5. Easton
FIVE
Easton
“Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” starts playing on the electronic jukebox in the bar. I sigh, hanging my head with a laugh that’s anything but humorous.
Jesus. Are you fucking kidding me?
The tension in my shoulders, which had just relaxed a hair now that the alcohol is working its magic, ratchets up again, and I grip my glass tightly enough that my knuckles go white.
Hazel has been on my mind day in and day out. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that she’s actually working for me.
As much as a babysitter can be considered an employee.
And now the damn music is reminding me of her, our song blasting through the bar and getting couples to stand up and waltz around drunkenly.
All I wanted to do was get a drink to clear my head, and I couldn’t even have that.
My mind drifts as the song plays, and I remember the other time I heard it in this very bar.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I completely just…wow.”
The woman smiles at me, her hand going to the back of her head as the embarrassment rings through her expression.
“Can I buy you another drink? Seeing as I just got you to spill yours all over the floor?”
I can’t help but return her grin. I know this is the last thing I need right now. A girl? A pretty girl asking to buy me a drink?
Yeah, I should politely decline since I’ll be going back into active duty in no time.
But I don’t.
“Sure. It’s Easton.” I reach out to shake her hand.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Easton. I’m Hazel, the woman who’ll be buying your next drink and promising not to spill it this time.”
I chuckle, leaning over the bar to get the bartender’s attention again. I have to shout over some cheesy love song that’s playing.
“It’d be a lot easier to order if I wasn’t battling that crap.” I point up at the speaker on the ceiling.
“Oh, come on. It’s not bad. It’s a classic. I love this song.”
Hazel is too fucking pretty, too gorgeous, and I’m already mush, a puddle in her hand.
“I stand corrected.”
Chugging away the memory with a gulp of beer, I polish off the rest of the drink and set the empty glass on the bar top.
“I hate this song.”
“Hmm, I’ve heard that before. I think you just need to get used to it.”
My heart stops as the familiar voice sounds from behind me. I turn around to see Hazel smirking at me, wearing a sinful combination of a faded tee and cut-off jean shorts.
“Sorry.” I drop my eyes to the floor before I can muster the strength to look up at her. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I can see that,” she teases, offering a laugh before rolling her eyes. “I could tell you needed the company. And since my girlfriend just left because she has to be up early, I need some, too. So…drinks?”
I don’t know what to say. It’s been a few days of Hazel working for me, and it hasn’t been terrible. It really hasn’t. It’s just that…
It’s Hazel .
Yesterday, I told her Jade would be hanging out with my buddy Mason’s kids and that she should take the day off.
I wasn’t supposed to see her, and I’ll admit that this is throwing me off. We don’t have the protection of Jade or the “office” environment to keep things on the level.
“Come on, Easton. We can play a game of pool. When’s the last time you had a real opponent?”
That gets me, and I silently curse how well Hazel knows me. Pool is my one and only favorite pastime, and she’s using it to get her way.
And dammit, I’m going to let her.
“Alright, alright.” I slide off the stool, hanging my arm over the bar to single I need a new drink before nodding at Hazel’s empty. “What’re you drinking?”
“That would be a gin and tonic, sir. Same as always.”
“Extra lime?” I cock a brow at her, remembering that she preferred her booze stuffed with things.
Hazel grins, lighting up not just her face but the entire damn room. “Of course.”
All I can do is nod, and when the bartender comes over, I get our drinks and follow Hazel over to the first open pool table.
It’s dim here around the tables, the only light coming from the gaudy lamps that hang over the top of each rectangle of green felt.
I used to play in tournaments held at this very bar. It’s been ages since I’ve had the time, though. Running my own private security business leaves me with little free time.
“I might be a little rusty. I haven’t played at all in a while.”
Her brow raising, Hazel turns down the corners of her mouth. “How have you survived without your regular pool fix?”
A chuckle escapes, and I shrug with one shoulder as I walk over to the cues and take one down, the longest they have available.
“Eh, hasn’t been easy.” I mime scratching at my chin, all jittery. “I definitely need a fix.”
Hazel smiles, but it’s tight. It’s then I remember that her parents were junkies. She was bounced around in foster care because they were dealers and addicts who never got their lives together.
Guilt hits me, and I drop my head. “Sorry.”
It’s quiet before I hear her walk up to the rack of cues, taking one and then patting me on the shoulder.
“It’s okay. We haven’t talked in years. I don’t expect you to remember everything .”
There’s weight on that last word, but I don’t mention it. We both know there are some things between us we’ll never forget, and they’re exactly what we don’t want to talk about.
“Do you want to rack, or should I?” I sweep my arm out over the pool table, putting on my best Vanna White.
“Umm, that’s a you thing, buddy.” Hazel grabs the blue cube of chalk and dusts it over the end of her cue. “I know how much you love it.”
“Well,” I take the chalk from her when she offers it, hitting my cue with it before circling over toward the other end of the pool table where the balls are waiting, “if you win, you’ll get your chance fair and square.”
“If I win? Oh, Easton. That’s adorable.”
Resting my cue against the table, I pull out the triangle to rack the balls and start piling them in, making sure they’re all set correctly without any two of the same type touching each other.
“That’s big talk coming from the woman who hit me with her stick every time we played in the past.”
“You make it sound like I wasn’t purposefully doing that to annoy you?”
“Oh!” I exclaim, my eyes flaring wide as I playfully glare at her. “The truth is revealed!”
Just before I put the eight ball in its proper place, I knock it three times on the table for good luck.
“Oh, lord. You still do that stupid ritual with the eight ball? Haven’t you learned that it does not work?”
“Hey,” I pick up the eight ball and gesture with it at her as I glare again, “this is my pregame ritual. You can’t mess with a man’s pregame ritual.”
Hazel holds up her hands in surrender, her grin easy and relaxed. “My bad. But maybe consider a new one when I kick your ass.”
“We’ll just see about that.”
We begin the game, and I break because Hazel “wants to be a gentleman.” I’m already smiling and laughing more than I have in…fuck, has it been years?
The thing is, it’s not good. Hazel is the last person I should be opening up to, the last woman I should be casually flirting with, and yet here I am.
I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t seem to help myself. I can feel us both falling back into familiar patterns of playful teasing and conversation.
Why is she just so damned charming?
As we play, I sink three balls before missing. My last shot is sloppy as hell, and I’m going to blame it on the fact that I can’t stop sneaking glances at Hazel’s ass.
Dammit, man. Get out of your head. This is so not good.
“Ha!” she teases. “My turn!”
Taking a swig of her drink, Hazel sets it down on a nearby high-top table before walking to the other side of the pool table.
She has to slide past me, and shit, I’m not sure if she does it on purpose or not, but Hazel brushes right past me, her ass skirting over my zipper.
My cock twitches in my pants, betraying me because he doesn’t give a fuck if this is complicated.
Quiet down, you. We are not going there.
Hazel lines up her shot, bending over the table so that I can’t help but check out the ass that just brought my dick to life, and easy as pie, she sinks the green striped ball into the pocket.
From there on, I don’t get to shoot again—not even once.
Ball after ball, Hazel drops them into the pockets until there’s only the eight-ball remaining.
“What the absolute fuck? Since when did you become an expert at pool?”
I’m in utter shock as Hazel grins at me, clearly very happy with herself. She’s definitely kicked my ass, as promised.
Still, there’s a flicker of something in her eyes after she sinks the eight ball, and it’s official that she’s won.
“Well, let’s just say I practiced. Just in case.”
For when I got back from the military…to impress me. Fuck .
“Okaaay,” I drag out, wanting desperately to change the subject, “what do you want for winning?”
Hazel smiles and leans against the pool table, regarding me. I squint at her, all false annoyance, as she reaches up and scratches her chin.
“Go on. Take your time.” I glance up at the clock. “We’ve got four whole hours till closing time.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, reminding me too much of all the nights we had in this bar that went on past closing. How we were kicked out eventually, finding our way back to her place and indulging in another type of fun.
My erection is straining behind my zipper all the more now, and I clear my throat, trying to think about baseball or infected wounds.
Anything to take my mind off the best sex I’ve had in my life.
“Alright, Easton.” Grinning, Hazel reaches for my cue, and I hand it over, narrowing my eyes at her. “I’ll take another drink, and I have a few questions for you. No dodging.”
I stiffen. Answering questions could be a bad fucking idea. But Hazel’s eyes are glowing, and I just can’t say no.
“I suppose I owe you. Still,” I reach for her empty glass and mine, angling myself toward the bar, “all you had to do was ask, Hazel, not kick my ass in pool.”
“Ah, but this was much more fun.”
I don’t respond; I just shake my head with a reluctant grin and head over to order. I have no clue what the fuck fate is up to bringing this woman back into my life.
I have zero time for a relationship with anyone, let alone the woman I ruined things with. And I don’t want to complicate things between us even more.
Keeping things professional is the best bet for both of us.
Blurring the lines between being friends and being more will only wind up hurting us both. I can’t commit to anything, and Hazel deserves more than that.
Still, in the back of my mind, a tiny voice screams at me. It’s faint, a voice I haven’t listened to in years, but it’s there.
You loved her more than anything else, Easton. You were going to come back, but you were a chicken shit, and you ran.
I shrug all that away. It couldn’t work then, and it won’t work now. There’s no use pretending any different.
I won’t set myself up for pain, and I will never forgive myself if I hurt Hazel again.
So, it’s just drinks and a chat. I can manage that.
Sure, Easton. Sure .