Page 167 of The Games We Play
“Seriously. I’ll take the bar, but I want you to stay in Faircloud.”
Lizzie immediately shook her head. “I can’t. My lease is up, and I don’t have a reason to sign another because who knows how long it will be.”
“Then move upstairs.”
Her laugh burst out. “What? I cannot live in a one-bedroom withyou. We barely survive an hour together.”
“Notwithme,” I said, exasperated. “I won’t be there much longer.”
She blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I’m looking for houses,” I said with a shrug. “It’s time I grow up.”
Lizzie tilted her head, assessing me. A slow smirk curled her lips as realization dawned.
“This have something to do with the girl upstairs?”
“It’sbecauseof her,” I said simply.
She hummed, nodding slowly. “I’m happy for you.”
I reached behind the bar and grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter I kept stashed there. I lit one and took a long drag. Lizzie opened her mouth to protest, but I beat her to it.
“Hey,” I said, tapping the stack of papers. “This is mine now. You can’t say shit.”
She snorted. “Not yet.”
I exhaled slowly and looked her in the eye. “I really want you to stay, Lizzie. I want you in my life. I know things weren’t always civil between us, but… I want to change that.”
Her smile started small, but then it grew—bright, genuine, the kind I’d never seen from her before.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Lizzie slid off the barstool, reaching for her tote. “I won’t keep you,” she said softly. “Once you’ve signed the papers, let me know.”
We exchanged a small smile, and I gave her a firm nod—the kind that said more than words ever could. Without another word, she turned and walked out the front door, leaving behind a stillness that settled deep into the room.
I sat there in the quiet, letting it wash over me.
Everything was changing.
And for the first time in a long damn while, it felt good.
I had the bar. I had my woman upstairs. I had a future that looked more like a dream than anything I ever thought I deserved.
The soft patter of bare feet came down the stairs, pulling my gaze upward. Penny stood at the base, wrapped in my oversized shirt, her hair tousled and wild from bed. Her eyes searched the room, cautious and curious.
“She’s gone,” I said, taking a slow drag from my cigarette. The smoke curled in the air between us as she relaxed, the tension falling from her shoulders.
Penny crossed the room and slipped behind the bar without hesitation, sliding against my body like she belonged there—and damn, she did. She wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her cheek against my chest.
“What’s going on?” she murmured.
I let the cigarette hang between my lips as I wrapped her up in my arms, squeezing her tight, grounding myself in her warmth.
“She gave me the bar,” I said into her hair.
Penny pulled back, her eyes wide with delight. “She did?”
