Because I was desperate.
With every breath, my chest drew to his. We faced each other on the stools and our legs mingled and bumped, sporadically at first, then my foot was on his chair and our thighs met denim to denim in between us.
“So that’s what my first extraction was like,” he admitted at the end of his story about the first time he’d pulled someone’s tooth. He took a drink from his bottle and, like I was learning he did often after a swig, did this sexy pucker with his lips, reminding me of a kiss.
Fucking beer bottles have all the fun.
“I don’t think I could do it. I’d be too afraid I was going to hurt someone.”
“You get used to that part. You start to trust the medicine—most of the time. After you see how numb someone would have to be, getting their teeth ripped out and still looking at you like are you going to start yet, but not feeling a thing, you begin to worry less.”
I needed to change the topic. With beer bottles getting to touch him and talking about mouths, I was finding it hard to focus on what he was saying. Only that his lips were moving.
As close as we were sitting, I could smell him and see how long his eyelashes were. On his chiseled, clean-shaven face, with all the power in his jaw, the lashes added something of a gentleness to his otherwise very masculine features.
“One more?” he asked, but he already held his hand up, showing two fingers to Sally down the bar.
One more? How was time going that fast? Looking at my phone I saw that it was already eleven thirty.
Suddenly a rush of apprehension warned me—it could all end before it got good. I needed a minute to get my shit together.
“I’ll be right back.” I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I needed to have a moment. It was hard to think when he was that close.
I wasn’t some flaky girl. I was a woman. And I wanted him. I could wait for him all night, all month—if I had to. But I didn’t want to. I wasn’t that patient.
In the one-person bathroom, I looked in the mirror and gave myself a little pep talk.
You look good tonight.
You’re both having fun.
He likes you. Stop wasting time.
Go out there and just tell him your damn name.
I washed my hands and cockily ripped the paper towel from the dispenser.
“That’s right,” I cheered myself on, giving myself one last quick look in the mirror.
I could have used more lip gloss, but—being optimistic—I thought he probably wouldn’t want that all over him in a few minutes.
When I walked out of the ladies’ room, I heard before I saw Randy and Seth, town buffoons, trying to get Sally to sell them a few beers. But since bar time was always fast, it was already last call and I must have missed it in the bathroom.
“I already called it, boys. Besides, Les called from down the street and said he had to ask you two to leave. Can’t you guys just go out and not cause trouble?” She teased, since what she said was true, because they were generally okay guys, but assholes when they were drunk. They never picked on me much, but when they did I always wanted to knock their skulls together.
They claimed it was harmless. They were always just joking. But on more than one occasion, I’d seen people snap after too much. And when they had bellies full of too much beer, too much could happen.
“Sally, his beer’s full. We’ll take our last call, too,” Randy hollered down the bar from Vaughn. “Hey, you’re that dentist,” he added as Sally caved and handed over a pair of bottles.
“Nice to meet you.” Vaughn lifted his beer in introduction.
Seth slapped Randy playfully in the arm as I walked up to them.
“I don’t know why you’d ever want to move here. I heard your wife dumped ya because you were moving here. Smart girl.”
“Real nice, Seth,” I said as I sat on the stool. Vaughn half coughed, half laughed. I gave him a sideways glance and he looked like he was just going to let it roll off of him.
“Oh my God,” Randy shouted. “Is that Mutt? You’ve been to the groomers!” He laughed, as did Seth, and, all of a sudden, I didn’t really feel like that last beer. They were harmless, but they were also pricks and it had been a really great night.
I rolled my eyes and turned to Vaughn.
His face was serious and his eyes were raging, a ticking in his jaw told me he hadn’t appreciated the slam.
“Let’s go,” I said quietly, hoping they’d stop after I didn’t come back with anything. Vaughn’s eyes met mine and I tried to convey that it didn’t bother me, and that I was okay. He looked deep into me, and with that one look, made me feel more protected than I’d ever felt in my life.
Over my shoulder I heard Seth say, “Hell, I’d even walk her around town if she wore those jeans.”