Page 6 of South of The Skyway

“Absolutely.”

“Got siblings?” I asked, curious.

“None worth mentioning.”

Straight to the point. I could appreciate that.

“You?” she questioned, blowing a soft blonde curl off her face. Taking a second to study her before answering, I noted the precise blade of eyeliner, her cosmetics sheer but applied intentionally, a light shimmer over each lid.

“Twelve of us,” I finally replied. The double take was precisely as expected, as was her next question.

“Good lord, are you, like, Mormon or super Christian or something?”

“Nope.”

She blinked, before delivering the classic follow up question. “All one set of parents?”

“Yep.”

“Your poor mother.”

Chuckling, I quipped, “I’ll tell her you say so.”

She giggled before choking on the sound and covering her mouth. “You know what I mean.”

“Honestly, your concern is warranted. I’m not sure how she’s retained any semblance of sanity.” It was true. We’d certainly given her a run for her money, especially the younger boys.

“Mine lost her shit with one, so I don’t have a clue.” She marched forward, plucking out our darts as she asked, “Where you from?”

“How do you know I’m not from around here?”

Bright eyes flicked to me as she popped her hip. “We own this bar.”

Well, that was interesting. It would be a little inconvenient if she didn’t believe in community over competition, now, wouldn’t it? “Literally or figuratively?”

“Socially. And believe me, if we had seen you before, we’d remember.”

“It’s an awfully big city,” I pointed out. Some part of me was deeply satisfied when she immediately countered.

“And an awfully small bar.”

“Play,” I said over a smile, jerking my chin towards the board. She complied, the sharp point sticking just to the left of the center. She spun one between her fingers before handing it to me. It was such a chaste graze of skin, it shouldn’t have caught my attention, but it did. Something electric sparked up my spine. “I’m Rhyett,” I offered as I tossed it, landing just to the right. I certainly wasn’t as practiced as my opponent, but it wasn’t too shabby. At least good enough to keep my balls intact.

“Brexley,” she said as her next shot hit the red.

“How about you?”

“Just told you, didn’t I?”

I chuckled, shaking my head, and making a point of handing over her drink, lingering for just a beat too long to see if our chemistry was as electric as anticipated. It was. Of course, it fucking was. Heat shot through my spine, yanking tight beneath the zing of her touch.

“You from around here?”

“Born and raised. You can’t tell from the exhaustion under my eyes? Youarenew around here.”

“Not a fan of Tampa Bay?”

“Not a fan of Florida in general.”

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