With my petite figure, my voluptuous backside was that much more pronounced, but I’d learned to embrace it over the years.
My shoulder-length blonde hair still had the pink tips, and I created some messy waves. I swept black eyeliner on to accentuate my green eyes and a pink gloss to complete the look. I snapped a picture and sent a text to Piper.
Approve?
I was headed out the door when she responded.
Smokin!
I grinned, making a mental note to call my best friend. Though we texted daily, we were overdue for a longer catch up.
Motto’s was already busy as I walked in, scanning for Caden. I found him and Danika at the bar, grinning like lovesick fools at each other.
“Hi guys.” I grinned, accepting a hug from Danika. With long black hair and blue eyes, she was a striking woman.
Caden had played the field for years, taking full advantage of his good looks and status as a musician and tattoo artist. The combination seemed to make women turn to mush. My thoughts turned to Sid with a wince; the military-musician combination had seemed even more powerful while it lasted. Not that his appeal had diminished since the band had broken up.
Caden had been selective, and in my opinion, he’d picked the best woman to settle down with. Danika was smart and funny and she held her own. Plus, I’d never seen my friend so happy, which was the most important thing in my book.
We ordered drinks and found a booth near the pool tables. Over a few rounds of drinks, we caught up. When Caden’s eyes flashed at something over my shoulder, I turned my head, curious what had caught his attention.
Sid.
Dressed in a formfitting black T-shirt that highlighted the colorful tattoos spanning both of his muscular arms, complete with black Levi’s, he was drool worthy. His blue eyes met mine and he offered what looked like a sheepish smile.
I spun back, glaring at Caden. “Did you know he was coming?” I demanded.
Caden offered a cajoling smile. “I may have had an idea,” he admitted. “Sam, you can’t avoid him forever. He’s one of your best friends.”
He also broke my fucking heart.
“Hi guys,” Sid’s deep voice greeted as he stood next to where I sat. I craned my neck up, feeling caged in.
Before I could make my escape, he slid into the booth next to me and his muscular thigh pressed against mine underneath the table. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your party.” He smiled, flashing the dimple that had pushed me over the edge back when I was fighting my crush on him. Before I simply gave up the useless fight.
His intensity threw me off kilter. He’d looked at me the same way the night before. It wasn’t the friendly shooting-the-shit look I’d grown used to over the years. No, this was something else entirely. There was something nearly predatory about it.
“When did you get back?” I asked, feeling my heart hammer in my chest at our proximity.
“About a week ago,” he replied.
I was absently aware of Caden and Danika getting up and starting a game of pool. Whether their exit was planned or coincidental, I wasn’t sure; nor did I have the mindset to care at the moment.
“How are you, Sam?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over my face.
My eyes fell to the glass I held clutched in my hands. “I’m good. I’ve been writing a lot. An artist asked me to write a few songs, Autumn Powers. I’m sure you remember her,” I shared. I didn’t know why I’d shared that with him, aside from the fact that he was one of the few people who would know just how meaningful that news actually was.
His brows lifted, a smile spreading across his handsome face. “That’s fucking great, Sam.”
“Thanks,” I replied stiffly as I caught a drop of moisture sliding down my glass. “That was a beautiful wedding. Your date seemed… nice,” I managed, trying to make conversation.
He made a growly noise. “She wasn’t my date. My buddy’s wife tried to set us up at the wedding.”
That made me feel marginally better, though it didn’t change anything.
“So, where are you living?” he asked, reaching for Caden’s glass and filling it from the pitcher of beer the three of us had been sharing.
“On Melrose,” I answered vaguely.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Which side?”
“On the it’s-none-of-your-business side,” I snapped, feeling the anger that’d been simmering beneath all the hurt start to boil to the surface.
He stared at me for a moment, as though gauging how to respond.
“It’s getting late. I should go.” I pushed my glass out of the way and gave him a pointed look that he should get up and let me out.
“Not yet.” He shook his head.