Driving towards town, I am a ball of nerves. I am just going to the bar to have a drink. To see if she is there. It has been a week since she gave me her number and I hope to hell she hasn’t given it to anyone else. Just thinking about someone else talking to her, flirting with her, doing all the dirty things I have thought of doing to her has me stomping on the gas.
“No fucking way. That fucking girlis mine,” I growl, as if telling myself what I’ve felt since the moment I laid eyes on her.
Kicking up gravel as I sail into a parking spot out in front of the bar, I take a moment to calm myself down. I have no right to think that. To feel it. To want it. Not yet, at least. For all I know, she just gives her number often.No. No, that is not right. There were three other guys at that table—she gave that number to me. For me to have it, for me to call her.
“Hey stranger,” Tre calls as she exits the bar, a smirk on her face. “I thought my new help might’ve scared you off. You good, Sebastian?”
Blinking at her, my face flushes as I struggle to steady my shaking hands. Yes. I am good. I am about to see Scout. About to talk to her again. Hell, I might even get the courage to ask her out. I doubt it, but I can work my way up to it in time.
“Evening, Tre. I am good. You heading out for the night?”
Tre’s grin widens as she nods, tipping her head towards a waiting car. I recognize the man waiting for her as the tattoo artist who just opened shop here in Driftwood. Explains all the fresh ink she has been showing off. Telling them to have a good night, I take a moment to prepare myself.
Stepping inside the dark bar, I immediately am aware I am not prepared. The soft melodies of a familiar George Strait song fill the air. Along with that sweet strawberry scent, I know is Scout. Standing behind the bar, she sways side to side to the music, singing along as she wipes down the sticky bar top.
Jesus, she is the most perfect thing I have ever seen.
Standing behind the bar in a bright white ribbed tank top that shows off a lot of golden skin, she smiles as I stride towards the bar. In another pair of tattered jean shorts, her plump ass bounces as she turns to fill a mug with ice. I do not even pretend I am not staring when she turns back. How could I not?
“Evening, Sebastian,” she calls with a smile as she pulls a foamy draft of beer, sliding it my way before I even ask.
“Hi, Scout,” I manage before I duck my head, unable to hold eye contact with those cool blue eyes.
Sitting at a stool, I stretch my legs out beneath the bar, drumming my fingers on the bar top. Crossing her arms, she leans over, cocking her head. Her gaze is as intimate as a touch, as if she had reached out and walked her fingers down my bare skin. It heats my body until I am sweating in my nice flannel and jeans.
“Somebody forgot how to use their words. Can’t call a girl after she passes you her number, sugar?”
Flushing so hot I am sure I must ridiculous, I nod my head. For what, I am not sure, but it is all I can manage. “I would... I wanted... I mean...yes.”
“Yes, you cannot call a girl? Yes, you forgot how to use your words?”
Blinking at her as she grins, I cannot help but smile, too. I shake my head, take a sip of the cold beer, and respond. “All the above, I guess? I came here tonight to see you. To see how you were. How you like it here.”
“Here as in The Rusty Nail? Or Driftwood Peaks?”
Scout grins even bigger, winking as I become flustered again. It takes very little effort to fluster me. I sip at my beer again, trying to work out what to say to her. How to talk to her. I inhale her sweet strawberry scent, my heart racing in my chest as she stares at me. I am not sure what she sees, but I fear I am making a fool out of myself.
“Sebastian, how do you feel about games? Board games, trivia games, card games. That sort of thing?”
Glancing up, I frown at the odd question before I shrug. “Well, I suppose they’re a good time. Used to play cards with an uncle of mine. Pretty sure he did time in prison because he cheated all the time.”
Scout laughs, the sound deep, warm, drawing me closer to her orbit. I stare at her for a moment, not ignoring how the air seems to arc between us. For the past few days, I tried to tell myself it was all in my head. What I felt that day we met, but it is not. It sparks between us right now.
“Got it, cheating uncle. I buy it. How about we play a game?”
For a moment, I am sure my heart stops beating. I stop breathing. I am flooded with a dozen visuals of games I would love to play with her. None of them could we do here and now. I palm myself beneath the bar, shocked I am hard as stone from her simple question.
“Wh-what sort of... I mean, agame?”
“Yeah, we will have fun with it. We all need a little fun, don’t we?”
“Yes, I suppose we do. What sort of game, Scout?”
Narrowing her pretty eyes, she cocks her head. Those eyes light up as she slams her hand on the counter. “Truth or Dare. The best way to find out about someone is to play some truth or dare. What do you say?”
Nodding, I empty the beer she poured me, needing the courage. “I say yes.”
Scout positively beams as she claps her hands. It is the cutest thing I have ever seen, and I want to make her smile this way forever. Tapping her finger on her pouty pink mouth, she seems to consider her options.
