Fallon didn’t say a single word as I opened the door, but I could feel the way her body tensed. She even snuggled a bit closer to me, and the feeling it set through my body was one that was completely foreign to me. My chest grew tight, my body felt warm. Something strange came over me, and it almost made me want to put the brakes on.
As soon as we were inside the bar, Fallon whispered, “Oh my God, I stick out like a sore thumb.”
I rumbled out a laugh as I looked from her to the rest of the patrons. Fallon was right; she did stick out but definitely not in a bad way. Oak Hill was a hick town. We wore tattered jeans and plain t-shirts. Some people even wore cowboy boots, while others wore ripped ballcaps. Fallon wasn’t the only one who looked out of place, though. Hell, Axe had more tattoos on his one arm than everyone in the entire building had combined. It wasn’t a bad thing to be different—definitely not with the way she wore it. I just had to prove that to her.
“I don’t know about this. I almost wish you were a murderer so you could put me out of my misery. Next time, I’m totally keeping ripped jeans and a flannel in my car.” Fallon’s tone rose with every syllable that came out of her mouth.
“For what? When you randomly go to a small-town bar with the guy who gives you a piercing?”
She snickered. “Yes.”
I looked down at her, my hand still on her waist. “So do you do this often? Go out with hot piercing guys to small-town bars?”
Fallon raised an eyebrow. “Who says you’re hot?”
I grinned. “Your body language.”
Fallon’s sapphire eyes widened, and the light freckles on her cheeks were quickly overtaken by a bright red color.
I laughed. “Relax, Fallon. Just have fun.”
Her eyes didn’t decrease in size, so I pulled her in a little closer. Her small frame fit up against mine perfectly. My eyes flickered to the bar bathroom, but I shut down that idea quickly. Fallon wasn’t the type of girl I should take in a bar bathroom. I mean, I would have loved nothing more than to have had her naked right then, but hookups in bar bathrooms were meant to be quick and rushed, usually accompanied by too much booze. I could never be quick with her.
At least not intentionally.
“Look,” I said, angling my head to the left. “See that girl over there, waving frantically?” Fallon followed my gaze and nodded. “That’s Ivy. That’s my brother’s girlfriend. She’s really nice, and not too long ago, she was kind of in the same position you are in right now.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, smiling at Ivy.
“She came back to town after being away for a really long time, and she felt so out of place you could literally feel it coming off her body.” I laughed, remembering the night that Ivy had come to the bar with Kip and me. She looked as if she wanted to cry when she’d seen my brother across the bar. She tried to leave, but I made her stay. It was kind of my thing: pushing people past their comfort zones. Just like I was doing to Fallon.
“Let’s go, and just remember… tonight’s all about having some fun. You want to be someone you’re not, right? Just do that.” I winked and then pulled Fallon by the hand.
Ivy’s smile overtook her face, her emerald eyes twinkling when she looked from me to Fallon. I could tell exactly what she was thinking. She had that yay-you-have-a-new-girlfriend face on. Ivy constantly tried setting me up with her friends. First, there was the one from the bank that laughed like a hyena. Then, there was Ivy’s old neighbor’s granddaughter, Cynthia. Cynthia was hot as hell, but no one knew that said granddaughter had a secret boyfriend with whom she spent the entire date texting. I couldn’t blame Ivy for trying to help, though. She was only trying to soothe the burn that Carrie had left behind after we’d split, but I was fine.
I was perfectly content with the hey-we’re-drunk-let’s-hook-up-and-never-see-each-other-again spiel. I’d been doing it for months now.
“Hi!” Ivy exclaimed, walking right up to Fallon. “I’m Ivy!”
I peered down at Fallon, letting go of her hand. “Hi, Ivy. I’m Fallon, Emmett’s… friend?” Fallon could barely get the last word out, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What else would you be?” I looked down at her reddening face and put on my best grin. Her face got even redder.
“Well, I don’t know. We just met!”
Ivy’s eyebrows shot upward, thinking all the wrong things.
Dawson chuckled, his jaw slacking. “Jeez. You just met and you’re already bringing her around your friends?”
I shot him a death glare. Dawson grinned at me connivingly, and I knew right then that he was paying me back for all the times I’d joked about his and Ivy’s newfound relationship in the beginning.
“Let’s get these ladies some drinks,” I interrupted, ignoring the awkwardness that was seconds away from forming around the four of us.
“Ivy already has hers—Jesus, Ivy!” Dawson shouted, looking over at her empty drink. “I just bought that for you!”
Ivy looked down at her drink, her dark hair falling forward. She brought her eyes back up to Dawson, laughing. “Oops, seems your little Rouge likes her rum and cokes.” Then she shrugged.
“Little Rouge?” I pulled my head back and arched a brow. “What did you do, Ivy?”