A sharp laugh escapes, and I order a beer. “Guess we’ll never know. Maybe she is a serial killer, and I just dodged a literal bullet.”
“Maybe.” Annie grins around her straw, then plucks a cherry from the endless slew of ice cubes. “Behind the ground beef is a collection of body parts. Elbows and clavicles because she’s different and quirky.”
“Heads and hearts are too predictable.”
“And I bet she does name them after serial killers, but in an offbeat way.” Her blue eyes glimmer under the indigo lights. “Bed Tundy.”
“Jesus.” I reach for my beer, veiling the toothy grin I can’t tamp down. “Well, thanks for saving me then. I’ve managed to avoid becoming a shinbone named Jack the Stripper in Jaclyn’s produce drawer.”
“Here to help.” She clinks her glass with mine. “Happy birthday, Chase.”
The humor tapers off as I stare transfixed at the cherry between her lips. She scoops it into her mouth with her tongue, and a moment later, removes the perfectly knotted stem.
Silence settles.
The energy changes.
Then the whiskey turns on me. “Do you really love him?”
She chokes on her drink.
Her eyes widen like she can’t believe I just asked her that.
Gulping hard, Annie peers down at the floor, jaw working, lashes fluttering. The glistening cherry bow tumbles from her fingers, landing beside my boot.
I exhale sharply. “Sorry.” Taking a hard swig of my beer, I shake my head and slam the bottle on the counter, turning to face her. “No. I’m not sorry.”
“Chase—”
“I’m fucking crazy about you.”
Slowly, her eyes pan upward. Shock glitters in her ambushed gaze, stealing her breath.
Moisture pools as her mouth fumbles for a response.
Regret gnaws, and my head pounds. But my heart pounds harder. This need to lay it all out there before it’s too late chomps through logic and morality.
Grit rolls up my throat as my voice lowers to a whisper. Sincerity bleeds through, honesty threaded with desperation. “I’m crazy about you, Annie.”
Sound shrinks on all sides, the lights dimming until all I see is her. Standing there, mouth ajar, looking at me like I just ripped a rug out from under her. The gems on her dress sparkle and blur. Her cheeks redden to match. Two teary pearls breach the corners of her eyes.
This isn’t fair.
I’m not being fair.
And still I wait, hoping, yearning, hemorrhaging at her feet. Silently pleading with her to see me.
Not him. Just me.
Annie makes a sound, a little squeak of despair. “I—”
“There you are.”
A dark shadow trudges over, blackening the moment. Pilfering all the hope and wretched expectation from the room. Sound returns, the lights blaze brighter and hotter, and the whiskey sits like a concrete block in the pit of my stomach.
Whatever she was going to say is snuffed out as Alex wraps a possessive armaround her and she deflates. “Hey,” she forces out. “I was just grabbing a drink.”
“Loosening those inhibitions. I’m here for it.” Alex nuzzles her neck, nibbling the soft skin.
