Page 75 of Wild Side
“Time’s up,” Doris calls out. “Please drop your answers in the pitcher in front of me, and make sure your team’s name is on there, or I’m not giving you any points. This isn’t kindergarten. You should all know how to identify yourselves.”
My lips twitch at the older woman.
West just looks amused. “God. Doris is such a legend.”
I nod my agreement as I watch a person from each table stand up and head toward the bar with their answer in hand. And I now recognize the fourth team member who was sitting with Tabitha.
“Who’s that?” Ford asks, tipping his chin toward her as she makes her way to the front, wearing a long flowy skirt and bracelets on each arm.
“That’s my yoga instructor. Gwen.”
“You doyoga?” West turns and looks at me like I just said I can walk on water.
I shrug. “Yeah. I like it.”
“Like for inner peace and shit?”
I scoff. “Something like that.”
“You should take Bash with you. He looks like he needs some inner peace.”
I glance over at Bash, expecting his usual level of resting bitch face. He’s grumpy, sure, but it’s part of his charm at this point. I like to think of him as honest and direct. He says what he means and means what he says, but he’s also reliable. He helped me out with the alarm system and is always forthcoming with bowling tips.
Deep down, Bash is a pretty nice guy.
Which is why it’s hard to make heads or tails of his expression right now. Cut from stone and devoid of all color.
I nudge him. “You okay?”
One sharp nod.
Doris starts going over the answers, but Bash’s eyes stay trained on Gwen. He’s tracking her every movement across the floor, jaw flexing when she slides back into the booth next to Tabitha.
“Okay, enough loitering,” Ford says. “Let’s go find a table.” He strides away with authority.
“Near the girls!” West calls as he heads after him.
Bash and I follow, and where I feel a stirring of excitement at the prospect of seeing Tabitha, Bash looks like he’s heading to a funeral.
When the women realize we’re here and look up, my eyes go to Tabitha. I don’t know what to expect after earlier.
But the blinding smile she hits me with is not it.
It stops me in my tracks.
All my wishing I could make her happy, and here she is. Looking at me.Happy.
Here she is, getting up and heading straight for me.
Here she is, greeting me with a bashful, “Hi,” before pushing up on her tiptoes and pulling my face down to hers.
Her plush lips stay on mine for just a beat or two longer than is appropriate for the setting, and her tongue dances across mine, just like mine had at the grocery store.
And fuck, it feels good.
My pulse races as I sigh against her mouth. “What was that for?” I whisper, eyes bounding between hers.
“That was…” She licks her lips, gaze drifting to my mouth.
