Page 26 of Riding the High

“A literal play by play of you and Miss Riverbend County last weekend at that whiskey bar?” She interrupts my thoughts with a little smirk.

I laugh a little too loudly. Wade smacks the back of my head.

I try to make it through the rest of the show without watching Ginger, but I can’t. She’s mesmerizing. The way her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths; how her pulse hammers away in her throat; the feel of her leg against mine as she shifts in her seat. I should be watching the stage, but this view? The one where I get to watch Ginger’s every expression, every reaction, is downright fucking captivating. For no reason I can understand, I’m finding it hard to ignore the feelings I haven’t let myself feel in a long damn time. Suddenly, it’s Ginger I don’t want to miss one second of.

Fucking Christ, Cole.

I need to get my head straight. Actually, I need a workout. And my fist, since no woman in this town, other than the one I shouldn’t want, seems to be doing it for me right now.

The group is ready to party by the time we’re done. The atmosphere is charged and Chris buys all the girls, except Ivy, another drink from the bar. I clench my fists involuntarily when Ginger happily accepts hers.

Does it make me see red when Chris leans down to whisper something to Ginger I can’t hear? Fucking right it does. And that is exactly why, after cruising the strip and having to watch Ginger command every red-blooded male’s attention, I decide to bow out early and head to the gym instead.

“Getting old, Cole? Can’t hack it with us young’uns?” Ginger challenges. Normally I would give her some witty retort, but the truth is it’sherI can’t hack it with. Not tonight. I don’t trustmyself. And I like her too much to change anything between us.

“Must be it,” I reply with a rueful smile and a nod.

After saying my goodbyes and heading back to my room to get changed, I’m in the hotel gym. The facility is state-of-the-art and has everything I need to push Ginger and her perfect curves from my mind. By the time I’ve sat in the steam room, then moved to a cold shower, I feel better. Refreshed. Thinking clearly. Thinking like myself.

This isGinger.

We can barely go a day without rattling each other. Not to mention, we’re totally different. I need order and stability. I do the same things every day. I have a calendar on my fridge that maps out laundry days and bath nights. But Ginger, Christ, she’s the opposite of routine. She is unpredictable. She’s sarcastic and feisty and she drives me fucking crazy.

But as I’m making my way back through the lobby and Isee her sitting at the bar with a sort of sad look on her face and deep into what I’d bet my left kidney is a chocolate martini, notone, not even aglimmerof one of those fucking reasons stops me from making my way right over to her and dropping onto the stool beside her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ginger

WARDEN

I trust you’re making smart choices?

I’ve only been arrested once. I’ll do my best to cover my face when the news team following me catches up.

WARDEN

I don’t find this kind of humor suiting, Ginger.

Who says I’m kidding?

WARDEN

Goodnight. Remember the family.

How could I forget?

I set my phone down and eye the old-world European allure of the Café Americano bar.

Should I mess with my father? Probably not; he’ll only have a million questions later. Should I have another martini? Again, probably not, but I don’t hesitate when the bartender asks.

Instead, I nod a firm yes. I’ve definitely had too much todrink because I’ve started to feel sorry for myself. Nash and CeCe made their escape to God knows where because they couldn’t keep their hands off of one another. Wade and Ivy left after the show, tired and ready for ice cream. Liv has gone with Cory and Anna to the Venetian. I could have joined them, but I wasn’t feeling it, telling them all I’d had enough for the night.

I just can’t get Cole out of my mind. Everywhere I look, people are finding their someone. But not this girl.This girleats cereal for dinner in her underwear and is trying to figure out how to attract a man that might actually want to spend more than one night with her.

I take another big gulp of my martini and rest my heels on the weathered rung of the wooden stool beneath me.

If I’m being honest, I haven’t been looking hard enough for my someone. Because if I find a man who wants more from me, that means I have to give up whatever it is that Cole and I have been doing, this odd friendship that’s grown deeper over the last two years when I was the only one he felt he could turn to about the divorce. No judgment.

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