Page 5 of The 7 Rules of Moving On
He poured their whiskey, shrugging. “I mean…” Man, he was fucking bombing.
“What’s your name?”
“Andrew. But everyone calls me Trig.”
“I’ve noticed that. How come? Are you, like, big into math or something?” Taking her drink from him, she brought the straw up to her lips. He’d never wanted so badly to be a straw.
“It’s my last name. Trig. But I do love math.”
“Me too.”
When she took a sip, he followed the motion from her pink lips, down her throat, stopping at the zipper of her hoodie.
“So…Kissie? I don’t think I’ve ever met a Kissie before.”
“It’s a nickname too, believe it or not.”
“I believe it,” he replied evenly, fighting his grin.
“My last name is Mitchell. And my first name is actually Joni.”
He snorted. “NowthatI don’t believe. Joni Mitchell?”
“I know, right? But it’s true. My parents are Joni superfans, but I never wanted to go by Joni Mitchell, for obvious reasons. My middle name is Cassandra, which was a word one of my little sisters couldn’t pronounce, so…Kissie. Now I’m just Kissie.”
“JustKissie?” He clicked his tongue. “No Sexy Bar Babe I know isjustKissie.”
When she chewed on her straw, grinning at him, her blue eyes sparkling in the twinkly lights above the bar, he wondered what archaic demon he could sell his soul to so he could at least kiss her tonight. “How’s your friend?” he asked.
“Snoring like a freight train, but better. We came up here with a mission to help her get over her cheating, piece of crap ex. I think it’s worked, at least a little.”
“Of course it did.” Pointing at the pool outside the windows, he said, “Those are healing waters. Magic, some say.”
“Magic, huh?” she said. “I guess that explains my neck.”
“What happened to your neck?”
“It’s been messed up for months. Stress, I guess.”
Warmth infused his entire body when she squeezed the back of her neck, rolling her head, her eyes closing. When her eyes opened again, she caught him staring.
“But ever since my first swim, it’s felt great.”
“Healing waters,” he repeated, turning around to change the music from hisBar Party Mixto hisClosing Time Mix. He took another sip of his drink while Taylor Swift’s “Cowboy Like Me” started playing.
“No way, dude!” Ryan cried. “No T-Swiz!”
“Fuck off,” Trig replied before telling Kissie, “I love Taylor.”
“Taylor suuuucks!” Ryan insisted.
“No, you suck!” Trig shot back. “Taylor is a poet, a storyteller. And this song is as good as any Dolly or Emmy Lou—”
“Make it stop!” Ryan cried, covering his ears with his hands.
Kissie was laughing. “Is Ryan an emotionless robot? Who doesn’t love Taylor?”
Trig nodded. “He is. Complete brick wall.” He aimed his voice down the bar. “Ryan thinks rodeos are the height of romance.”
