Page 23 of Broken on the Mountain
I bring gummy bears to work because they remind me of playing with my sister.
This weekend thing? It's perfect for her. No commitment, no expectations, no having to explain to Mommy and Daddy whyshe's slumming it with a rescue tech who washed out of basic training.
Just fun.
Temporary.
Enoughfor now.
But never enough to stay.
Then Piper steals my pickle, grins like it's the best thing she's ever tasted, and all my insecurities quiet down again.
She chose me this weekend.
That's enough.
It has to be.
"Dance with me," Piper says suddenly, eyes bright with Charlie's cocktails.
"You want to dance? Here?" I gesture toward the jukebox, which is currently playing something twangy and upbeat.
"Scared, Morrison?"
Piper waggles her brows at me. Knox and Travis exchange looks that promise endless future torment back at the station this week.
"Fuck," I groan, sliding a hand down my face.
But before I can redirect toward the dart board or pool table, or some other safer territory where I can pretend to be cool, Piper rises onto her toes, fists my shirt in both hands, and kisses me like the entire room doesn't exist.
Around us, the tavernerupts.
Hollers and whistles and Knox's dramatic gasp of "Oh my God, I see her tongue!" fill the air. Charlie rings a little bell from behind the bar like it's New Year's Eve.
But I don't hear any of it.
All I register is Piper's mouth. Warm and whiskey-sweet. Her fingers twisted in my flannel. The way she melts against me like she's been doing this her whole life.
When she finally pulls back, her lipstick is smudged and her smile is pure sunshine.
My heart does full golden retriever zoomies in my chest.
I want her in my bed tonight.
I file this moment away underproof she chooses me, then gently tuck it into the future I'm not allowed to plan yet because of our stupid rules.
"Okay, okay, okay…" Knox fans himself with a menu. "I need a moment. That wasbeautiful."
"Get a room," Travis deadpans, throwing back the remainder of his beer.
Charlie leans against the bar, arms crossed. "That counts as mushy. You heard what I said, lovebirds. Jukebox slow dance is now mandatory."
"Fine," I say, standing and offering Piper my hand. "But I'm picking the song."
I feed quarters into the jukebox and scroll until I find something slow and sweet. Eventually, I find an old country ballad about mountain roads and coming home. I listened to it endlessly while training to achieve my dream of becoming a proud soldier. A dream that never happened because I was too scared. Too afraid to push past the hard bits.
When I turn back, Piper's already swaying, eyes half-closed, completely unselfconscious.
