21. Seth
21
SETH
T he neon sign casts a blue glow across my hands as I open the bar’s heavy wooden door. My heart is beating harder than it should. This is a mistake.
"Evening, Mr. Baker." The bouncer nods.
I scan the room, searching for those familiar curves, that shy smile. No Abbie. The disappointment sits like lead within me.
"Your usual, sir?"
"No." The word comes out too fast. "Just checking in on our newest hire."
I slide into the darkest corner booth, angling myself toward the bar. The leather seat creaks beneath me as I slide around the table. My fingers roam the polished wood table, betraying my nerves.
"Can I get you anything, Mr. Baker?"
"Whiskey. Neat."
The waitress disappears. My eyes drift back to the empty spot at the bar where she should be standing.
The whiskey arrives. I don't touch it.
Damn it. I'm better than this - prowling around like some lovesick teenager. Corey called dibs. We've been friends twenty years, partners in everything. One girl shouldn't change that.
But her smile. The way she bit her lip when she was nervous. How soft her skin felt under my-
"Fuck." The whiskey burns going down. I shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be thinking about her. About that night.
Corey’s name lights up my phone again. I let it ring. Can't trust myself to sound normal right now.
The door swings open and there she is. I hold my breath. Abbie glides effortlessly back behind the bar, her curls bouncing with each step. She hasn't noticed me yet in this shadowy corner. Good.
I watch her set up, methodically checking bottles and wiping surfaces. Her hands move with more confidence now. The way she arranges everything just so, precise and focused.
Twenty minutes. That's how long I make myself wait before standing. Each step toward the bar feels weighted. Wrong. But I can't stay away.
"Evening, Abbie."
She startles, nearly dropping the glass she's polishing. A blush creeps up her neck as she turns.
"Seth! I didn't... um... is Corey with you?"
"Just me tonight. He's probably still buried in contracts and spreadsheets." I settle onto a barstool, loosening my tie. "Man's a workaholic sometimes."
"Oh." She tucks a strand behind her ear. That nervous habit of hers. "Can I get you something?"
"Bourbon, neat."
Her fingers brush mine as she sets down the glass. That light touch sends searing electricity through my skin. I shouldn't react this way. She's Corey's girl. Off limits.
"How've you been?" The words come out rougher than intended.
"Good. Busy with classes and..." She trails off, fidgeting with her apron. The awkwardness hangs thick between us.
This was a mistake. I should leave before I do something stupid. But I can't make myself move from this barstool, can't tear my eyes away from her.
"Listen, about the other night..." I lower my voice.. "I wanted to make sure you're okay. The first time can be..." The bourbon burns my throat. "Intense."
Her cheeks flush that delicious shade of pink. She busies herself arranging bottles that don't need arranging.
"I'm fine." Her voice barely carries over the music. "It was..." She bites her lower lip, and damn if that doesn't send heat straight through me. "Different."
"Different good?"
The glass slips in her hands. She catches it, but not before she shoots me a look of panic that quickly turns charged. The spark's still there, crackling between us.
"Maybe." Her eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second before darting away. "I mean, I've never..."
"Done anything like that before?"
She shakes her head, back and forth, that blush deepening. Christ, she's beautiful when she's flustered.
"Would you..." I want to stop myself before I say something stupid. Dangerous territory here. "Consider doing it again?"
Her sharp intake of breath tells me everything I need to know. The way her pupils dilate, how she unconsciously leans closer to me.
"It’s possible." But she doesn't move away.
"Possible.." I trace the rim of my glass, watching her follow the movement.
The tension crackles between us, hot and insistent. She opens her mouth to respond, but a customer waves her down from the other end.
She glides back after serving the other customer, a new sway in her hips that wasn't there before. My bourbon's getting warm but I couldn't care less.
"Where were we?" Her voice is husky, meant just for me.
"Discussing possibilities." I close the distance between us. "You never answered my question."
"Which one was that?" The corner of her mouth quirks up. Playing coy now.
"About meeting up again." The words come out like gravel. "For a little more of the same."
Her fingers trace patterns in the condensation on the bar. "I’m not sure."
"Not sure?"
"Mhmm." But she doesn't step back. Doesn't break eye contact. "You're Corey's best friend, right?"
"And business partner. Could get you fired for flirting with customers."
A soft laugh escapes her lips. "Is that what we're doing? Flirting?"
"You tell me, sweetheart."
She bites her lower lip, considering. The gesture shoots straight to my groin. This woman has no idea what she does to me.
"Maybe I just like the attention." Her eyes sparkle with mischief. "Two successful, handsome men fighting over little old me?"
"Is that what this is?" I arch an eyebrow. "You playing us against each other?"
“I’m not sure….I’ve never had something like this happen before.” She smiles, and it lights up her whole face. Hell, the whole damn room.
The innocence in her voice doesn't match the heat in her eyes. What game is she playing here?
She straightens up, professional mask sliding back into place as customers approach. "Another bourbon, Mr. Baker?"
I down the last of my bourbon and stand. Any longer here and I'll do something we'll both regret. "I should go."
"Already?" The disappointment in her voice makes me warm all over.
"Early meeting tomorrow." A lie, but a necessary one. My self-control hangs by a thread.
She fidgets with her apron strings. "Oh. Right. Of course."
"We'll see each other again soon." I adjust my tie, needing something to do with my hands besides reaching for her. "Corey mentioned dinner plans."
"Did he?" Her eyes light up, and damn if that doesn't make me want to stay.
"Yeah. Though maybe we should skip the drinking games this time."
A blush creeps across her cheeks. "Probably wise."
I leave a hundred on the bar. "Get home safe tonight."
"You too, Mr. Baker."
That formal tone - she's rebuilding walls between us. Smart girl. Smarter than me, apparently, since I'm still standing here like an idiot.
"Seth," I correct her. "After everything, I think we're past formalities."
Her smile could light up the whole damn bar. "Goodnight."
I force myself to turn away, to walk toward the door without looking back. My car feels too empty, too quiet. The ghost of her perfume lingers in my mind, along with thoughts of taking her home, showing her exactly what I could do without Corey's watchful eyes. In the shower, on the kitchen counter, hell…in the lobby in front of lustful onlookers. I don't care how I have her.
But that's not how this works. Not with her. Not with us.
I grip the wheel harder and point my car toward home. Alone.