Chapter 7
Never Stop
Kiki
Forty-five minutes later, those radioactive drinks have done their job, and I’m feeling loose. Not sloppy drunk, but lighter.
Honestly, that alone feels like a minor miracle.
Plus, there’s no one staring or whispering about me. I’m just another passerby having a drink and a few laughs. There’s freedom in that.
So when Billie drags me to the makeshift dance floor, I don’t hesitate.
For the first time in months, the old Kiki resurfaces as I spin and shake. Hey, I was known around Sparkwood as a hell of a dancer, and even though I’m a bit rusty with my moves, I’ve got a handle on them by the end of the first song.
Billie, my effervescent dance partner, eggs me on, shouting encouragement as I grind my hips and fall into the beat.
We laugh, sing along to the song, and have an amazing time.
For a split second, I forget that my life is total shit ninety-nine percent of the time.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. When I’m with Eddie and Theo, life is amazing. But I need to come clean.
I have a crush on Eddie Landry. Not just any crush, either. A ridiculous, borderline embarrassing, high-school-level crush on a man who is clearly too young for me.
A man whose text response solidifies that knowledge.
Which should be enough to shut this whole thing down, except I’m not ready to release those hot as fuck dreams of Eddie’s naked body against mine.
Sue me, it’s my birthday.
Billie and I take a break and drop onto our waiting barstools, laughing and flushed from dancing.
The bartender brings us some water and a fresh round. “Good man,” I murmur, taking a sip of water as I dab my brow.
And then someone catches my eye from the far end of the bar, and everything slows around me, my stomach flip-flopping.
Eddie.
He leans against the bar, beer in hand, gorgeous as always.
His shoulders fill out his shirt, his arms strong in that way that has nothing to do with a gym and everything to do with physical work.
Blue-collar muscles, which is the most ridiculously attractive thing about this man.
That, and I’ve seen his hands in action on the job site—large, steady, strong.
No doubt my dreams would pale in comparison.
But it’s the expression he’s wearing that catches me off guard, an odd mix of heat and intensity that’s making me quiver all the way across the room.
“Holy fuck,” Billie whispers, following my line of sight. “I told you that you needed to get laid properly, and darling, I have found your man.”
I clear my throat, cutting my gaze to the bar. “That’s Eddie.”
Maybe Billie will take the news casually. Not make a scene.
So not happening.
She stands, pointing toward him. “That’s Eddie? That absolute Greek god is Eddie? What the fuck, Kiki? Why are you not climbing him like a tree?”
God, shoot me now.
I smack her hand down. “Will you be quiet?”
Granted, the bar is noisy enough, so it’s unlikely he’s heard her… yet. But if I know my cousin, she won’t rest until he’s heard every word.
“No wonder you’re dreaming about him.” She winks at me, giving me a hip check. “I’ll bet he enjoyed the show. What red-blooded man doesn’t want to see women shaking their tits and asses on the dance floor.”
My overly exuberant dancing, which only moments ago felt sexy and free, now feels embarrassing as all get out.
How much did he see, anyway? Shit. No, it’s fine. I’m hardly the first woman to get buzzed and cut loose.
So not making me feel any better.
Billie keeps her gaze locked on Eddie. “You need to take advantage of that.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“Really? Well if you don’t, I will.”
I’m not a jealous woman, but I swear I’m ready to toss my cousin’s drink on her. Who the hell does she think she is?
Oh, wait, a single woman wanting to pursue a single man who I’ve sworn off a minimum of fifteen times tonight, even providing a laundry list of reasons why we could never work.
Plus, Billie is a far better fit for Eddie. She’s only thirty-five. She doesn’t come with baggage. And she doesn’t have a town full of people side-eyeing her every time she walks into a room.
Why shouldn’t she go after him?
Because I’ll claw her eyes out. That’s why.
I lift my drink, meeting her amused gaze with a bitter glare. “Go ahead. He’s not into me, anyway.”
“Liar.” Billie chuckles and looks past me. “You must be Eddie.”
I am not prepared. Not even a little.
With a fortifying breath and sip of my neon pink drink, I spin to face him.
Fuck, he’s so gorgeous.
Mouth, please don’t utter those words aloud, or I’m sewing you shut.
“Hi.” Eddie nods toward my cousin before turning his attention to me.
He holds out a bouquet, a mix of yellows and pinks, wrapped in paper. It’s simple. Perfect.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I murmur, tracing the petals.
“They’re like the flowers from the painting in your kitchen. Figured it was an easy win.” He leans in, his lips dusting my ear as he presses a kiss to my cheek. “Happy birthday, beautiful.”
Damn but those three words turn my whole being inside out, right before my brain crashes my high.
He’s just being nice. He knows you’re forty. You are too old for him.
The thoughts crash into each other so fast I can barely keep up.
Yes, we’re friends, but friends can call each other beautiful. It doesn’t mean anything, right?
My cousin extends her hand, a wide smile on her full lips. “Hi Eddie, I’m Billie, and you are quite the gentleman.”
Eddie shifts his weight as a hint of color stains his cheeks. “Well, I try.”
“I’m sure you succeed at everything you try,” Billie murmurs. “Like dancing, am I right?” Then she turns to me. “You don’t mind if your friend twirls me around the dance floor, do you?”
Oh, I mind.
I mind so much I might actually combust.
But I take a long pull of my drink and shrug like I couldn’t care less. “I guess that’s up to Eddie.”
Eddie runs a hand along his jaw. “Actually, I was going to grab a beer—”
“Later,” Billie cuts in, grabbing his hand as she tugs him toward the floor. “Dance first.”
He glances back at me, uncertain.
I wave him off. “Go ahead. It’s fine.”
Sadly, that’s another lie.
It is not fine.
Not even a little.
Something hot and ugly twists in my chest as I watch Eddie and Billie on the dance floor.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
A front row seat to the guy I really, really like dancing with my cousin, a woman who has never heard a man tell her no.
Billie is awash in energy, too. She’s laughing, talking, leaning in close—way closer than necessary.
Bully for me, Eddie is having just as good a time.
My grip tightens around my glass, my foot tapping an angry rhythm against the stool rung.
They leave the dance floor, but instead of returning to me, Billie backs him against the wall. She says something in his ear, and he leans in to hear her better. Nods. Smiles.
Then he glances over at me, just for a second before redirecting his attention to her, the smile never leaving his face.
Something inside me spirals, as waves of uncertainty flood me.
What the hell are they talking about? Are they laughing at me? Are they planning to leave together? Figuring out how to ditch me?
Cool. Great. Fantastic.
My stomach flips hard enough that the neon pink drinks suddenly feel like a very bad decision.
They stroll over a few minutes later, and my cousin has her hand wrapped around Eddie’s arm, a shit-eating grin on her face.
I’ve never gotten into a fistfight. Not once in forty years. Think it’s about time I crossed that off my bucket list.
Better yet, time to call a cab and go home.
Billie grabs her purse and motions between the two of us. “I’m dipping out for a few. You two behave.”
My head snaps up. “You’re what? Wait, Billie!”
“Talk soon,” she sing-songs before disappearing into the crowd.
Just like that, Eddie and I are alone. Normally, that would be fine. We’ve hung out plenty of times. Shared numerous drinks.
But this time is different.
I give Eddie a wide-eyed wary glance, jerking my thumb at the door. “Well, that was Billie.”
“She’s a wild one.” Eddie chuckles, leaning next to me at the bar. He could sit. There’s an open stool, vacated by my cousin, but he chooses to stand between the stool and me.
And his presence feels closer. Bigger. More intoxicating.
How the hell am I supposed to hold a normal conversation with the man?
Maybe focus on the fact that he’s likely hooking up with your cousin at some point.
Thanks for that one, brain.
I glance up at him, noting the intensity in his gaze. “I thought you were heading to your friend’s place to watch the game.”
“Canceled. You’re more important. You only turn forty once.”
I roll my eyes, heat creeping up my neck. “Oh, great. You came to laugh at how old and decrepit I am. Fabulous.”
He snorts—beer and all—choking a little as he turns away, coughing into his hand.
“Jesus,” he mutters, wiping his mouth. Then he looks back at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Have you seen you?”
“Many times.”
He gives a defeated shake of his head. “The whole bar was watching you dance.”
“I don’t know if that’s supposed to make me feel better or worse.”
A slow smile pulls at his mouth. “Trust me. It’s good.”
I shake my head, taking a sip of my drink. “The idea that there was a bar full of people staring at my ass does not make me feel better.”
Eddie clears his throat before motioning for another beer. “Kiki, promise you won’t hit me for what I’m about to say.”
“That is never a good lead-in.”
“It’s not bad.”
Not very reassuring, bud.
I pivot toward him, resting my head on my hand. “See, that’s what people say right before they say something bad.”
Eddie chuckles, thanking the bartender as he sets down the drink. “Just… promise me.”
I’m entirely uncertain I want to know what he’s going to say, but the man seems determined to tell me.
I relent, waving a hand in his direction. “Go ahead.”
He exhales, gripping the edge of the bar. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen.”