Page 7 of Cherry Beats

If this was a dream, I wanted to wake up now before it went any further, because this was one fantasy I was never going to get over. I didn’t wake up, and the more I stared at him, the more he stared back. I wasn’t a woman who shied away when challenged—usually—and now was a good a time as any to put my personality to the test.

Dropping my cloth on the floor, I reached underneath the counter for two glasses, keeping my eyes trained on his face the entire time. I pulled two pints of beer and slid one over to him before I leaned against the bar.

“Nothing deserves a free drink quite like an unexpected compliment.” I raised my glass to him.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble on my account.”

“Maybe I think you’re worth it.”

“Then go right ahead.” He smirked awkwardly like the compliment had surprised him as much as I’d surprised myself by setting it free.

“Cheers to Big Paw.”

“Cheers to Cherry.” He took a careful sip of his drink, briefly closing his eyes like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, before his lashes fluttered open again.

I wrapped my lips around the rim of my own glass and took a slow, cheeky drink for myself.

“So, tell me about these men in your life.”

“What do you want to know?” I placed my drink back on the bar and dusted off my hands.

“Were they good to you?”

“Define good.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“Emotionally?” I shook my head. “No. There was no attachment whatsoever. Physically? Who doesn’t like a bit of slap and tickle during sex?”

His laughter sounded like its own song—one I’d hit repeat on for the rest of my life.

“My, my.” He sighed through his gigantic smile that showcased his perfect white teeth. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Not really. A surprise is something that jumps out at you, catches you off guard when you least expect it. You don’t know me, so nothing I tell you should be a surprise. It should be interesting, like all new information is, whether good or bad. Not surprising.”

He nodded once, contemplating my answer. “But what if you think you know someone better than you really do? Over time, you’ve seen pieces of a person and put them together, and in your head, you think those pieces have been placed where they were always meant to be. You just have no idea how wrong you are until the person who made the goddamn puzzle stands over your shoulder and tells you where you fucked up.”

“I’d say I think I could talk to you like this all night.” I sighed dreamily. “Why do you waste your time on women like Gertrude?”

“Who the fuck is Gertrude?”

“Sorry.” I thumbed over my shoulder. “The chick who just left. I didn’t know her name, so I mentally christened her Gertrude.”

“Why the hell would you name anyone that?”

“Because she annoyed me, being all bouncy-haired, fluttering eyelashes, boobs out for the world to see, fake hyena laugh, pretending she actually listened to a damn interesting thing you had to say, when all she really wanted to do was sleep with you so she could brag to her friends. Gertrude made her seem, I don’t know, less princess-like.” I raised my brows and groaned. “And now I’ve said all that out loud, I realise what a fucking judgemental idiot I sound like.”

“No kidding.” He chuckled.

“Guilty as charged. But my question still stands. Why waste your time?”

Presley blew out a breath and looked down at his beer.

“Rock star?” I pushed, sliding myself and my drink closer. I was only a slip of the hand away from being able to brush my fingers against his. Close enough to make contact if he wanted to. Far enough away that I wouldn’t be getting arrested for groping the town’s most attractive drummer boy anytime soon.

“For the record, her name was Anna.”

“That’s what she said.”

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