Page 11 of Bourbon & Bonfires

After a few steps I think it’s better to call for a cab instead of driving home. No need to take that gamble, but first I need to hit the head. I walk toward the hallway leading to the back office and restrooms and note the long line for the women’s room. It seems kind of dickish to walk past the line of ladies to the men’s room without a line at all.

When I’ve finished in the restroom, I turn the corner and walk smack into the tiniest little thing I’ve seen. And perhaps, the prettiest. My eyes slowly make their way from a pair of golden shoes up a pair of tan and toned legs that may easily drop any man to his knees before landing on a tight-fitting dress. I swallow, trying to help my now dry mouth as I take in a perfect pair of tits before quickly diverting my eyes to a long neck, dark hair brushing the tops of her shoulders, settling on the face of an angel. Beautiful bee-stung lips, skin smooth as silk with a hint of blush, probably a result of my perusal, and dark brown eyes that are wide as saucers.

“I’m so sorry,” the beauty says, and the moment she speaks, I tilt my head in recognition. I’ve met her before. Hell, I hope she isn’t someone Owen brought home once. “I didn’t see you, which is dumb because you’re huge, and it’s not like you snuck up on me ... ah shit. Sorry. I’m rambling. I needed to get out of there,” she says, motioning toward the main part of the bar.

“Hey, you’re fine. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you when I ran into you?” I ask, using the question as an excuse to run my hands down her arms. Softest skin ever.

“What? Oh, uh ... nope, right as rain.”

“I know you,” I say, to which she shakes her head.

“Yes, you’re Taylor’s sister. We met at Ben and Piper’s wedding.”

“No, I wasn’t there very long. Only a few minutes. You must have met someone else,” she says, looking around nervously. It’s then I realize I’m very much in her personal space and take a step back.

“I’m sorry, I feel bad, but I don’t remember your name.” I wait for a few beats for her to give me her name, but she doesn’t. “Your brother told me you were heading down for the big party. I was actually just heading home; this scene is a little too much for me tonight.”

“This is not my scene at all,” she says, laughing. “Sorry, I’m Addy.”

“Addison, I remember now.”

“Addy, please. Only my parents and my ex-husband ever called me Addison.”

“Addy, it is. Look, I know I said I was leaving, but if you’d like company, I’d love to buy you a drink. What do you say?” In my head I’m begging her to say yes. If I thought she was beautiful at the wedding, now, standing here before me in this hot as fuck dress, she’s breathtaking. A blush colors her cheeks, and I know she’s embarrassed by my offer.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m just going to say hi to my brother and go home. I’d much rather be in sweats watching the ball drop on my television.”

“Come on, you came all this way, and if you don’t mind me saying so, you look beautiful. No need to waste that on a pair of sweats. We’ll get a table over there,” I say, pointing to the far corner of the bar that seems to be less crowded than the areas closer to the bar and dance floor. “One drink and we’ll call it a night. What do you say?”

“Really, I hate to impose.”

“Addy, it’s the furthest thing from an imposition. Come on.” I offer my hand to her and for a count of three she hesitates but ultimately places her tiny hand in my own, and as I walk toward a table littered with bottles in the corner, I realize it’s been a long time, if ever, that something fit so perfectly in my hand.

“I still cannot believe you’re a bourbon drinker.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

Addison and I have been sitting in this spot for at least an hour, and after she relaxed we’ve had a good time. It’s much quieter here, which is probably why it’s more vacant than the rest of the bar. We’ve kept our conversation pretty surface, not touching on anything personal, but it’s still better than sitting alone. I know she’s asked me to call her Addy but in my head, she’s only Addison. Addy is for a young girl, and Addison is far from a girl. She’s a woman. A beautiful and funny woman. And a woman who drinks bourbon.

“Whoa there,” I shout in mock horror as my hands rise to defend myself. “I would never insult you like that.” We both start laughing as the waitress drops off another round of drinks. “I figured you for more of a wine drinker.”

“Oh, I love a good glass of wine, don’t get me wrong. But, there’s something about a smooth bourbon that comforts me. My ex would mock me because I’d spend more on my bourbon than I would on hair products. What can I say? I’m a bargain shopper unless it comes to my own happy hour.”

“Well, I say whatever makes you happy. Your ex sounds like kind of an ass.”

“You have no idea. But I don’t want to talk about him.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, people watching. A couple next to us is arguing while the others at their table exchange awkward looks. Across the room, people are dancing and a few are toasting each other in celebration. I look over to Addison and see her singing along to the song playing, and on instinct, I lean over and whisper in her ear.

“How about a dance, beautiful?”

Looking at me with those wide as saucer eyes, she shakes her head no. I tilt my head in response and smile. Oh yeah, we’re dancing. Just as Thomas Rhett finishes singing about a vacation, the song switches to a Sam Hunt song, and if I know one thing, it’s that the ladies love Sam Hunt.

I stand and extend my hand to Addison who hesitates. I reach across her and grab the glass from her hand before turning to the table next to us. An older couple is cuddled up next to each other. I’ve seen the man at the hardware store, and I’m pretty sure the woman is a woman in my mom’s Bible study class.

“Excuse me, I’d love to dance with this beautiful lady but don’t want to leave our drinks unattended, would you mind watching them?”

Once the man agrees, I turn back to Addison and extend my hand again. This time, she stands and turns to the couple. The woman holds her hand out, and Addison places her small purse in her hand before taking my hand and letting me walk her to the dance floor.

---