Page 5 of The Oath We Take

But Ember sees past all of it. She has a rare gift for seeing people exactly as they are.

And sometimes I think she can see right through me.

I turn to face Catfish. “Can’t believe we’re wasting a perfectly good Saturday night when we could be sitting in front of a fire out on the ranch somewhere. We’re wasting summer sitting indoors on a night like tonight.”

Some people argue the end of July is too hot and humid to be camping, but I can’t think of any time better.

Catfish throws back some of his beer, then tips his head toward two girls dressed in denim shorts and cowboy boots looking our way. “Maybe. But looks like those two are just dying to come over here and thank you personally for getting rid of that asshole. Unless you like watching cattle out in those fields more, in which case, go fill your boots.”

“Dude. Don’t joke about fucking animals.”

Catfish laughs. “Fuck, no. That wasn’t what I meant. But why didyourhead go there?”

I shake my head. “If I wanted to get laid, I could have stopped by the clubhouse on the way out to camp.”

“Brother,” Catfish says, “you’re thirty and act like a fifty-year-old man. Look around. See all the fresh flowers there are in here to pick.”

I look around, and the sad truth hits me.

None of them are Ember.

“Listen,” Catfish says, “I’m going to check that those girls are okay.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Check they’re okay? Is that what we’re calling making a move these days.”

“Fuck you. Just get us a drink.”

As he walks away, I turn to face the bar, searching for a bartender to serve me. But it’s Ember who is marching toward me, no sign of that pretty smile of hers. Her plump lips are pursed, and her chest heaves. Don’t need to be a psychologist to figure out she’s real mad at me.

One day, I’m certain I won’t get that same kick deep in my gut every time her eyes catch mine. But that isn’t today. Even in the reflection of the pink and blue neon signs over the bar, she’s hands down the most beautiful woman in here.

“What the hell are you doing causing trouble in my bar?”

I try to avoid staring at her tits, but it’s a fucking task to keep my eyes up. “Don’t start, Em.”

“The last thing I need is people thinking they’re not safe if they come in here. What did he do, look at you the wrong way? Make some joke about cowboys?”

That’s the other thing with Ember. On the rare occasion she comes to talk to me, I have to busy myself doing something else just so I don’t stare at those thick pink lips of hers as she talks. Or how white her teeth are, or the cute little chip on her front tooth she hates but never gets around to fixing.

So, I play with the edge of the beer mat to give the illusion of only giving her part of my attention.

“That guy was harassing that group of girls, the one Catfish is checking in on. If you had better security in here, they would have seen it. Instead, you have those useless sacks on the door who don’t give a shit. So, if you want to worry about people feeling safe, you should be worrying about that.”

“Oh,” she says, her shoulders dropping. “Sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

“Yeah, well, for the record, I didn’t come here for a fight, just a drink.”

“Thanks for dealing with that.” Her words are brisk. “You want another?”

I nod, and her fingers brush mine as she takes the empty bottle out of my hand. They’re long and narrow, and she keeps the nails short and square. Wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around my cock.

Ugh, it’s ridiculous how easily I get a boner around Ember Deeks. Thank fuck I’m seated on a stool, facing the bar, and she can’t see.

“Please. But make sure it’s cold. The last one was a little warm.”

Can’t say exactly what it is, but it feels a lot like her light just flickered, and I feel like a dick. “I’ll check it myself.”

I sigh as she walks away from me. I never mean to be an asshole to her, but somehow, it’s become the most convenient way to separate what I want us to be and what we are.

---