“Tequila, soda, with a lime,” she responds.
The bartender walks over to us, and I order Violet’s drink and a whiskey for myself.
As the bartender hands us our drinks, I take a sip.
She moves in closer, looking up at me through her lashes. “You know, I’ve never tried whiskey. Can I have a sip?”
“You look at me like that, and you can have anything you want, darlin’,” I say, handing her my glass.
As she parts her lips, she’s still looking at me, and as I watch the smooth amber liquid drop into her mouth. It makes me want to grab her and kiss her right here, taste that whiskey on her lips.
But I don’t, I control myself. I’ll just add that to the list of things I want to do with her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No reason, so tell me, what are your thoughts on the drink?”
“I wouldn’t order it, but I’d steal a few sips next time.”
Next time. So, she wants there to be a next time.
The DJ just said it was last call, the music shifts to another song, and the room grows loud again, a swarm of people heading toward the bar before it closes.
Violet leans closer so I can hear her when she says, “So you survived my sisters.”
“Barely,” I scoff.
She smiles. “Most people don’t.”
I lift my drink toward her. “Guess I’ll have to stick around to prove I can handle them.”
Her eyes look into mine for a second longer than necessary. “I guess you will.”
With the bar closing, we scrape our chairs against the floor as jackets and purses are grabbed. Outside, the night air is cool, the kind that makes you feel awake.
Everyone says their goodbyes, hugging and making plans to do this again soon. It was a fun night, a glimpse into the life I can have here now that I am back.
I turn to Violet. “Well, thanks for the invite to join you guys, it was fun.”
“Thanks for joining us, it was,” she says, smiling up at me, glowing with the bar lights behind her. “Goodnight, Everett.”
“Goodnight, Violet.”
I watch her go, making sure they get to the car safely, already looking forward to the next time I’ll see her.
10
Violet
“Coffee is liquid love in a cup.”
Last night was a lot of fun. Everett and my sisters got along, and his brother Henry was so fun as well. Right now, the smell of vanilla and brown butter fills the kitchen as I slide another tray of cookies into the oven.
Normally, baking settles my mind. Measuring, mixing, timing, it’s predictable. Safe.
Tonight, my brain refuses to cooperate. Because every time I close my eyes, I see Everett.
The bar was loud, crowded, full of laughter and music, but somehow, whenever I looked at him, I felt like the rest of the room faded away. Like we were standing in our own quiet pocket of space.
