Hours later, I walked into The Lion and heard the deep tone of her voice, the perfect rendition of Amy Winehouse taking over the bar. A few stragglers hung around the stool where she sat, the spotlight showcasing her blonde hair. It was braided tonight. Her plaid shirt and dark jeans gave her a punk rock look and my heart sped up. I didn’t order a beer or talk to anyone. I watched her.
Is this real? A real relationship? My first one?
Fuck yeah.
I grinned at the same time as her brown eyes found mine. They widened a fraction before she winked at me and continued playing. Once she’d announced her break, I wasted no time in walking up to her. “G, come here.”
I opened my arms, and instead of her falling into them, she hesitated.What the fuck?I wrapped myself around her, grabbing her chin with my hands and kissing her. “I missed your mouth.”
“Mm,” she hummed, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. Her eyes warmed at me, the knot in my chest lessening. “I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“I told you. I missed you.” My hand remained on her chin, the desire to do anything she asked crossing my mind. “You sound amazing, baby.”
She bit her lip, glancing away for a second. “Thank you. The Winehouse song was a new one. First time playing it live.”
“Yeah?” I twirled the end of her hair. “You killed it.”
“Really?” She scrunched her nose, the gesture damn near killing me. “Thanks.”
“You’re an amazing performer.” I kissed her forehead. “Can I come back with you?”
She frowned for a second, so quick and so hard it made lines appear on her face. “I don’t know. I’m on my period and I want to watch shitty movies. Maybe cry. Maybe eat all the ice cream in the county.”
“I like shitty movies. And crying. And ice cream.”
Her teeth met her lip again, but I knew I’d won her over. She smiled, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay. If you insist.”
“I do. And I’m a barbarian. Don’t mess with me.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that. Aaron the Barbarian.” She fought a laugh and lost. “Wow. I’m pissed I haven’t figured that out before now. Aaron the Barbarian has a nice ring to it, don’t ya think?”
“I prefer Ronnie from you. Oroh god, yes.”
“Aaron!” She hit my chest, my hand catching hers. I spun her around, forgoing all masculine cards society deemed I should have. “What—what are you doing?”
“I wanted to check you out. My girlfriend is hot.” I whistled, the red on her neck giving her away. “I’m a big fan of these jeans.”
“Look, can we talk about something?” A line appeared between her brows, her dark chocolate orbs dulling somehow.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about the break-up, you know?” she said in one, quick breath. “It’s in four weeks. Will it be a big super-public one? Where we stage a fight? Or passive and quiet? What do you think? Because it’s coming up soon and I think we should plan it. Or talk about it to know what to do.”
It felt like ice water poured down my veins. “Woah, slow down.”
“What?” She pushed away, the distance between us growing more than a couple of inches. “I’m trying to prepare myself for it. The downfall. The looks. TheI told you sos. What do you think? Just an amicable one?”
“Greta, we don’t have to talk about it now.” I became pissed. “Hell, we still have weeks left.”Tell her, idiot. Tell her.
“Fine. I want to be prepared, that’s all.” Her normally warm eyes froze over. “I have to go back up on stage.”
“Okay, I’ll wait until you’re done.” I leaned in, hoping to kiss her, but she moved her face at the last second, giving me her cheek. “Greta?”
“Sorry! Gotta go play!”
And for the first time, an uncomfortable, unfamiliar pang hit my chest that had me questioning everything.
Chapter Twenty-Three
