Chapter 9 No Chaser #2
“Oh.” She shook her head and made a face. “Does it have real whiskey in it?” Her voice lowered as she asked, like the question was an inappropriate one. As if she hadn’t been chugging the very same liquor all night.
“Moonshine,” he confirmed, matching her tone with an impish smile. He grabbed a couple of bowls and returned to the counter, directing her to follow. “Come here.”
Eve joined him in the kitchen, where he was already digging into a pint-sized plastic container of vanilla ice cream with chocolate and whiskey ripples throughout.
“Is this legal?” she asked.
Jamie laughed. “Of course it’s legal. It’s not like we’re makin’ it.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry I don’t know the alcohol laws.”
“Here.” He offered her a small scoop of the banana pudding first, figuring she’d like it less than the other.
He watched as she relished in the rich, creamy banana and vanilla wafer flavors, and she let out a gentle moan before taking the spoon from him to lick clean. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s really good.”
“I know.” He grabbed a spoon for himself before offering her the whiskey ribbon. “They’re all good there, but these are my favorites.”
He waited for Eve’s reaction as she sampled the second one, but he couldn’t help fixating on her lips as she licked remnants of ivory cream from them.
She had the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen.
Lips for days, with a Cupid’s bow that rivaled Rihanna’s.
It was a wonder he hadn’t spent the entire evening just staring at her mouth.
And now that he had the idea, he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t.
“That one’s good, too,” Eve said. She slid into the space beside him to steal another spoonful. “Mmm.”
“You’re gonna have to stop making that sound if you don’t wanna call this a date.”
She giggled loudly, her smile lighting up the room as she glanced at him.
“Sorry.” Eve was beautiful like this. Not that she wasn’t gorgeous every other way, but her entire face managed to smile when she was happy, and it was enchanting.
She was enchanting when she dropped that guard even a little bit. Like a flower trying to blossom.
Jamie went for another spoon of ice cream, feeling Eve’s gaze on him as he moved.
He liked the idea that she was perhaps as intrigued by him as he was by her, so he didn’t shy away.
He faced her as he devoured another dollop of the dessert, their eyes locking as he slowly pulled the spoon from his mouth.
They stared at each other for far too long, and he knew it.
He was internally yelling at himself, Look away , but he couldn’t.
Like some magnetic pull between them, forcing him to acknowledge his attraction to this woman.
He licked his lips, his breathing labored as his mind went haywire. His stare danced downward to her collarbone, mesmerized by her dark skin paired with the most gorgeous bone structure and decorated by a dainty gold chain—like dunes in a desert beneath the sun.
But before he knew it, before his imagination could take him too far into a fantasy, a loud clunk knocked him from his trance, his spoon having fallen out of his hand.
Thankful for the interruption, Jamie picked it up and went to a separate corner, his common sense telling him that now wasn’t the time. And that was assuming there ever would be one. But it surely wasn’t when she was clearly intoxicated and he was just barely hanging on to his own faculties.
Eve also seemed relieved by the interruption, as she averted his gaze and buried herself in the banana pudding. “I’m gonna eat this whole tub, okay?”
Jamie chuckled, believing her. “You mind if I put on some music?” he asked, taking another helping for himself before sauntering to his stereo.
She sent a coy smile his way. “You gonna play me some Outkast?”
“I might,” he shot back.
In reality, he went with what was already sitting in the CD player, and within a few seconds, Ella Fitzgerald’s silky voice filled the open room. Jamie and Eve took that as an opportunity to let the music be the conversation, taking their ice cream and retiring to the couch, side by side.
The minutes progressed into an hour, then close to two, as they lost track of the time.
Ice cream was finished, more drinks consumed, mostly by Eve, and evening turned to night.
They spoke of favorite singers and albums—Jamie eventually landing on Prince after much internal debate, while Eve decided on Nina Simone.
They shared similar opinions about TV shows; Eve asked him about several plays that he knew only by name.
They argued, amicably, about “SpottieOttieDopaliscious” being Outkast’s best work. But mainly, the quiet prevailed.
Jamie wasn’t surprised when he looked over to find his neighbor curled up against the arm of the couch, fast asleep. Something in him was glad she felt relaxed enough, or maybe just drunk enough, to do so. Then again, maybe her willingness to be drunk with him was a sign of comfort itself.
He figured it unlikely she’d wake up anytime soon, so like any good host, he made sure his home was hers.
Gently and deftly, he lifted Eve from the couch and carried her to his bed.
He untied her boots, leaving them neatly beneath the bed’s platform, then found the hoodie she came in with and covered her with it, ensuring she had all of her things close in case she did wake in the middle of the night and want to leave.
He gazed at her for just a moment, her serene expression giving him hope that she had a good evening, that she’d found some respite from what anguished her.
Then he turned off the bedside lamp, leaving her to rest.