I haven’t had sex since Atlas died. My wasted body is like the Sahara Desert, and although the idea of sleeping with some random guy doesn’t sit well with me, a primal part of me needs to get laid.
My insides tremble as I run my fingertip across the bar and force myself to say it. “Maybe I can give you my number… and you can call me if you need me.”
Ugh! I can’t believe you just said that.
My entire body is cringing as he lets out a soft laugh and snatches a napkin from next to the bowl of pretzels. “How about I give you mine?”
Pulling a pen from my apron, I hand it over, and he scribbles down his number before handing it to me.
It flops in front of my hand, and I have to tell myself to take it, to read the name beneath those digits.
“Nice to meet you, Sutton.”
“You too, Dani.” He points to my name tag, and yeah, I really do hate wearing one, even if it does mean I don’t have to introduce myself to people. “You give me a call and maybe we can hang out sometime.”
I nod, slipping the number into my back pocket. “I’ll do that.”
His smile grows a little wider, and I have that second of doubt—will he answer if I call? Will he reply if I text?
Shit, this dating thing sucks!
Atlas and I met in high school. Everything about it was so natural and simple and easy.
Now I’m trying to get back into the world, and it all feels impossible.
I’ll love Atlas forever, but it’s time to move on, and I had no idea how challenging that would be. Putting myself out there isterrifying. But if I don’t start living again… I’m gonna shrivel up and die.
I want to love my life again.
I want tofeelsomething other than despair… or that hollow numbness that’s been feasting on me for way too long now.
So, I will call Sutton. And I’ll ask him out on a date, and I’ll go to that damn thing, and I’ll enjoy it. Because I have to.
Because I need?—
“Dani!”
I turn to see who just shouted my name… and the air in my lungs goes still, my eyes bulging as I stare down the bar and double-check that I am in fact seeing what I’m seeing.
No way.
No freaking way.
My lips part, my heart catapulting into my throat as that tall glass of water at the end of the bar raises his hand and gives me a shy smile.
It’s still the same.
Even after all this time.
He may look stronger, tougher even… but that smile hasn’t changed.
“Tyrell Jackson,” I whisper under my breath as a force I can’t counter drags me down toward Atlas’s best friend.
A giddy feeling I wasn’t expecting fills me up, bubbling and bursting in my chest. And before I know it, a laugh is punching out of me. “Tyrell Jackson? No way!” I slap the bar. “What are you doing here?”
“What areyoudoing here?” He points at me.
I tip my head back with another laugh, still surprised by just how happy I am to see him. It’s taking everything in me not to climb over the counter and give him a big ol’ hug. From memory, Tyrell always gave the best hugs, those full-body, hold-you-close kinds.
