Page 52 of Those Two Words

“Nope, the front of house doesn’t need me helping them lose,” she chuckles, her shoulder bumping mine with the movement. She goes to scoot her stool away, but I grab the padded cushion with one hand and drag her right back, if not closer.

“Patrick,” she whispers, eyes darting around like we’re doing something wrong.

“Don’t do that.” I keep my voice low.

“Do what?”

“Move away from me.”

When she finally turns to look at me, her face is inches from mine. Her glossy lips are so luring and the black stuff around her eyes makes the dark rings in her irises pop.

“I didn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression. I’m confused as well, Pat. One minute you’re pushing me away, the next literally pulling me close.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for last week.” My fingers brush against her hip as I hook my thumb through her belt loop. “Can I drive you home? We can talk then. I’ll drop Quinn off too.”

I’m not even flirting, but fuck she blushes at my words anyway. Like the thought of being in a small space with me again has her heating up. She ducks her head, trying to hide her heated cheeks, but I don’t let her get far.

“Don’t do that either.”With a finger on her chin, I raise her gaze back up to meet mine.

She peers up at me with a questioning look.

“Hide from me, love. There’s no part of you I don’t want to see, especially when your cheeks turn pink like that. Maybe I’m being too forward, but I can’t control myself with her. It’s my favorite color and I’ve missed it so fucking much.” I see the apprehension in her gaze, it’s the same one I saw across my dining table when she opened up about her anxiety. “If we talk or don’t talk tonight, just know that nothing you say will scare me off. I promise you that. I don’t know what we’re doing, what this is. I think you can fee?—”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Quinn jumps in. “I could use the restroom, wanna come with?”

Jo’s mouth drops open, and she looks between Quinn and me. “It’s fine.” I give her a genuine smile, but feel the opposite of fine as she walks away with my sentence left unfinished.

I think you can feel it too.

Maybe her feelings aren’t as strong as mine, but I’ll never know if I don’t make mine clear. Even if for a day, I held her. Kissed her. Felt her. I know the sounds she makes when I sink into her. How that blush on her chest spreads when she climaxes. That she loves when I whisper dirty things against her skin.

There’s so much more I want to learn about her.

Years of biding my time, and all for one night? I curse my younger self for not acting sooner as Booth calls me over for my round of pool.

“I want to thank my team, because without you guys, I wouldn’t be standing here,” Booth shouts from where he’s standing in the middle of the room, a plastic trophy clutched to his chest. From the engraving that reads Booth Sadler 2001’s Player of the Year, he swiped it from Mom’s house and brought it here.

“I’m not sure how we’re related to him,” Graham mumbles beside me.

He showed up a couple of hours ago, much to my surprise. It’s nice to see him out, even if he has only uttered ten words all night.

He’s been glowering from the high-top table he’s been stood at all night, clearly regretting his decision to socialize. I could have sworn it slipped just a fraction when Quinn skipped over to him and introduced herself. Her smiling face was such a contrast to his scowling one. When she laughed, his eyes widened in amazement. I don’t think he looked at anyone or anything during their whole interaction.

“I’m pretty sure he was swapped at birth. Florence has the same energy, so at least we know they’re related,” I comment.

Jo and I haven’t spoken much more tonight, either getting pulled into other conversations or having to play our round of pool. Much to my chagrin, her last game was against Simon, and she lost spectacularly.I’m both bitter about the loss and the fact it was with Simon.

I watched the entire game. My eyes weren’t on what balls she was aiming at, though. No. They were glued to the way she was bent over the pool table in front of me. Her tight ass sculpted to perfection in those black jeans. I was a fucking goner when she wiggled her hips before sinking the white ball and was barely able to hold back my whimper. Everyone found her performance hilarious, but I was close to breaking the skin of my fist with how hard I was biting it.

Booth finishes up his speech and bows dramatically, before people start to say their goodbyes and head out. Lenny left about an hour ago and the only people remaining now are from the restaurant. I’ll be the last one to leave, to make sure everything is clean and locked up safely.

Quinn waves goodbye to everyone, stumbling slightly on her feet, but I don’t see Jo anywhere. Has she left already? Why didn’t she say goodbye? Maybe she’s outside waiting for Quinn?

I’m about to go check on Quinn, partly for my own selfish reasons, when Graham abruptly stands from his stool beside me. He downs the rest of his club soda, slams the glass on the table, and slaps me on the shoulder.

“I’m headed out.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond and heads to the front door that Quinn has just disappeared through.

“Okay, bye,” I call sarcastically to no one at all, and finish my glass of water.

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