“Oh, you know. It’s game day, so we’ve got a little crowd. Who’s this?” Joe tips his head to me and offers a hand.
“Taylor,” I introduce myself and shake his hand.
“You keeping this guy in line?” he asks.
“More like I’m the one keeping her in line,” Grant chuckles and wraps an arm around me. As his scent envelopes me, I feel the tension melt out of my shoulders and a calm washes over me.
“He’s not wrong about that. I’m a handful.” I shoot a wink at Joe before peeking up at Grant. His eyes are already on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention and butterflies erupt in my belly.
“Usual for you?” Joe asks Grant as he picks up a pint glass and holds it under the tap.
“Yeah, man.”
Joe looks to me as he fills Grant’s glass. “What about you? What would you like?”
I rest my arms on the bar. “Got any local beers on tap?”
Joe shakes his head on a laugh and passes me the pint he just poured for Grant. “Sure do. This is it, but ladies first.” He pours another and hands it to Grant.
“How long have ya’ll been together? I’ve never seen you in here before.” Joe looks between us. I’m still pressed into Grant’s side. I know I should move, but it hasn’t been like this in so long and I’m lost in the feel of his hard chest against my arm.
“Tay travels for work a lot.” Grant studiously avoids the question. I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever brought anyone else to this bar. If he’s ever taken anyone home that he met here. All things I shouldn’t care or think about.
“Leave it open?” Joe asks, letting the topic drop.
“Yeah. We’ll be here a while.”
“Cheers,” I say, holding up my beer. Grant taps the glass to mine and takes a sip, his eyes never leaving mine.
Suddenly, I’m not in a bar in Nashville, I’m back in Brooklyn locking eyes with the hot pitcher and my brother’s friend across the room. Looking at him now in only a T-shirt and dress pants,I can see the man I once knew. His hair is slightly longer, a bit more unkempt. Fine lines frame his eyes that didn’t used to be there. His body has filled out now that he’s not on a strict training regimen, but he’s still hard and muscular in all the right places.
“There’s a dartboard in the corner,” he says, bringing me out of the memory.
I grab the peanuts from the bar and move further into the room like I already know where the dartboard is. “Oh, you’re going down.” Grant’s husky laugh chases after me and it feels like a full circle moment.
We met in a bar where I hustled him in darts, and now he brought me to his favorite bar in this new city where it feels a lot like we’re finding our way back to each other, and I’m about to hustle him again.
It may have been ten years since we met.
We may have not spoken for more than double the time we were together.
But we were still those same two people.
Last night was fun—more fun than I’ve had in a long time, but I’m feeling it today and I need all the caffeine to help get my morning started. Stepping into the quaint brick coffee shop, my mouth waters in anticipation of the treat I’m about to devour. Ivory discovered this place earlier this year, and we have been hooked ever since.
“Taylor!” The shop owner smiles widely when I reach the counter. Her apron is dusted in flour and she has her hair tied back with a ribbon to keep it out of her face.
“Jeni, how are you?”
“I’m doing well. It’s so good to see you.”
"You too. I’ve missed those croissants.” My stomach growls loudly, making Jeni laugh.
“We can’t have you going hungry. Anything else?” she asks, ringing in my food.
“Is it early enough for a cappuccino?” I tease her. When I first stopped in, it was the middle of the afternoon and I ordered a cappuccino. She kindly let me know that cappuccinos were not meant to be enjoyed after lunch. That simply wasn’t the Italian way.
Looking at the time, she rolls her eyes and adds the cappuccino to my order. I tap my card on the register and pull out some cash to drop into the tip jar on the counter.
