I didn’t say goodbye to my scent match.
I had hoped for so damn long that it was her—and it was.
Sheismy scent match.
“You’re happier, too,” Rylee adds. “Like someone flipped a switch in you.”
“Am I?”
Happydoesn’t begin to describe it.
I found her. She’s the one.
My instincts were correct.
I was fuckingright.
“Hey, sorry I’m late!” a voice calls out, and I’d recognize that sweet sound anywhere.
Blair walks in through the front doors to the bar, and itislike a switch has flipped in me.
She’s all I can smell; all I can see.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
I grip the cleaning cloth and clench my jaw, nodding subtly at her. “Hey, you.”
She’s in the shortest black skirt I’ve ever seen her wear—one of my favorites by far. The kind I fantasized about when I wrapped my hand around my cock late at night, shamefully touching myself to the thought of her, back when she was just a friend. Her corset top shows off her cleavage beautifully, and gold glitter shimmers across her collarbones and the top of her chest. Her hair falls in golden waves around her, and dark liner rims her expressive eyes.
She looks like a goddess.
And she’s in those lace-up black boots that match her skirt.
All the blood rushes to my cock, and I think I might combust.
My scent match is in front of me, dressed in my favorite outfit.
I’m not going to last this shift.
“Hey, Blair,” Rylee says easily, looking at me knowingly. “Good to see you. You’re only like, two minutes late. I’m sureTravisdoesn’t mind.”
I roll my eyes and go back to polishing glasses, holding on to the last bit of my self-control.
“Yeah, well, I hate being late,” she murmurs. “But we got caught up with some kitten wrangling, then Piper spilled a can of cat milk everywhere.”
I shrug, trying to be nonchalant and not act like my dick is about to explode through my jeans. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
She smiles.
It’s a true, wide smile, full of joy. Her eyes even crinkle, and it makes my breath catch.
She’s so beautiful it’s ridiculous.
“I’ve got to set up for tonight,” Rylee says. “Talk to you two later.”
“Just us tonight?” Blair asks as she glances at the clipboard that hangs on the back of the bar. “Some more call outs?”
“Just us,” I reply.
