Page 7 of Returning Your Love
The bar’s door pushed inward, but rather than focusing on the means of escape into the darkness beyond, my gaze landed on the redhead who’d once upon a time been like a sister to me.
Shelly Henderson.
And behind her?
Jesus.
All thoughts of football and a bleak future faded to the back of my mind. I swallowed hard, that pulse in my head beginningto pound with every throbbing punch of my heart against my breastbone.
Tall, dark, and handsome. Haunted hazel eyes I wanted on me so I could drown in them like a lovesick puppy. Wide shoulders I lusted to grasp while he pounded into me. Trim hips my legs had always ached to wrap around.
Shelly grasped Chaz’s hand, dragging him in behind her when he seemed to hesitate, her head swiveling as though searching for?—
Her shriek and shimmy let me know she’d spotted me, but I couldn’t tear my focus off her husband’s face.
As though feeling my stare, he turned his head my way.
Our gazes snagged hold.
I fucking grinned like a goddamn dork when I’d expected to curl in on myself from the pain of having to see him again.
As though of the same mind, we stalked forward, brushing past people, and at the last second before we crashed into each other, I remembered the woman still clinging to his hand who he’d taken along for the short walk across the bar.
I wrapped my arms around thembothand hugged them tight.
But my nose angled toward Chaz, and I breathed him in as deep as I could. Even smelling as though he’d recently scrubbed himself with soap, the underlying smell of the mechanic shop he’d worked in since high school clung to him.
And I fucking loved it. Longed to bathe in his scent. Lick him from head to fucking toe?—
Shit.
I stepped away before popping a boner, having to do so forcefully, considering how Shelly had attached herself to my side.
“MyGod, Jamie!” She laughed and finally released me to clasp my cheeks. “It’s so good to finally have you back homewhere you belong!” Her breath reeked of whiskey as she brushed a kiss over my cheek, leaving a smear of lip gloss.
“Thanks, Shell. Good to see you too.” I rubbed my face across my shoulder real quick to rid myself of the stickiness.
She grabbed hold of Chaz and leaned into him, caressing his arm with her usual possessive attention. I’d have given my left nut to be able to do the same to him.
I wanted to run my fingers through Chaz’s damp hair, attempt to tame the black waves he’d never given much effort into controlling. Same as always, he wore grungy jeans and a T-shirt that had seen better days, and while his smile and hazel eyes appeared haggard, he was still hot as fuck.
“Next round’s on me!” Coach hollered, and Shelly let out a, “Woohoo!” before releasing Chaz like he had the plague or something. She headed to the bar without sharing another word. No “sorry about your knee,” no begging for gossip from the NFL, no prying into my love life like she used to do. She hadn’t even asked how I was doing.
Chaz and I were left facing each other in the middle of the packed bar, and I couldn’t find it in myself to care his wife had abandoned us for alcohol. I hadn’t gotten him to myself since those brief moments before we’d exited a side door near the church stage where he and Shelly would vow to honor and cherish each other until death parted them.
Should have been me.
“Missed you, brother,” he said, his voice low and gaze a little unsure, causing my throat to tighten.
“Same.”
Fuck it.
I yanked Chaz into my arms and squeezed the living hell out of him. The tension in my guts eased, and I exhaled all of my pent-up agitation at having to people that night. I could have lingered in being pressed against Chaz for hours, but only afew quick seconds passed before he stepped away, clearing his throat. He glanced over at his wife, who held a shot of amber liquid into the air.
She yelled out some nonsense about getting her party on before slamming the drink back. Her laughter and hip bump against the woman beside her I didn’t recognize made it clear she still loved getting buzzed, same as when we’d been teens. The girl had abandonment issues thanks to a father who’d fled the scene with another woman and a mother who’d been ill and pretty much unable to parent for close to a decade. Who wouldn’t want to drown their sorrows in her shoes?
“How are you doing, Jamie? Because that there’s a forced smile if ever I’ve seen one.” Chaz studied me like a bug beneath a microscope.
