My head snaps up. "You saw that?"
"Honey, I see everything." She gestures around the bar. "Comes with the territory. You two were all over each other on the dance floor, then vanished for a bit, then she came running back through here like the devil was chasing her."
"She ran because—" I stop. Because I don't actually know why she ran. "It's complicated."
"It always is." Sarah wipes down the bar with practiced efficiency. "Pretty girl. Looked sad. New in town, I'd guess."
"Yeah." I take a long pull from my beer. "I don't even know her name."
"And that's bothering you."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yeah. It is."
Sarah gives me a look that's part sympathy, part amusement. "Well, well. Didn't think I'd see the day Colt Sullivan caught feelings."
"I didn't catch feelings," I protest, even though it sounds weak even to my own ears. "I just... I want to know who she is. That's all."
"Uh-huh." Sarah doesn't look convinced. "Look, if she's new in town and sticking around, you'll run into her again. Blackwater Falls is too small for two people to avoid each other forever."
That's what Boone said. And logically, I know it's true. But logic doesn't help the restless energy crawling under my skin, the need to see her again, talk to her, understand what happened.
I nurse my beer, only half-listening to the conversations around me. Amber's found another guy to dance with, good for her. The jukebox is playing something slow and romantic that makes myteeth hurt. A group near the pool table erupts in laughter over something.
And I'm just... here. Present but not really. Going through the motions.
This is pathetic. I'm pathetic. One woman who I barely know, who ran away from me, and I'm acting like some lovesick teenager instead of a grown man who knows better.
Except I've never felt like this before. Never had a woman burrow under my skin this way. Never spent the day after a failed hookup thinking about her instead of moving on to the next one.
Never jerked off in my bathroom thinking about a woman whose name I don't even fucking know.
I'm seriously considering just going home, admitting defeat and calling it a night, when the door to the bar opens.
I don't look up immediately. Why would I? It's just another person coming in for drinks, another face in the crowd. But then I catch Sarah's expression. She's looking toward the door, her eyebrows raised, and there's a knowing smile playing at her lips.
"Well, well," she murmurs. "Looks like your night just got more interesting."
I turn.
And my heart fucking stops.
It's her.
The mystery woman from last night, standing just inside the doorway like she's not quite sure she should be here. She's wearing jeans tonight instead of a dress, and a soft sweater that hugs her curves in a way that makes my mouth go dry. Her shorthair is styled differently, and she's got less makeup on, but I'd recognize those amber eyes anywhere.
Those eyes that are currently scanning the room like she's looking for something.
Looking for someone.
Looking for me.
Our gazes meet across the crowded bar, and the impact of it nearly knocks me on my ass. I see recognition flash in her expression, followed quickly by nervousness, followed by something that might be determination.
She came back.
She's here, after running out on me last night, after disappearing into the darkness. She came back to the bar where we met, where I touched her, where everything between us ignited and then imploded.
"Go talk to her, dumbass," Sarah mutters, and I realize I'm just standing here staring like an idiot.
