Page 71 of Forgotten Dreams
“I don’t approve at all,” I say between clenched teeth as she walks past me and to the door. “I’m rethinking this night out,” I say as she walks out the door, and I follow her. The door slams shut behind me and automatically locks. “Let’s stay in. We can cook, and then I don’t know. Read a book.” She stops and turns on her heel, laughing as she reaches for the truck handle.
“You want to read a romance book with me.”
“If that will get you to stay home”—I put my hands on my hips—“then yes, yes, I do.”
“Okay, tomorrow you can read one of the dirty parts, and we can reenact it.” She taps the tip of my nose before she climbs into the cab of the truck and slams the door closed.
I put my hands on my hips and look up at the sky. “Give me strength,” I mumble to the universe as I walk around and get into the truck. “Are you sure about this?” I ask her one last time, hoping she will change her mind. But she just smiles big at me and nods her head. “Great,” I say, making my way over to the bar. I park in the almost full parking lot, knowing that every single second we are inside this bar, I will be glaring and threatening anyone who looks at her.
She hops down off the seat and meets me at the back of the truck, slipping her hand into mine. “This is going to be so much fun.”
We walk into the jam-packed bar, looking around to see if we see anyone we know. “Oh, Brock and Everleigh are here,” Sierra says, dragging me through people and toward their table. “Hey, guys,” she says, seeing two empty chairs, “are these taken?”
“Yes,” Brock snaps.
While Everleigh says, “No,” with a huge smile on her face. Then, she holds out her hands to the two empty chairs. “Please sit.”
“Or not.” Brock leans in. “You can go and have a drink at the bar.”
“Brock,” Everleigh hisses his name, “that’s not nice.”
“It’s date night, and I’m socializing.” He looks at her and then turns to glare at us. “And now you’ve invited people to sit with us where I will have even less of your attention.”
She puts a hand on his cheek. “I promise you will have me the whole night to yourself.”
He grunts, and only then do I pull out the chair for Sierra to sit down before I sit next to her. “If it makes you feel better”—I look at Brock—“I don’t want to be here either.”
“It doesn’t.” He picks up his drink and brings it to his lips.
“Okay, can we get this romantic thing going”—I look around—“so we can hurry up and leave?”
“Romantic thing?” Everleigh asks us, making Brock groan.
“If they wanted us to know, they would explain it to us.” He leans back in his chair. “Mind your business, woman.”
“It’s called socializing, Brock,” she hisses at him. “Now explain this romantic thing.”
“Caleb says he’s more romantic than I am, so I am spending all night romancing him.” She puts one of her shoulders up and shakes side to side.
“You know how you can do that.” Brock looks at her. “Stay home and get naked.”
I point at him as Everleigh gasps, “That. I would like to be romanticized like that.”
The waitress comes over, and we order a round while the music starts to get a touch louder, and people start getting up beside their table to dance.
“They should just make a dance floor,” Sierra says as the waiter puts her drink down in front of her. “It would be fun to watch everyone dance.”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Brock quickly crushes her dreams. “I remember when no one wanted to come into this bar. It was fantastic.”
“It was not,” Everleigh says. “They almost went bankrupt.”
“Okay, minus that.” We all laugh as we talk about how it was the last couple of years. We order burgers, while Brock and Everleigh order a couple of small plates to share.
By the time I look around, more people have arrived, and a couple have even come over to say hello to us. Everleigh and Sierra are going on and on about this show they are both watching, and I’m about to just push away from the table and drag her out of there. Her hand has been on my leg the whole night, rubbing it softly up and down.
The music goes soft, and she cuddles up to me, her mouth going to my ear. “Will you dance with me?” she asks me, and I don’t answer her; instead, I push away from the table, holding out my hand for her.
She slides her hand in mine as we move to the side of the table, and she wraps her arm around my neck. “Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her even closer to me.
