Chapter 4
four
Adelaide
Present day
“Tequila slammer?” Brax says, after I’ve just said okay to a shot.
“You guys are hard core.” I turn and reach for the bottle behind me.
I swiftly line up the glasses and pour us all a shot.
I reach for the salt and lime wedge, but the other friend, Eric, shakes his head.
“There’s no point trying to make that shit taste better,” he mutters with a shudder.
“But I guess I can’t be a party pooper.”
I laugh. He has a point there, it’s not the tastiest drink in the world.
I’m more a red wine kind of girl with a bowl of pasta, but tonight I need a little something to take the edge off.
I’ve been at the bar most nights, and unpacking the rest of my stuff when I can.
Trying to make my apartment as cozy and as comfortable as possible has become like therapy for me.
It isn’t hard, the place is cute and quaint, but every move makes you reorganize and eliminate things you don’t really need or use anymore.
When I packed up my place back in Massachusetts I left a whole pile of things behind or donated it to Goodwill.
Anything that reminded me of Cam, basically, and things I just didn’t need or want anymore.
“I like things the old fashioned way,” Brax says. “Pass the salt, sweetheart.”
I pass it over and watch him sprinkle some on to the back of his hand. Eric waves it off, and Denver’s eyes meet mine as he cocks his head and says, “I’ll do it if you do, Adi.”
My gaze shifts to his and I shrug. “Done.” What the heck.
My boss can’t fire me after today’s shift.
Lorna kept telling me how grateful she was that I could come in at a moment’s notice, so it’s pretty safe to say I’m good to go.
It’s also the first time since I’ve worked here that I’ve actually said yes to anyone buying me a drink, and maybe I should wait until my shift is over, but it might actually just get me through to the end of it.
We all take a glass and clink them together. Denver is watching me intently and the flickering lights from the dance floor make his eyes twinkle that bit more.
Fuck me, he’s handsome, and I didn’t discount the number of looks he got when he entered the bar. I think every woman in this damn place was sizing him up.
I tip some of the salt onto the back of my hand. Then Denver’s knuckles brush mine, asking for some, too, without words. I do so, swallowing as I feel his gaze on me. My lips part he licks the salt from his hand without taking his eyes off mine, then downs his shot.
My heart kicks in my chest, a little too healthily. Heat pools between my thighs at the smirk he gives me. He’s just too goddamn pretty for his own good.
I lick the salt off my hand and raise the shot glass to my lips.
Knocking the golden liquid back in one fell swoop.
The bite of it hits the back of my throat like a grenade.
My mouth tries to find air as I gasp into the back of my hand.
I wince, realizing I really do not like the taste of tequila.
At the same time Denver and I reach for the same lime wedge sitting in the bowl between us and I can’t help but laugh, even though I need to rid my mouth of the rancid taste.
“Ladies first.” He takes his hand away while I snag a piece and jam the thing in my mouth like my life depends on it.
“Thank you,” I stutter ungraciously.
His eyes crinkle a little as the astringent taste of the lime takes hold.
I watch him as he takes a piece and sucks the life out of its flesh.
Holy smacking moly. It seems almost intimate watching him and those beautiful lips, especially with his two friends either side of him, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Brax is already chatting up the woman next to him, and Eric is trying his best to glug down the rest of Denver’s beer to wash away the taste.
“You guys are a real hoot,” I say. “Anyone up for another?”
“Count me out.” Eric screws his nose up.
“I’m in, that’s top shelf.” Brax glances from me to Denver.
“I’ll pass. I need food,” Denver complains, and I couldn’t agree more. I haven’t had a decent break tonight because we’ve been so busy, so drinking on an empty stomach really isn’t the best idea in the world.
“And I better try and keep my job.” I shrug, knowing Lorna won’t care, but I can’t have fun with these guys all night either.
Denver hands me his card to pay for the drinks but I shake my head.
“That round is on me.” Tips have been good, and I do feel a little more awake now.
“No way,” Denver protests, looking horrified.
“Yes, way, don’t argue.”
“At least let me buy you a drink when you finish,” he says. “And another round of beers for us guys.”
“Beer it is.” Brax quickly makes peace with it. I don’t know him very well, but I’m fairly certain he’s just happy to be hanging with his friends, so he doesn’t really care what the poison is.
I reach into my back pocket to pay for the round of shots but Denver won’t hear of it.
“Your money is no good here,” he says.
“Even with my staff discount?” I throw back with a hand on my hip.
“Yep.”
“Wait—staff discount?” Eric finally cottons on. “Listen to the woman, Den.”
Denver shakes his head and gives his friend a withering look. “Women aren’t supposed to pay for the drinks, like ever, bud.”
Eric seems confused—no wonder he’d been single a long time up until recently—so I use that time to yank my card out anyway and pay for the drinks.
“Women’s lib,” I say, drawing my shoulder up to my ear and smiling sweetly at Denver’s narrowed eyes.
“It’s not cool you did that.” His brow creases and I try not to laugh.
“You can still pay for the beers, and the glass of wine I’ll have after I finish.” I bite my bottom lip because he’s still annoyed. Oh, chivalry isn’t dead, how refreshing.
“Deal.”
I glance at the clock. “Ten minutes.”
“Would you like some food?” he asks. “Me and the boys were gonna order pizzas to eat here.”
“Pizza sounds great, thank you. I haven’t had a break for hours, I’m starving.”
“Any preferences?”
“Surprise me.”
“Leave it to me.” I watch him slide off the stool toward the end of the bar where you order food. I mean, he could’ve ordered on the app, but Denver is kinda old school.
I steer my attention away from the boys for a few moments while I serve some waiting customers, but my attention follows Denver who I can still see from where I’m standing.
Man, his ass is mighty fine in those jeans. And like clockwork, female heads turn as he walks through the crowded space.
“He’ll be back before long,” Brax says. My head flicks toward him in surprise.
“W-what?”
Brax grins harder at me getting caught watching Denver and pops a shoulder. A sly smile, followed by a wink as he mouths, ‘It’s alright, sweetheart, your secret is safe with me.’
I stare at Brax with my hand on my hip. “Secret?”
“This is the third week in a row you two can’t take your eyes off each other.”
I laugh haughtily because I know that sentiment is very true—from my end anyway—but I don’t need one of Daryl’s friends pointing that out to me.
It means I’m making it very fucking obvious.
I’ve heard about Eric and Brax here and there from my brother, but I’ve never met them until now.
I can see already, from Brax’s cocky nature, that he doesn’t pull any punches.
“I’ve known D for a long time,” I reply. “It’s not like that.”
He purses his lips, as if deliberating what he’s going to say next. “Well, he hasn’t been able to stop talking about you since you hugged him across the bar three weeks ago.”
His words settle deep into my chest, comforting me somehow.
“That can’t possibly be true.” I’m Daryl’s little sister.
I know Denver has probably had more women than he knows what to do with.
Okay, he may not have a wife and kids, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a girlfriend, or a legion of female followers.
Heck, I sure wouldn’t mind being one of them.
I can’t exactly ask my brother if he’s single.
“Oh, but it is,” Eric chimes in for good measure. “I keep telling him he’s been single too long now.”
And that right there is like I just struck gold. Thanks for the information, Eric.
I also push out the thoughts swirling. rationalizing to myself that Denver is Daryl’s oldest friend, they’re like brothers, and I should not be crushing on him so bad right now, or at all.
It’s bad enough that ever since we saw each other again, Denver is all I’ve been able to think about.
Part of my brain keeps reiterating that he’s just being nice to me because I’m Daryl’s kid sister, the one he saved a lifetime ago, but another part has been imagining what it would be like to be with a guy like Denver. He’s my type in every way.
My thoughts have done more than wondering, and I can’t seem to be able to stop.
Maybe it’s just that I’ve been single this past year and have not dated at all.
Perhaps once I get established in my new digs, I’ll start dating again.
I mean, I love the thought of finding the right guy, of falling in love.
I’m not afraid of it. The last year has been about me and building myself up and trying to figure out what I want to do with my life.
It hasn’t been about dating or finding someone else to fill the void. I needed to find me, and I have.
Cam and I lived together, so it took a lot for me to leave the relationship for good and pack up my things and get out of there. I stayed with Delaney while I was figuring things out, and was just about to get my own place in Massachusetts when the idea came to return to Chicago. It made sense.
I’d flown over to visit Mom and Dad a couple of months out from the move, it was only when I was leaving them that I truly knew my heart was still here. It always has been.
There is just something magical about Chicago.
The thought wasn’t overwhelming or a distant way-off dream. I knew I could make it happen and be closer to my family, even if I was flat out broke.
This last year I’ve had so much time to reflect and grow as a person, and putting Cam behind me was a big part of that, there was no room for doing what I didn’t want to anymore. But I’m ready for the next stage of my life. And for months I’ve known I’m ready to find someone again.
I echo Eric’s comment as I focus back on him.
I keep telling him he’s been single too long now.
“Oh, yeah?” I hide my delight at learning Denver is available. Not that I can or would do anything about that, as the idea is ridiculous, but still a nice fantasy.
“True as I’m sitting here.” Eric pushes his glasses up and shrugs with indifference.
Brax is deadpan when he adds, “Denver is pretty fussy about who he spends time with.”
“Is that right?” I smile.
“Yup. So don’t go getting all weird about Daryl, he’ll understand,” Brax says.
My eyes widen. “It really isn’t like that.”
I barely know these men, but they’re good guys, I can tell.
They just smirk at each other knowingly.
I like the idea that Denver has talked about me to his friends, but now I want to know what he said. Not that I have the guts to ask them, but a tingle runs through me at the idea.
I should leave it alone, but I like it too much.
I feel a little old to be having a crush on someone, no matter how big the spark, but those old feelings were never really gone.
I could just turn my back on some intense feelings I’ve been having in such a short space of time, or I could embrace it and enjoy reconnecting with Denver as a family friend.
Keep him at arm’s length. I’m sure he isn’t having any such thoughts about me the way I am him anyway, even if he has been talking about me. He’s just being nice.
So it’s best I keep that to myself. Daryl would probably have a fit as well.
I glance back over through the restaurant queue where Denver is placing his order.
My eye catches a beautiful, leggy blonde beelining for him.
I watch, slightly horrified, as she slides her arms around his waist. I don’t mean to bristle as a streak of jealousy runs through me.
He knows this woman, enough for her to put her hands on him. I want to look away, but I can’t.
She’s whispering something in his ear and Denver is still like a statue. Someone calls my attention and I inwardly curse, tearing my gaze away. Maybe it’s for the best.
Denver Banks has women throwing themselves at him, it’s no surprise.
I internally chastise myself for even letting my thoughts get carried away. Denver is not interested in me in that way. He walked me home because he’s a nice guy and would do that for anyone he’s been friends with his whole life. Plus, Daryl asked him to look after me.
He’s a fucking firefighter. More than that, he’s in rescue and risks his life every single day. That shit is full on.
Of course he can have anyone he wants looking like that. It’s just how it is.
A guy like him wouldn’t go for me, and not because I don’t look a thing like Barbie over there.
We have history. He’s a friend, my brother’s best friend.
So stopping those thoughts of me putting my hands on him, or him turning and smiling down at me in that jaw dropping way of his, is the right thing to do.
We’re on different spheres. Our paths won’t ever collide like that, and I have to get used to it.
He’s just my brother’s best friend, not a crush.
I don’t look back because I don’t want my mood to plummet, and honestly? If I see that woman with her hands on him again, I might just get my ass thrown out of here for disorderly conduct.