Page 78 of Forgotten Pieces

I rub the back of my neck trying to figure it out as I go along. “I need to talk to her.”

“I meant about Shelley.”

I shrug. “Don’t know, man. I don’t know.”

We end our conversation there. Mac is smart enough to know not to keep pushing. He spends another hour at the bar before heading home. I stay and try to find the courage to talk to Tacoma. She has done a great job of ignoring me all night. But this is one conversation that has to happen. I need to know what she is feeling. If this is worth my time and her time.

The band finally finishes and most of the crowd leaves. I hear Trace ask Tacoma to grab more bottles of alcohol to restock the bar before she leaves for the night. I figure now is as good a time as any to corner her into talking.

I walk into the hall that leads to the storage closet and Trace’s office. Her back is to me as she pulls bottles off shelves. I don’t want to startle her and have her drop any so I wait until she turns around to talk.

“Jesus, fuck, you scared me,” she says as she turns around. “You need to at least make some sort of noise when you come up behind someone instead of acting all special ops creeper.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What do you want Ryder?”

I lean against the wall. “I just want to talk.”

“Well, go find someone at the bar to talk to. I want to put these away so I can go home.”

“We need to talk about the other night.”

She balances a few bottles in her arms as she shuts the storage door with her foot. “No, we don’t. It was a mistake. That’s it. End of story.”

She tries to pass me but I block her way. “No, it wasn’t.”

She sighs. “Maybe not for you, but it was for me.”

I move closer to her, needing to feel her energy. I can tell by the way she is avoiding my eyes and the slight flush to her cheeks my presence is affecting her. “If it was a mistake then why are you nervous now?”

“I’m not,” she says with a slight quiver in her voice.

“I’m not buying it.”

She tries to push around me again but I stop her and lay a hand on her cheek. Immediately goosebumps flood her skin and I know I am right. I know she still wants me.

“Can I just put these away so I can go home, Ry?” she pleads.

I look into her eyes and see the desperation. This is hard for her, to be around me. Not because she doesn’t want me but because she desperately does and is trying to fight it. Luckily, I have a plan. I move to the side and let her pass. An audible sigh comes out of her mouth as she scurries back to the bar.

I make my way back to my seat and wave down Trace and order another double. If she doesn’t want to talk to me here. I’ll make her talk to me somewhere else. And I know she would never let me drive home drunk. We’ve been in this same situation before. So even though I might hate myself tomorrow morning, I throw back a few shots in the hope that she will offer to drive me home.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tacoma

He did not just do what I think he did. The idiot drank five shots in a row. Five! He can’t drive after that. And he also knew I was about to get off work. He fucking got drunk on purpose because he knew I would drive him home.

My mind flits back to the time I had to drive him home drunk before. And it wasn’t on purpose. It was because he got shitfaced and tried to beat up his stepdad.

He was torn apart that day.

And I was there for him.

That was the night I knew I was in love with him.

And to this day, I think I still am.

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