Page 52 of All Your Firsts Without Me

I run my sweaty palms over my jeans.

Why hasn’t she come to me?

My song starts to play on the jukebox and then a hand gently lands on my shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” a sexy voice murmurs, so close I can feel her warm breath on my cheek.

I spin on my stool to face her. She tucks a curl behind her ear.

“Um, I’m supposed to find the most attractive man in the bar tonight and ask him to dance with me to my favorite song.”

My heart sighs. Thank god.

I bite my lip, pointing to some old bloke sitting on the other side of the bar. “How about him?” I suggest.

She looks over her shoulder at him before returning those amazing eyes back to me. “Oh, he is handsome, but I really had my heart set on not only the handsomest man in this bar but in the whole city, state, country, maybe the entire world.” She lifts an eyebrow at me in challenge.

I tug on my jacket. “Well, now that you put it that way.” I stand, tipping my elbow to her. She curls her fingers around my arm, and I lead her out to the dance floor.

When I pull her close, her breath hitches. She wraps her arms around me, laying her head on my chest. When I glance down, I see she has closed her eyes. I squeeze her tight. She smiles. “This is nice.”

“Very nice,” I reply quietly, brushing my lips over the top of her head.

She stares up at me as we dance. “You were here that day I met David for a drink,” she says.

I blink down at her. I didn’t think she would recognize me. She didn’t even look at me once that day. “Yeah,” I say on a sigh. “I didn’t think you saw me.”

“I didn’t, but I remember your voice. I was up at the bar paying for our drinks and you told me that someone was waiting for a dance.”

I rub circles over the small of her back as we sway back and forth. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Don’t be.”

When the song finishes, she grabs my hand and walks us back towards the bar. She lays several hundred-dollar bills on the counter, fanning them out. “Drinks are on me tonight for as long as this lasts.” And then she drags me outside.

“What are we doing?” I ask nervously.

“I need your help with something.”

“Sure, anything. What is it?”

“I need you to pick up a bottle of wine and your guitar. Meet me at the beach in front of my house before the sun sets.”

“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll see you in a bit.” She gives me hug before disappearing into her car.

As I drive to my house to grab my guitar and a bottle of wine, I wonder what the hell she is up to. I know David wanted us to meet at the White Glass because he wanted her to meet a guy in anaturalway. His words not mine. I think he felt bad about the way their relationship started. He used to say their love was born out of tragedy. But isn’t that true for a lot of people?

Neither of us predicted I would meet her sooner. Several times, in several different settings. I don’t think how love begins is of any real consequence. It’s how long it lasts. I know her love for him will last forever. I can only hope that her and I have a chance at something close to that.

When I pull up to her place, I see she and Lucky are already down at the beach. I grab my things and head down to meet them. “What do we have here?” I ask, taking in the blanket lying on the ground. A giant picnic basket holds one corner down, along with several pillows. She has a fire pit made up a few feet away, waiting to be lit.

She throws Lucky’s ball one last time and then sits down beside me. “I know he wanted us to go to the White Glass tonight and I wasn’t about to break that promise, but it seemed kind of silly since we’ve already met.”

I take my jacket off and lay it beside us. “You said you needed me to help you with something. What is it?”

April inhales deeply and slowly lets it out. “I don’t need your help yet,” she says as she busies herself pulling out two containers of pasta salad, handing me one.

I take a bite, groaning at how good it is. “This is so good.”

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