“I’m heading out after this,” I say to the awkward space between us. “Get a good night's sleep tonight, you’re on call the rest of the weekend.”
Chapter Twenty
Colter
Irattletheiceinmy glass and bring the straw to my lips to finish off the drink, wishing it contained something a hell of a lot stronger than water.
“Is this seat taken?” A hand reaches over to grasp my forearm, and I catch Barbie pink nails, long as claws, curling around my wrist. I turn to the side, completely forgetting that I caught the eye of the random blonde from the end of the bar.
My stomach lurches at the sight of her pulling up the chair next to me, but I force a half-smile and help her pull out the seat.
“Nope. All yours.”
This doesn’t feel right. Not in the slightest. But I need to do this. I need to get back to my old ways of one-night stands with women who are as shallow as me. It’s the dry spell, I tell myself. It’s a dry spell that started the day I met the leggy brunette who has whittled her way into my mind.
I bring my glass back to my lips, forgetting that I’ve already drained it.
I’d be a fool to think I could ever get over the woman that is Annaliese Keeton. But I can’t have her. The better part of me knows I don’t even deserve her. I’ve done fuck-all to warrant a good woman in my life. Especially one as brilliant and as kind as Annaliese. But it doesn’t stop this ache deep in my chest, a cavern widening with each day that ticks on.
“So, what’s your name?” the blonde asks again, and I set my empty glass on the table, pushing it toward the bartender as he approaches.
“Bourbon on the rocks,” I tell him. I haven’t had a drop of liquor since the night before I met Annaliese. I hadn’t needed it anymore, no longer craved it. The only thing I’ve wanted to get fucked up on, the only high I’ve been itching for, is her.
And earlier today, I almost let myself get drunk off of her. If I had one taste, I know I’d be a goner. But that can’t happen. My relationship with Richard might be fucked at this point, but the bottom line is that Annaliese is still leaving in a few months. If I plan to make it through the rest of my time with her, and whatever purgatory I’ll be living in once she’s gone, then I’m going to need to drink something stronger.
He nods and turns to make my drink, and it’s only then that I twist in my chair to face the woman at my side. I reach a hand out, taking her clammy hand in mine. “Colter. Dr. Colter Andrews.” I wince a little at my words. Is this really what I do? Is this the man I’ve become? I used to live for the moment I’d drop the doctor title and see the sparkle in a woman’s eye. But the moment doesn’t hit quite like it used to.
Maybe it’s because I’m out of practice. It’s been three months since I’ve been in this bar, in a moment like this, trying to find someone to bring home for the night.
“Daphne.”
“Nice to meet you, Daphne.” Her name rolls off my tongue with a bitter taste. I let my eyes fall to the cleavage that’s nearly bursting out of her too-tight dress. Her pink nails match her pink lipstick and the pink stripper heels that are currently rubbing along the back of my calf. Her entire look used to be what I’d aim for, but right now, it does absolutely nothing besides make me sick. My stomach clenches, and I nearly double over from the feeling.
I can’t do this.
I’m about to make some sorry excuse to leave, to go back home alone with my tail between my legs and dreams of Annaliese, when the squeals from a bachelorette party catch my eye.
A group of girls came in a few minutes ago, and the bride in white with her party sash held my gaze a little longer than what’s appropriate for a woman about to promise her life to another. Three months ago, I might have invited her to the back room for a little fun. Hell, a year ago I definitely would have. But tonight, when she eye-fucked me from across the bar, an unfamiliar, sickening weight settled in my chest.
“Your bourbon, sir.” The bartender sets my glass across the smooth oak bar and I reach for it. I bring the glass to my mouth, ready to take a sip as I peruse the rest of the bachelorette party, but my hand freezes when I spy a brunette with her back to me.
Long, athletic legs peek out from a tiny black dress. She’s paired it with a worn leather jacket and black boots. The whole outfit is sexy with an edge, and I’m immediately drawn to her.
Daphne says something, and I half-heartedly turn to answer her question, barely keeping the conversation afloat when my gaze flicks back to where the brunette was standing.
She’s moved from her spot; she stands in front of the bank of windows that line the street. The bride carries a tray of shots over to her friends, passing them out one by one. I crane my neck over the bustle of the crowd, wanting to catch a glimpse of the brunette’s face but losing her in my line of sight.
Then the bride shouts something, gathering all the women together when she turns to her friend still gazing out the window at the light mist that’s falling from the sky. “Annaliese, get your ass over here!”
Annaliese.
My heart thunders, and the moment becomes a slow-motion montage as Annie slowly turns her head to look over her shoulder, her long wavy hair following a moment behind. She smiles at her friend, her face lighting up with a breathtaking glow that has my chest tightening for an entirely different reason.
I should have known it was her. I should have known that the first genuine attraction I’ve felt for a woman since the day she walked into my life was directed toward her.
I should have noticed the combination of sex and strength; the delicate, sexy woman who can also hold her own.
Annie grabs the shot from her friend's hand, and once they raise them all up for a cheer, I push my chair back to break away from Daphne.
