“And?”
I made a face. “And, if you’re calling him a kid, then what does that make me?” My head tilted as I sipped from the straw and looked up at him. His green eyes sparkled in the neon lights from the bar, mesmerizing me.
Your eyes are so green. Have they always been that bright?
Forsythe looked away and spoke as he took a sip of his water. “Little Lucille.”
I scoffed, slamming my cup down on the bar. “That’s not an answer. And I told you to stop calling me that.”
“I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for, but that’s mine. Yeah, you’re young, but you’re not some dumb kid stumbling through life making stupid choices.”
I stared at him. “Then what am I?”
Forsythe looked down at his drink. “You’re just…Lucille.” I rolled my eyes and groaned.
Why does his answer bum me out so much?
“I heard you went to see your brother yesterday.” I nodded. “How’d that go?”
My nail tapped against the tall glass. “I guess you heard what happened, huh?” He nodded. “Yeah, I saw him. We talked about a few things, and I tried to open up to him about how therapy can be really helpful. I don’t think he really knows how much of a tool it can be when it comes to healing. But, in the end, he said he’s going to resume it.”
Forsythe seemed happy to hear that. “He asked you about your past, didn’t he?”
“He did. And I explained enough. Honestly, the topic came and went quicker than I expected, and we ended up talking about everything from Wimberly to peach cobbler to his damn ex.” I scoffed.
He chuckled lightly. “Priscilla, right? That blue-eyed woman we ran into the other day?”
He remembered her eye color.
“Yeah.” I tsked. “Same woman.” I was sure my voice gave away my disgust. “Boone’s still upset over the whole thing. Though I’m not sure what he ever saw in her.”
Forsythe removed his jacket and laid it across his hat on the bar, revealing the tight black t-shirt he wore underneath. His smell smacked me in the face, reminding me of a spiced tea on a cold winter morning. “I’m sure he saw a completely different side of her.” I forced my eyes away from his thick, tatted arms. “I mean, she was his first love, right?”
“And?”
“And nothing. Someone’s first love tends to leave a heavier brand across one’s heart, more than any other relationship. No matter how much you try, you can never fully forget it. There will always be a tiny little piece of it left in the corner of your heart.”
I blew a raspberry. “Maybe for you, but not me.”
He watched me finish my tea. “You don’t remember your first love?”
I slammed the cup onto the bar as the ice clanked around within it. “Oh, I remember it.Waytoo well. Only there was no love there…only lies and deception. And in the end, I still cried over that cheating bastard.”
Forsythe ruptured into laughter and I jumped at how much it startled me. “Thatis not love. Oh, little Lucille. You may have grown up, but you still have so much to learn. Love—reallove—doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t cheat and lie. It breathes life into your soul, shielding you from the darkness in this godforsaken world. Nah, whatever you’re talking about, it ain’t love. Infatuation or lust maybe, but not love.” He took a drink of his water.
“From the way you’re talking, I’m assuming you’ve already experienced it firsthand.” I picked at my fingers.
Why did the thought bother me?
Forsythe’s gaze dropped to my hands. “In a way, I have. But no matter how much I try to reel her in, she prefers to hide from me.” He grinned. “I don’t blame her though, I’m not exactly a prize stallion.”
I didn’t know what to think. And I didn’t know what came over me to make me say the words that came out of my mouth next. “Yeah, okay, she must be blind then.” My eyes widened in shock from what I had just said.
What the hell did I just say?
Before he could even open his mouth, I chimed in. “I–I mean you’re notuglyor anything.”
He cleared his throat. “So, you’re saying I’m pretty.”
