Sara
“WHAT WAS THE weirdest thing you made as a bartender?” Lisa’s eyes lit up before she threw back another shot.
I shook my head at her widened and glassy eyes. “I was a bartender for two days. I filled beer mugs and shot glasses. No fun concoctions, sorry!” I took a long pull of my own beer bottle and eyed my roommate. We both had a long and grueling week of kitchen lab testing, and I was willing to splurge and get some drinks to celebrate. Lisa was already on drink three and shot number four. I didn’t mind helping her out of here, but carrying her, as she had a good six inches of height on me, would be a bitch. The bar was close to the dorm but not that close.
“That’s so cool!” She shrieked as she stumbled onto the stool beside me. That helping/carrying window was approaching faster than I’d anticipated. “You know so many different techniques and recipes. I wish I had that kind of experience.” She sighed before downing the rest of her beer. “I wish I worked in New York City like you.”
I sucked in a deep breath and turned away from Lisa. Her comments came from an innocent place. Classmates would sometimes guffaw in class if I knew an odd ingredient or dish from the countless restaurants I’d waitressed at. And there were many: Italian, Turkish, Mexican, Indian. I didn’t discriminate and thankfully neither did they when I applied for a job. I was always too busy bussing tables to really observe what went on in the kitchens, but I’d catch things from time to time and even experiment at home with a dish when I had an extra couple of bucks. My quest to keep us fed and sheltered made me a Renaissance woman to my friends. It was funny and sad at the same time.
I motioned to the bartender for two glasses of water and spotted Drew strolling in with a few of his friends. He stopped short when he caught my gaze, his brows shooting up in mock surprise.
“What’s going on with you and Drew?” Lisa slurred before I shoved the glass of water in her face.
“We’re friends. Nothing beyond that.”
She snickered around the rim of the glass. “Riiight. You guys are adorable.”
“Keep drinking, Lisa.” I nudged the glass of water back into her hand.
“What are we talking about?” Emma squeezed herself between us and motioned for a drink.
“How cute Drew and Sara are.” She batted her eyelashes and folded her hands under her chin.
“I know . . . the little glances of longing when they don’t think the other is looking.” She let out a squee and I groaned into my hands.
“There are no glances of longing. Don’t encourage her, Emma.”
“Um . . .” She leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “I see one right now. He looks your way every chance he gets.” She grabbed her bottle of beer and turned to Lisa. “How hot would they be together? With Sara peaking and all.”
“Peaking?” My brow crinkled as my fingers massaged the sudden ache in my temples from these two. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, you’re in your thirties, right?” She offered a sheepish smile. “I read an article about how that’s when you like, hit your sexual peak. And Drew with all those fuckable inches of lean muscle and the dark bedroom eyes? Holy shit, you guys would combust from all the heat.”
“For sure,” Lisa agreed, her eyes less cloudy but still fixed on me. “Don’t you want to peak with Drew, then come back and tell us all about it in Every. Single. Detail?”
I shot up from my stool, clutching the edge of the bar and shaking my head. “You guys are insane. I’m not peaking with Drew or anyone else.” I huffed before dropping a ten on the counter.
“Tell Drew we said hi,” Emma mocked as I stalked to the back of the bar with shaky breaths. If I were honest, I thought of “peaking” with Drew quite a bit. A few times when Lisa wasn’t in the room I considered a private game of pretend, but I wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t. Bad enough the fight to keep things on a friendly level grew harder each day. Sliding my hand between my legs and using thoughts of Drew to . . . as tempting as it was, it would only make things that much worse. My limbs weren’t the only parts of my body that ached after our weekly runs together.
“Something wrong?” The velvety timbre I knew all too well made me stop. I turned and couldn't help my smile when my eyes met those deep chocolate ones. He really did have bedroom eyes, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t test that theory.
“No, just escaping my drunken roommate for a few minutes and thought I’d say hi. What?” Drew bit his lip to hold in a snicker.
“Out in public again. Look at you!”
I nudged his stomach as it rumbled with a laugh. Despite my best efforts to scowl, my mouth quirked into a smile.
"Ah, that's what I'm talking about," he whispered as he cupped my chin, causing a shiver to run through me.
"What is?" I breathed, forgetting to throw him my usual attitude.
“A real smile. From you, those are pretty damn rare.” The sexy curl of his lip made me stumble.
Drew was an adorable contradiction. He was a sweet and funny nerd, his favorite pastime teasing me. He also dripped sex, and my traitorous body wanted nothing more than to lick it up. Sexual peak like Emma said or just the product of a decade long sexual drought? Maybe both? I had no clue what it was like to actually like someone anymore. I didn't have time to, so I never let myself consider it. The more time we spent together, the more I considered. The more I liked. The more I wanted. This wasn't good on so many levels.
"I smile. I'm not a robot or an ice queen. Maybe I just don't giggle like the girls you're used to." This time, I pulled off the scowl perfectly until he pulled me flush to his body.
"I know you're neither of those things. But you're so tense, your smiles are always tight and forced. A real smile?” I stilled as his thumb grazed my bottom lip. “Only I get those. All mine."
My knees liquified as my heart galloped in my chest. He was right. They were all his.
“Want to dance?” He whispered in my ear so close his lips grazed my lobe. It was as if I was being tested every day and getting dangerously closer and closer to failing. Why did he have to be so sexy and nice and stupid? Couldn’t he see he was wasting his time?
“Dance?” I huffed out a laugh. “I’m not the dancing type.” We were surrounded by the bumping and grinding of some students I knew from around campus. My own bumping and grinding days stopped a long time ago—nine years to be exact.
“I bet you would be if I found the right song.” He tapped his chin. “Stay here.”
He rushed over to the jukebox. My mind went to the bar I’d met Josh in that night and the jukebox older than me that still played actual records. I didn’t dance in that bar either even though I’d been younger than Drew was at the time. Irritation flowed through my veins. I never really got to be a kid, did I? Carefree was never in my vocabulary. Maybe that’s why I never danced.
My mouth fell open at the first notes of “Sara” by Starship. I shook my head as he sauntered back over.
“I don’t think you can really dance to this—” My words halted as his arm snaked around my waist and brought me closer . . . and closer. My heart thundered in my ears as I froze.
“Yes, you can,” he whispered. “Sway with me. Not that hard, Caldwell.”
I looped my arms around his neck and moved with him. I saw his friends gawking at us in my peripheral but wouldn’t look. Being in his arms felt too good to care what was bad about it—for now.
“I didn’t think you knew this song. A little before your time, no?” I raised an eyebrow.
“It suits you.” The husky rasp of his voice made butterflies somersault in my belly, never mind flutter. Despite all that heat I was trying so hard to deny, I was about to go up in flames right next to the pool tables.
“Suits me?” I cocked my head to the side. “Because the song is named ‘Sara?’ That’s deep, Kostas.”
I laughed until the back of his hand feathered down my cheek, grazing the corner of my mouth. I didn’t feel thirty-two in that moment. It was as if I were a teenager, with all these foreign feelings ricocheting all over my body, feelings I had no clue what to do with. Well, maybe I did know, but I was too scared. Too terrified to let myself give in to this, to need someone. The lyrics spoke about storms brewing in Sara’s eyes. It was more like a hurricane—wild and untamed with the potential for total devastation.
“Fire and ice. You show ice to everyone else, but I see fire. I see . . . I see so much.” He swallowed as he searched my face. “I wish you did, too.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted as our eyes locked. The urge to kiss him was so strong my lips tingled. What was so wrong with giving in?
Everything.
His hand splayed on my lower back, bringing us even closer together. A hint of a smile floated across his lips before he whispered in my ear.
“Don’t be. I’ve got you. Or I will.” He pressed a soft, wet kiss behind my ear. Every little hair on the back of my neck stood straight up as goose bumps flared across the spot where his mouth had been. “Once you let me.”