The moment the door closes behind her, my shoulders relax, though the grin never leaves my face. Not even when I nod to the customer who settles on the stool next to me. I press my hands into the counter and debate whether or not I should go after her.
Magenta has never been a hue I’ve thought much about until this moment, but I think it is now my favorite color.
I roll my fingers into a tight fist before stretching them out to an almost painful sensation. The thought of fisting dark pink curls as I—. Taking in a deep inhale I refocus myself and decide it’s better for the both of us if I give her the space she clearly needs.
I make my way back over to Selly and attempt to quickly work through the emotions warring within me. Even with seven years of distance between us, I still feel the urge to reach out and pull her to me.Paloma still takes my breath away, every single one of those barely-there freckles calling to me. In the short time she stood in front of me, I recounted all nineteen of them.
I could easily lie and say I want nothing to do with her. It's what my brain tells me to do. My heart on the other hand wants to be under her shoe—I don't know if it’s a good thing or not that the thought of her heel being pressed against my neck makes my dick jump. I’ll keep as much distance as I can, for now. Selly’s eyes are the size of the moon as I scoot into the bench across from her. I start to shake my head as I grab the menu—choosing to hide behind it. Knowing Sel, she’s going to want all the details. Details I don’t know if I can think about, let alone share. When I make eye contact with my cousin, she widens her eyes further in a “say something”type of look.
“An ex.” I use the least amount of words hoping she’ll drop it. Truly, I’m not sure if I ever told her about Paloma. The thought of the day I left for Europealoneguts me, reminding me why she isn’t someone I should consider. Again though, my heart doesn’t give a rat’s ass.
“She’syour ex?” Of course she couldn’t let me have this.
Before I can offer a retort, a waitress walks up to our table. “An order of loaded potato skins?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve been thinking about these babies sinceyoudecided to walk off.” Sel acknowledges me without a glance in my direction as the newly arrived appetizer has all her attention.
“When did you even have a chance to order?”
“Um, hello. When you went over there making heart eyes at homegirl,” she replies, attempting to pick up the hot appetizer.
“And what makes you think I would want these?” I ask her, knowing damn well I want at least two.
“Come on, Clinton, everyone loves potatoes. Now tell me about thisex.” Her voice lowers when she says “ex.”
“What makes you say it like that, all whispery?”
“Well, she’s the owner. Or, I guess, one of the owners of this place. When I came by earlier, she was the one I met and now you tell me she’s an ex. One, who by the looks of it, I thought you were going to dry hump across the counter.” I smooth my hand over my face and release a deep sigh. The more she talks the louder her voice gets, something my cousin and Paloma seem to share.
“Dry hump. Really, Selene.”
“Yeah, exactly. Seeing as that’s the only thing you picked up on from everything I said. Who is she? And don’t tell me an ex or the owner of Shaken Tropes. Tell me something I don’t know.” She levels me with a stare.
“This feels wrong to talk about here,” I say, my eyes peering into the crowd as if I’m trying to find someone. Or maybe I’m hoping someone will save me from this conversation. Either way, nothing happens. “We met seven years ago—”
“She’s like twenty! Robbing the cradle much!”
“I’m not robbing the damn…! Will you hush and let me tell you?” I growl out. “As I was saying, we met seven years ago when I decided to take on a part-time position at Mossy Oaks Golf Club. And yeah, she’s younger than me by nearly twelve years. We flirted and had a little fling.” I choke back a swallow, hoping that Sel believes my sorry-ass lie.
“You ho,” Selly gasps out, right before she stuffs a potato skin, finally cool enough to eat, into her mouth. She flicks her wrist at me to continue.
“Shit, I never grabbed my wallet. You’re paying.” I rub my clammyhands on my pants as I start again, “I thought we may have been on the same page. We dated, if you can call it that, for over eight months, and it started as light flirting but quickly turned into us spending every day together. Mornings at my place, early dinners at hers when I had a scheduled tee time.
“Remember when I took the international trip?” I ask, watching my cousin as she nods her head up and down. “Well, I invited her to go with me. What a fucking foolish thing to do. Though she said she would be at the airport, she never showed up. Anyway, long story short, she told me not to fall in love with her, and I did, like a fool. ”
“Wait...do we hate her?”
“No.” I chuckle. “I mean, at first I wanted to hate her, but I...I don’t think I can. She told me not to fall in love with her,toldme she didn’t believe in long-lasting love, and she would never put herself in such a position, but I thought I was the exception. I waited for her at the gate until I couldn’t wait anymore. I held on to anger and unforgiveness for a while because I simply couldn’t see she wasn’t ready.” My focus drifts for a moment when Paloma walks back into view, and I force myself to remain in my seat, not wanting to make her nervous.
I turn my attention back to Sel, and she asks, “And now that you’ve seen her again?” Such a simple question. One that causes my chest to tighten, reminding me of how numb I felt when she didn’t show up.
“I don’t know. Does it hurt? Hell yeah, it fucking hurts, but I’m not mad. She was young and knew she wasn't ready. No matter how ready I was, I couldn't make it so—not for the both of us. Now, I just hope she’s happy.” I shrug and lean in, grabbing a potato skin for myself.
“You definitely need to dance.”
We eat a few more of the cheesy potato goodness while we sip on ourdrinks. When I glance back up, my eyes search for Paloma. When I finally find her, she’s already looking at me. Her lashes flutter low, then her eyes are back on me, and my heart thumps in my ears. Her focused gaze is intoxicating. Raising the glass she’s cleaning, the tip of her tongue swipes across her bottom lip, and I’m transfixed on the motion. Someone must call her name because she’s turning away, answering something I’m too far away to hear. Paloma gives me one more glance, a pink blush warms her cheeks, and then she’s gone. She’s truly in her element here, laughing with customers while she talks up a new book. It’s as if she breathes matching books and cocktails for each person. I also wonder if there has been room for her to grow and welcome love into her life.
“Now that you’re done ogling the woman you just swear is in your past, I’m about to go dance my ass off,” Sel says, rising from the booth. She raises her brow before asking, “You coming?”
