“I should kick you in the dick for that.”
“I’m close though, right?!”
“Wrong.” Frustration has me rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “So very fucking wrong further proving my point.”
His lips pull together to one side in order to bide him a moment to concoct a retort. “Test me again.”
“Least favorite type of food?”
“Korean!”
“French.” Gagging mindlessly occurs. “Why do they have to fucking braise everything or always offer brie as an app?!”
His face wrinkles yet again over his mistake. “Test me a third time.”
“No,” I bite without reluctance. “It’s not gonna matter what I ask, you’re gonna get the answer wrong because youneverlistened to me. Just like you never reallytalkedto me. You talkedatme. You told me about your family. And your wants. And your dreams. And your expectations but never asked me about mine. What happened to my mom. Why my dad isn’t in the picture. What I wanted to doafterthis portion of my career ended. Hell, you never even asked me if I had any hobbies. You just focused on what you enjoyed us doing and assumed it went double for me, which it didn’t. I could not give a fuck less about bird watching.”
Shock tumbles his jaw to his sandal bearing feet.
“I’mnot your person, Wheeler. And if you take a moment to stop chasing me simply because I’m the one that ‘got away’, maybe you’ll actually find whoever that is.” There’s no stopping the smile that slips onto my face. “The same way I’m pretty sure I have.”
Surprise and sadness overthrow his expression, allowing an easy exit to be taken.
Sure, what started out between us was fake, but neither of us can deny howrealit’s become.
How real we want it to continue to be.
Especially not after the moment we had in the bathroom this morning.
I don’t think I’ve ever been that honest with anyone other than myself.
And I don’t think he has either.
And I believe that alone is the perfect base to a beautiful relationship.
Weaving my way over to the edge table near the water that they’ve procured requires grace and flexibility due to the fact no one seems interested in moving or being moved – most likely for fear of losing their “golden” spot.
Upon my arrival, I have a clear view of the stage where Bryn is singing a very familiar song in a low, raspy, borderline unemotional tone all alone. “Is she really singing ‘Sexy Back’?”
J.T. lightly chortles. “Yeah.”
“Like a Klingon?”
“Yeah,” he laughs louder while rising to his feet.
“Does she know that it’s far from sexy?” I tease between snickers.
“Eh,” Jer shrugs off, “the fuckboy you used to date sounds worse.”
Rather than allowing for a rebuttal, my fake boyfriend I can’t wait to call real, lovingly cups my face with both hands and presses his lips warmly against mine. Our lips spread in tandem to gift us both a taste of one another, something we haven’t had in what feels like decades. Hints of liquor and mint are met with that of taffy allowing every lash to be filled with answers of what’s kept us apart for past few hours.
And it has only been a few hours in spite of the fact we’re melting into each other like it’s been eons.
J.T. is first to pull back, yet I’m the one who speaks, “Mint Julep?”
“MintJaxa,” he playfully corrects. “Gotta stay in theme.”
“Aren’t those traditionally made with bourbon?”
