Page 32 of The Hot New Bartender in Town

“Before I have to leave,” she says. “Before we have to go back to being... strangers.”

“Not strangers,” I say. “Family.”

Tish closes her eyes, pinching them. “Yeah,” she murmurs, swallowing hard. “Family.”

I exhale, hoping to banish the thought completely, but it lingers beneath the surface, no matter how hard I try to forget.

This was meant to get each other out of our systems, but I’m afraid we just made it so much worse.

“Riley.”

I glance at her lying next to me. “Yeah?” I ask.

Tish pivots onto her side, facing me. “This really sucks.”

I say nothing, unable to disagree or even offer any words of comfort. Because it does. This sucks. It really, really sucks.

I kiss her instead. I roll my thumb along her cheekbone and her hand touches mine.

I kiss her repeatedly until words themselves become meaningless. Until my cock grows hard and her body quivers with need and we immerse ourselves in one another again. Allthe while, we tell ourselves this will be the last time. This will be the time that wrings the last aching urge out of our bodies for good.

But it’s all a lie. I know it. She knows it.

No time will ever be good enough to be the last. No kiss will ever be satisfying enough to say goodbye.

Morning comes in a blur; the night not nearly long enough. I awaken as I slept, with her wrapped in my arms, our legs entwined beneath the covers.

I lean in close to kiss Tish on the cheek. As I do, her lips curl slightly. Still tempted, I move a hand along her body and cup her breast beneath the sheet. She hums softly, showing no sign that my touch is unwelcome, as she gently angles her head toward mine.

We kiss once, twice, needing more. So much more.

“Good morning,” she whispers, our lips touching.

“Good morning,” I reply, smiling.

A knock in the darkness and we stiffen.

There’s someone at the door.

“What time is it?” Tish asks.

Truthfully, it feels like no time has passed at all since the last time she asked. As I break away from her to check my phone again, another knock echoes throughout the apartment. This one harder, more urgent.

“Just before eight,” I answer, very annoyed by the interruption. “It might be Jake. He still has some shit stored down here.”

“Hey, Junior!” A voice calls out from beyond the door. “You in there?”

There’s only one prick in all the world who refers to me asJunior.

Tish sits up straight. “Oh, fuck,” she says.

11

RILEY

I’m off the bed in a flash. Before I can even flick on the light, Tish is already up and reaching for her clothes, too.

“Fuck, fuck!” she says.

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