Chapter 3
THREE
Juniper
Playing pool with Fisher was not what I had on my bingo card for tonight. He was the last person I was expecting to run into. After missing Byron’s party a couple of months back, I’d almost forgotten about him. Kinda. Not really.
“So, you here to catch up with Byron and Rosey?” I ask him.
He looks at me, and it’s almost like I can tell he’s imagining me naked. It’s kind of a dirty look. Like he’s thinking about sex. Or maybe I’m thinking about sex. I’m definitely thinking about sex. It’s impossible not to, being so close to Fisher.
“Yeah, and I’m here for work too.”
He’s tall, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up, showing bronzed skin pulled tight across muscled forearms. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed the forearms on a man, but Fisher’s are mesmerizing.
He laughs, and it feels like I’m standing next to a log fire.
He’s warm and comforting at the same time as being sexy as all holy hell.
“Work?” I ask. “What do you do?”
“I’m in the music business,” he explains. “I have an artist recording up at the Club.”
“Recording? Is there a studio up there?”
He nods.
“Oh, wow. I had no idea. How fun.”
He grins at me like I’ve said exactly the right thing, and I return his smile. He’s gorgeous. Perfect white teeth and blond hair that’s slightly wavy.
“Your turn,” Byron bellows across the room.
I jump in surprise. Fisher raises his eyebrows, still grinning.
“I guess it’s our turn,” he says.
“You go first,” I say, and not just because I want to see what his ass looks like in those jeans he’s wearing.
“You want to see what my ass looks like, don’t you?” Fisher asks.
Embarrassment sweeps up my body, and my eyes widen. “I do not!”
Fisher dissolves into laughter and knocks me with his elbow. “I’m kidding. Relax.” He takes my pool cue from me and heads over to the table.
I try and look everywhere apart from Fisher’s ass, but it’s difficult. I swear he chooses a shot that gives me a pretty good view of his backside. And it’s nice. Tight. Round. I hate a guy with no ass. And Fisher has plenty. He sinks two balls and then misses on the third.
“How was it?” he asks, grabbing his ass cheek.
“Not as nice as mine,” I deadpan.
He grins and nods. “I bet.”
Rosey misses her shot, so it’s me up next. When I pocket the green ball, my ass is facing away from Fisher. It’s a silent victory. I miss the blue, and I head back to my pool partner.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” he asks. His accent makes him sound very formal.
“What?” I ask with a shrug. “Take a shot that had me leaning away from you? I don’t know what you mean.”
Fisher laughs, and I order another beer from Eva. Fisher mumbles something I’ve never heard of to Eva. He probably had some fancy beer shipped in especially or something.
“So, you live in New York even though you’re British?” I ask.
“My family came over when I was eight. So, I don’t feel British, even though I still have a trace of an accent.”
“A trace?” I laugh. “You sound like Prince William to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks. “Well, I’m definitely not Prince William. What about you? You went to school with Byron?”
“High school, yeah. I was… different back then. I always had paint in my hair and all over my clothes. I was obsessed with art. It’s all I ever thought about.”
He looks at me, waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, he asks, “What changed?”
I smile. “Real life.”
I think back to all the emotions of the time. I had to make a choice, and I chose Star Falls. I don’t think I realized back then what I was sacrificing.
“That’s all you’re giving me?”
“It’s a long story,” I say.
Fisher must see my expression because he doesn’t press me.
“One for another time,” I assure him.
“But you still paint?” he asks.
“When I get the chance,” I say.
Truthfully, I do it more now than I have for a while. Riley’s older and more independent. And she likes coming to the studio with me. Painting with Riley is… different, but I still like it. Sharing that time with my daughter is so important. It feels sacred or something.
“So, what did you say you do for work?”
“I work in a school. I’m a teaching assistant.”
“Wow.” He slides his palm over his jaw. “I don’t know how you have the patience.”
I laugh. “It’s a question of lowering your expectations.”
He narrows his eyes, like he’s taking in something profound. “Yeah. I like that way of thinking about it. It’s a good way of going through life, too,” he says.
“What? Having low expectations?” I ask.
“Yeah, that way, you’re not disappointed.”
Something niggles in me at his observation.
“I’m not so sure that’s true,” I say. “I mean, if you expect a six-year-old to behave like an adult, then you’re going to spend your life frustrated and annoyed.
But in life? You gotta have expectations or…
I find people live up or down to your expectations, whatever they may be. ”
Fisher holds my gaze, and he’s about to speak when Byron interrupts.
“Hold that thought,” Fisher says.
He takes a shot, and I swear he misses on purpose. He barely looks at the table. I’m not complaining because that means he comes back to me quickly.
“Is that true in your experience?” he asks.
“What?” I ask.
“That if you expect people to be one way, they generally are.”
I take in a breath. I’ve not really thought about it before. “Yeah. I think so.”
“And if you expect nothing of someone, they’ll give you nothing?”
I shrug. This conversation has taken a turn I wasn’t expecting. I hadn’t planned to give him philosophical insight, just an understanding that, in my experience, people tend to turn out to be what you expect.
“I think I assume people are going to be assholes,” he says.
I tilt my head and look at him. He seems so carefree on first glance, but maybe that’s not true if you dig a bit deeper.
“I’m not sure,” I say.
“That people are assholes?” he asks.
“That you assume everyone’s going to be an asshole.”
His eyes widen in surprise, and then he regains his friendly expression and grins at me. “You’re an interesting woman, Juniper.”
“And it’s my shot.”
I manage to sink a couple of balls, and then when I miss, my pulse starts to race—because it means I get to hang out some more with Fisher.
“Do you go back to the UK a lot?” I ask.
“Not really. Home is New York, but I travel for work. What about you? You lived in Star Falls your entire life?”
“Sure have. Never even traveled out of state.”
He nods. “Right. That’s…”
“A little pathetic?” I suggest and laugh. “I agree. But, you know, life happens. And you have to pick. We get one life, and we can’t be the person who sees the world and the person who knows everybody in Star Falls to their bones.”
Fisher smiles, his eyes fixed on me, like he’s trying to figure me out. “I don’t think many people think about life like that. Like it’s a series of choices that will lead them to have one kind of life or another.”
“Really?” I ask. “I’m not saying you plan it out, but there are crossroads in anyone’s life and moments where you know whatever decision you take, your life will end up in two different places.”
“God, Juniper,” he says and groans, and I’m not sure if I’m boring him or something.
“What?” I ask. “Am I talking too much?”
He shakes his head. “I think I could talk to you all night. You and your take on life is… bewitching.”
I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
“It very definitely is.”
His gaze is so intense, I can almost feel it pressing into me, surrounding me, daring me to say more.
I reach over to him, because I can’t not touch him any longer, and I rest my hand on his muscular arm for a beat, then two, then I force myself to pull away. “Thank you,” I say. “I’ll take any compliments you’re giving out.”