you think of me?” I come from less than Liam’s ever had. I don’t give a fuck where someone works or what they do for a living. “And no, it’s not because he works in a bar. It’s because I’m only here for five weeks and I’m incapable of casual relationships, and that’s all it could be. Also, while I think Rick is objectively attractive, I’m not attracted to him. No offense, Rick,” I shoot in his direction. He hasn’t moved an inch since Liam came over. That’s a small town for you.
“None taken.” Rick tips two fingers off the top of his head towards me, in mock salute.
“You don’t do casual relationships. So is that why you wouldn’t go out with me, again?” Liam asks. What the fuck?
“If you have to know, I didn’t say yes to going out with you because I can’t have my heart shattered, again. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to eat my meal now. I know you’re probably not used to your stick-thin, supermodel girls eating. Just another reason why we,” I use my hands to motion between the two of us, “would never work.”
He grabs my wrist firmly in his hand and says, “don’t do that. You’re right that you’re nothing like the girls I’ve dated.” His tone is deadly serious. “You’re better.”
I wasn’t expecting that. I suck in a sharp inhale in shock.
“And you’re fucking gorgeous, don’t do that.” He’s still holding my wrist in his hand, and I’m just staring at him, stupefied.
“Sorry,” and he releases my hand. I drop it slowly to my lap. “Rick, can you add Britain’s stuff to my tab?”
“I don’t need you to do that,” I say to him, but he’s already walking away from me.
“Oh, I know you don’t need me to.” He doesn’t even turn around as he says it.
“Fuck me,” I whisper
“I think if you just asked him to, he would,” Rick says. Fucking small towns.
“Thanks, Rick.” I give a fake smile, “Can I open a new tab? I’d like to buy the whole bottle of Blanton’s, to go.”
“Uh huh, I got you.”
“Also, can I get a box? The food looks amazing, but I seem to have lost my appetite.”
“No problem, sweetheart.”
When I get back to the house, I slip my box in the microwave, grab my “Spearhead” wine Yeti, the quilt off the bed, and the bottle of Blanton’s. I make my way to the back deck. It’s technically shared space with Liam’s house, but it didn’t look like he was planning on leaving the bar anytime soon.
I curl up in an Adirondack chair, setting my phone on one arm, and my cup and Blanton’s on the other. I just sit there in silence, staring at the lake, and the stars. You can see so many out here right now. I’m sipping on my bourbon, and I would be thoroughly enjoying the moment, except I can’t stop thinking about Liam. And what he said.
I definitely made some assumptions about him, if what he just told me was true. But even so, I don’t know that I’d be down for just a couple weeks of dating. He certainly doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, but I just know myself. In five weeks, I’d probably be in love. I fall fast, always have. And then what? That’s what I can’t seem to reconcile. Then what?
I turn my phone over and check the time, it’s already 10:30. Ugh, I’ve been out here a lot longer than I thought. I grab all my stuff and head back in. I should probably eat something so I don’t wake up hating my life.
Liam’s car still isn’t home. I don’t know why I always check; what if he was? It’s not like I’m going to walk over there and knock on his door, though I’ve been tempted. I trudge up the steps dropping everything in the small entry, too tired and too buzzed to care. I turn on the microwave to warm up my food and head to the bedroom to put on some pajamas.
I slide open the drawer and see the pink and lace negligee from Jess at the bottom. It’s probably the buzz, but why not? I can still feel pretty and wanted even if there’s no one to see it. I strip down and slide it on. The silk feels amazing against my chilled skin.
I snag a glance in the full-length mirror before leaving the room. I look good. Maybe not supermodel good, but definitely natural model good, and that’s got to count for something, right?
I grab my box out of the microwave and head into the small living room, I haven’t even sat down when my phone pings.
Liam
You need to close your windows, Bambi.
My cheeks start to burn. God, the thought of him seeing me in this gets me wet instantly. I stand up to go close the windows, but I stop midway. No, screw that.
Britain
make me.
I plop back down on the sofa, only to hear his footsteps pounding up the steps. No sooner, there’s a knock on the door. I go completely still, fork midbite. Shit, he called my bluff. Or did I just bait him on purpose? Was I hoping he’d come up and make me?
I set the food on the coffee table and make my way to the door. I glance down at myself. Should I throw on a sweater or something? My nipples are hard and visible through the thin silk, but my body is already moving before my mind tells it to and I open the door.
The way Liam looks at me right now is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s desire, and anger, and longing. He looks me up and down. When he speaks, finally, his voice is hoarse and strained.
“Bambi, please. It’s torture seeing you.” Again, my body is moving before my mind tells it to, and I grab the back of his neck pulling him in to kiss me. I don’t start with a peck. No, I’m holding nothing back. I let him see how much I want him, how much I’ve wanted him since the first night at Colton’s. He’s gripping me at the waist now, his fingers sliding across the silk at first, before locking in. I move my tongue into his mouth, and he’s meeting mine stroke for stroke. He bites my lip and I moan, giving myself away. I’m on my toes now, needing to be closer, needing his body next to mine. I’m desperate.
He pushes me a step into the apartment and I let him guide me, so he pushes me in another step, using his foot to slam the door behind him, never loosening his grip on my waist.
“Bambi,” he whispers in my ear and I rub my slick thighs together from the sound. “I don’t just want sex. If that’s all this is to you, please tell me now. I just need to know.”
I’m basically panting with anticipation, my skin feels like it’s on fire, my knees are getting weak. “It’s not just sex for me. It’s more.”