18. Sawyer
I threw on my standard,worn in jeans and a white tee with my midtown rambler boots. But my hair had become the fork in the road. It had undoubtedly been forty five minutes and I had yet to take care of this mess. I never cared much before.
On a normal day, I’d let it hang around naturally. But this was not a normal day. This was my first date with Lucy. I grabbed my black trucker hat and spun it around backwards as I placed it on my head.
I swiped the keys from the handmade trinket dish from Leanne that lives on top of my dresser, but I paused before walking out. The reflection staring back in the mirror hounded me, attempting to figure out how the hell Lucy agreed to spend the whole weekend with me.
There had to be better things she could do for the holiday weekend, but instead, she said yes to me. I’m the luckiest man in the world.
Billy hung his head off the end of the bed, staring back at me through the mirror with ultimate puppy dog eyes. “You’re staying home, bud,” I ruffled up the fur on the back of his neck and gave his head a couple of pats before leaving. He whimpered in response. “Sorry.”
I rushed out of the house and made the drive around the back parts of the hillside and pulled into Lucy’s cottage.
It had been ages since I last had a first date. It’s pitiful, really. Maybe she took pity on me. Word travels fast around here, she must know that it’s been a while and she felt bad. I guess when you spend so much time escaping the careless title—being the young adult that runs amuck with their trust fund—you become the full grown adult that stopped caring altogether.
I stopped caring about the dates and the parties, the clothes and the price on a pair of pants. Which meant I also stopped caring about finding someone that made me laugh or feel light.
Lucy walked out the front door of her cottage with her hair in loose waves that hung over her shoulder. Her fitted, silk cream colored dress fell right before her ankles. It was no more than a shade darker than her fair complexion. It clung to all of the best parts of her petite frame.
She skipped down the steps with a wide smile as I met her with a kiss on the cheek. Any worries I had dissipated once she reached me. She made me want to care. Because she genuinely wanted to be here with me.
But then her energetic disposition quickly faded once I stepped out of her field of vision. So, who knows now.
“There’s no way I am getting on that.” Her face fell flat.
I looked between her and the tangerine-orange 1990 Harley that was positioned on its kickstand. Aside from Billy, it was my literal baby. My pride and joy.
I pulled the passenger helmet out of the saddlebag. “I came prepared.”
“I don’t care if you showed up with an entire roll of bubble wrap to dress me in,” she took a step back, “I am not getting on that. I like my modes of transportation to have four wheels, minimum, with a cover on it. There’s no way. Nope,” she declared, crossing her arms against her chest.
I stepped in her direction. “Do you trust me?” I asked, then extended the helmet out towards her.
She stole one more glance at the bike, then back at me. Reluctantly, Lucy reached for the helmet with a look of fear, possibly disgust, on her face. She grumbled as she slid it over her head.
“That’s a good girl,” I patted the top of the helmet, then walked her over to the bike.
I held onto her, supporting her as she swung a leg over one side. I climbed on after, and pulling each arm of hers from behind, I wrapped them around my waist.
“Had I known, I would have worn something different,” she yelled over the engine starting. Her dress was cinched all up her legs, the majority of the fabric pooled up in her lap.
“I’m glad that you didn’t. You look amazing.”
With my words, her grip around my waist got tighter.
I switched my hat out for a helmet of my own and I booted back the kickstand. I headed down her driveway, creating a cloud of dust underneath us.
I was insistent on getting away from everything that we already knew, hopeful that a change of scenery and pace was exactly what we needed. And tonight, we were driving away from it all. We made our way through the hecticness of Downtown Rider and headed straight for the water. Everything was better at the seaport.
Nothing else mattered beyond the trees that rustled in the wind or Lucy’s hair whipping underneath her helmet as our speed increased. All I could think about were the miles passing and the time that was dwindling, bringing me closer to having a real moment with her. Any time around her before had been run-ins, a time I was lucky to be in her presence. Now, I got to have her to myself. Intentionally.
I turned down a narrow, cobblestone pathway that took us to a dark blue shack at the end.
“Here, let me help you with that,” I turned off the engine, climbed off, and stepped around the bike. As she reached to unbuckle the chin strap, I went to lift the helmet off of her head.
The graze of her fingertips against mine sent a tingle of heat through my bones. It’s insane what a simple, single touch from Lucy does to me. She brushed down her hair, taming the frizziness created by the ride.
Her legs straddled on either side of the bike… God, she looked amazing. With the fabric of her dress shifting side to side, I recognized a faint birthmark on her upper thigh trying to play a round of peek-a-boo with me. The desire to keep playing the game was tempting, but I focused on the stones beneath my feet instead.
“Thanks,” she said as she slid off the back of the bike sideways, shimming quickly to avoid major exposure. She smoothed out the bottom half of her dress and interlocked her fingers with mine as she looked around, checking to see if anyone caught her.
I stroked my thumb over hers, “I am so happy to be out with you tonight.”
She pulled herself into my side and clung onto my entire arm as we walked off.
Carter’s was one of those spots that you only knew about by word of mouth. Or in my case, wandering the backstreets of the seaport on a drunken night.
Kai, Jet, and I had stopped at one of the seaside bars a few years back. Communication between the three of us was a shit show that night, and my phone was dead. In all of my hard headed glory that consumes me when I am plastered, and the ninety-proof bourbon that swam through my bloodstream, I was determined that I could get home all on my own.
I learned really fucking fast just how wrong I was.
The neon sign of a crab and lobster holding hands with colors of red, blue, and purple flashing on and off was enough to pull me in. When I came across Carter’s, I hadn’t yet decided what my next step was since returning to Rider. I was on a permanent summer break, even in the middle of January. There were no responsibilities. I had pockets lined with a disposable trust fund and all of the time in the world.
Within a week, I was considered a regular here.
Carter’s is the closest thing to a proper English pub I had found in the States. I fit right into the bar stools like they were a glove. The dark leather upholstery, almost non-existent lighting, and every surface covered in something sticky tied the place together.
Lucy giggled at the sign out front. “That’s so cute!” she squealed in excitement.
Lucy and I settled into a dark corner booth way in the back.
“What can I get ya?” The dark-haired waitress asked without looking up from her notepad as she rushed our table.
The smacking of her gum and don’t care attitude was exhilarating and I expected nothing less from the staff here. Subtle surliness was all a part of the experience at Carter’s. A grumbling man came up behind her before I could even open my mouth all of the way.
“Don’t worry about them, Gina. This guy never orders food anyway. He slams back beer, and then dips out.”
“Yeah, after giving you a hundred and ten percent tip!”
He let out a low laugh, patting the top of my shoulder.
“Hey, Carter, how have you been?” When I stood to hug him, he smelled like his usual stench of “a pack a day” cigarettes—sounded like it, too. “This is Lucy.”
She let out one of her wide smiles, the kind anyone is lucky to get from her.
She reached her hand up for him to shake. He grabbed it, then kissed the top. “Lucy. Nice to meet you,” Carter said with a wink. “This city boy right here can give any of these old drunkards a run for their money. What are you doing out with a guy like this?”
I grabbed the back of my neck and looked away from the table. These types of anecdotes are definitely not first-date material. I worried that she would think I was some sort of boozy bum.
Another one of Carter’s rough pats hit my shoulder. “Hey, boy, I am just messing with you.”
“Heh, yeah,” I winced, pressing my back against the booth. Fuck, did I wish I could retreat into…I don’t know, a place anywhere else but here. “I know.”
I felt a soft grip of Lucy’s hand on my leg, she rubbed her thumb over my knee, giving it a quick squeeze. She then looked over at me out of the side of her eye. This banter with Carter is the usual, it’s what we do. But she doesn’t know that, and she’s trying to reassure me, let me know that she’s here. The heart of this woman. I placed my hand over hers and squeezed back.
Carter pointed and snapped his fingers, and mouths something to Gina. She pranced off, then returned with an abundance of empty pint glasses and pitchers filled to the brim with beer.
Lucy was completely enthralled, she started to wiggle with excitement in her seat without even knowing what was going on. I sat forward, with my head in my hands contemplating how this night turned into this.
I outdrink everyone in this establishment one time, and Carter thinks it’s my go-to party trick.
Maybe bringing her here wasn’t the best decision after all. But I wanted to share little pieces of me, a place that has helped form me into who I am. And large parts of myself have been found here at Carter’s. These booths, barstools, and large pints of beer—a lot of clarity has been found in each of them.
“They’re acting like I should have gotten you a birthday present or something. What exactly is going on here?” Lucy leaned over and spoke into my ear, just loud enough.
“A stupid drinking contest,” I said back to her.
She sat back up straight and joined in on the fun, let out a whoop, whoop, and started clapping. Everyone started to get louder, they even started to chant my name. It was ridiculous, I bowed my head and let out a low laugh. I looked over at her and mouthed sorry, but she shrugged my apology off.
“Show me what you got,” she said with a wink.
I clutched onto the glass that Carter finished pouring. He pumped his fist in the air a couple of times, while Gina stood there with a deadpan expression.
“I will do this… under one condition.”
“What is it?” Carter cuts in.
“You do this with me,” I nodded over at Lucy.
Her already fair complexion turned ghost-white. Lucy contemplated my offer. She scanned the faces of those hovering over our table but then grabbed a glass of her own. Carter scrambled for the pitcher to fill her glass. She snarled, she squinted. Her sweet, comforting persona was no more. She meant business.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Banks.”
Banks. She’s already giving me nicknames.
“On the count of three, okay?” Carter called out. “One, two..”
“GO!” She tapped the bottom of her glass on the table before she brought the glass to her lips.
With her head tilted back and her neck stretched in its entirety, the beer was already dripping down the corners of her mouth. A triple threat, that one. Hot, adaptable, and can throw back beer in a breeze. This is so not fair!
Carter yelled out, “Sawyer, come on boy! You’re slacking!”
I lifted the glass to my mouth and chugged back as fast as I could in an attempt to catch up to her. With throats wide open, I could hear the guzzling and gulping that alternated between the both of us. Those around drunkenly cheered us on. Some even joined in on the friendly competition. But this was my race to win against Lucy and Lucy alone.
She never stopped. Glass number two… three… four, they slammed into the table after slurping them down, moving to the next one like they were on a conveyor belt.
Beer number seven was the lucky number.
Lucy smacked her hands down on either side of her empty glass, then threw her arms up in victory. The crowd cheered and chanted her name.
I have never met a more perfect woman.
“How did you…There’s no way.”
She flashed me a playful grin and a wink. One powerful enough to make me think not public-friendly thoughts. She’s going to be the death of me.
“Do you do this a lot?” I wiped away the leftover beer foam from my three day old stubble.
She was living on a high, barely able to hear me as everyone continued with their loud praise. She leaned in quickly, kissing me for only a moment. I could taste the second-hand buzz that fell off her lips onto mine.
She whispered into my ear, “Actually never. Guess this makes you my first.” She spun around and faced the crowd, feeding more into the drunken attention.
But eventually, the adrenaline died down and everyone vacated our vicinity. It was finally just the two of us—we were left alone with our flushed cheeks and slurred words.
I started to stack the dishes, moving them away from us, but she scooted in closer to me, bringing all other movements to a halt. I moved her legs to drape over my lap.
“Thank you for this,” she said softly, kissing the peak of my shoulder.
“I promise this wasn’t the plan. This was,” I said into the crown of her head. “Just us, sitting. Alone, close. So close that I wish there was a way to make us even closer.”
She let out a hazy hum as she nuzzled into me.
“Contrary to Carter’s statement, I did plan on ordering food here. Their lobster rolls are the best. Nothing you’ve ever had before.”
“Next time,” she said.
Next time.
I gave her thigh a squeeze in response. But the next thing I knew, she was resting her head on me as she began to uncontrollably giggle.
I removed my hand from her, “I’m sorry. Should I not have?”
The giggling progressed. Lucy was almost delirious before it all came to an abrupt halt.
“No, no, sorry,” she pulled at my hand and placed it back on her leg, tracing her fingertips over the couple of rings that I wore.
Both of which used to belong to my dad back in the nineties. He never thought much of them, he was ready to get rid of them. Until I swiped them because they reminded me of him, reminded me of how “cool” they made him.
Lucy started to spin them around my fingers before she laced her hand with mine.
“I like the way that I feel when you touch me.”
I began rubbing my free hand up and down her leg. Suddenly, the roars of the bar had disappeared—she had the power to make it feel as if we were the only ones here. She softly scratched my forearm with the very tips of her fingernails.
I had contracted full body goosebumps.
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel every bit of her touch.
Every swipe, every slither.
Her touch was divine ecstasy.
She moved her hand back down my arm, sliding onto my thigh. We mirrored each other’s motions. Even over the rough denim of my jeans, I felt everything. I glided my hand up her side and grasped it behind her neck, moving it softly around her throat, pulling her in for a kiss.
With the lightest of pressure, she let out a soft moan into my mouth. I’d let that sound fill my ears forever if I could.