Page 8 of Shadows in Bloom

“Me either,” Wayne mutters as he turns away, making himself busy until someone calls him over. It’s a voice I recognize. My breath stilts in my lungs as I glance over, finding Jamie leaning over the counter, long, blonde hair tossed over her right shoulder as she mumbles something to Wayne.

I can’t believe after years of not seeing her, she’s just here again.

It’s almost like she never left. But she did. And everything’s different now.

It was fun in the beginning—when Jamie and I first met at Gin River, the bar I used to work at in Le Grande, which was only meant to be a pit stop in my unknown journey since leaving home. But I quite liked it there. Until…

Until… him.

I shiver. Just thinking about him makes me sick to my stomach. My eyes scan the room again of their own volition, and I can only breathe again when his painfully familiar face isn’t anywhere to be seen.

And it won’t because I disappeared. And he didn’t follow.

But Jamie’s here… and she was there. And so was he, so he could’ve…

No. I shake my head vehemently, forcing myself to find the reason. I left after Jamie. She said she’s been here since she left almost two years ago. It’s fine.

I’m fine.

Breathing through the tightness coiling in my gut, I walk up beside Wayne, and I don’t even have to force a smile when Jamie looks up and clocks me. Her bloodshot, hazel eyes widen, and she blinks owlishly. Her pale, pink lips part on an exhale, and I swear I can taste the beer on her tongue.

“F-Fiona?” She stumbles over my name, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s surprised or just hammered.

Either way, I’m enamored. And amused.

“Jamie.” I wink just to watch her flush. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyelids flutter on a blink. “Was looking for you. But then you weren’t. Annndd beer sounded good. Hmm. Then, I was sad?—”

“Then, she decided to chase every beer with a shot of Jameson,” Wayne finishes for her, probably tired of her drunken drawl. I find it charming.

“Yep.” Jamie pops the P, heavy eyelids drooping.

“Jameson, really?” I confirm with an arched brow. Wayne shrugs as he pours the shot and hands it to Jamie, along with another bottle of Budweiser.

She tosses it back, eyes rolling as she rights her head on her shoulders. The glass clanks against the bar top before tipping over with a dull thunk. Wayne swipes it up before walking away to tend to someone else waving their hand.

I’m quiet as I step closer, taking in every inch of this version of Jamie I haven’t met before. Sure, she would drink when she came into my old place of work but never to excess. Usually not even enough to get a buzz.

She lifts her head, then smiles as she drops it into her palm. “You’re so pretty.” She squints hard. “You make me stupid.”

I giggle, chest contracting as it washes through me. “And you’re drunk.”

Jamie nods slowly—surely—eyes wide with feigned sobriety. “Yes,” she slurs. And then, she frowns as she looks at me. Over me. Another blink. “I should go home. Gonna—yeah, go home.” She pushes back, and I reach out, gripping her forearm before I can even think about what I’m doing.

We’re both staring down at my tattooed fingers wrapped around her tanned, naked forearm. Feeling her skin against mine reminds me of her arm wrapped around me mere days ago. Her breath against my face and her soft but inquisitive words.

She’s a fucking detective…

This is such a bad idea.

“You’re not driving.”

Jamie snorts. “No shit.”

My fingers curl a bit tighter, making her breath hitch, and fuck me if that doesn’t make my blood hot. “Then, where are you going?”

“There’re cabs, yanno.”

---